I pushed up on my elbow and raised my brow. “So you’ll come home, to Amber, this weekend, and come to a party? At the club. As Luke, my boyfriend, not Luke, the sheriff?”
He pulled me into his arms. “I was never Luke, the sheriff. I was always Luke, Rosie’s man. Even before I knew it. Definitely before you knew it.”
I swallowed. “Is that your alpha and dramatic way of saying you’ll come?” I still wasn’t used to it, those hearts and flowers declarations. They didn’t feel real. They couldn’t feel real. Then again, all the shit, the horrible shit we’d been through up until now, was real, so why couldn’t some of the good stuff be real too?
He chuckled and kissed my nose. “Yeah, babe.”
I sank into his embrace for a moment and his lips found the top of my head. He inhaled, and I leaned back. “Did you just sniff my head?”
He smiled. “Sure did.”
“That’s weird, dude.”
He continued to smile. “I’ve had twenty years of wondering what every inch of you smelled like, tasted like. Had to restrain myself from finding out because I didn’t think you could be mine, not biblically at least. Now that you are mine, finally, there’s nothing to stop me from doing any of that. So I will, as often as possible,” he murmured.
Fuck. There it was. More hearts and flowers. It was almost as hard to deal with as the shit that came before. For different reasons.
“You do realize that someone will almost certainly brandish at least one weapon at you, on principle,” I said, skipping acknowledgement of his words once more.
He didn’t seem to worry about me not fulfilling my feminine duty to whisper sweet nothings back to him. “Bring it on, babe.”
All my excuses and warnings used up, I sank back into his embrace, defeated. Or victorious. I wasn’t sure which.
Chapter Eighteen
Despite all my bravado in the fight that led to Luke and me being in a car a few minutes out of Amber, I was nervous.
Among other things.
The car was heading directly for my home. Not my house, but the Sons of Templar compound. My house didn’t feel like my house anymore. It surely wasn’t my home.
I’d brought it with the proceeds of some of my extracurricular activities. To solve any of the questions I would’ve gotten from buying said house with money that no one—apart from Wire—knew I had, I took the offer for the loan of a down payment from Steg. And from Cade. And then paid them back with each other’s money.
I wagered they’d never find out because men didn’t talk about that kind of stuff at the best of times, and at that point, Cade and Steg were very far from the best of times.
It was now mortgage free and had a tenant by the name of Gage living there.
Which stopped it from being my house, because I didn’t even want to entertain what twisted shit he’d gotten up to. He’d put me to shame.
But we weren’t going there.
It was weird, taking your boyfriend home to meet the family. Much weirder when your family was a motorcycle gang who would shoot anyone they decided wasn’t good enough. It was off the reservation when your boyfriend had not only met but arrested at some point or another almost everyone in that entire family. Had spent a previous life trying to take them down.
But this wasn’t that life anymore.
He wasn’t coming to raid the compound, look for evidence.
He was coming as my boyfriend.
My heart was thundering so hard I wondered if it might jump right out of my throat. I had never been this scared on a single mission in Venezuela.
That might’ve been because of the visit—the unexpected one—I’d had from Cade a few days prior. I thought it was a good idea to call ahead and tell him Luke was coming so I didn’t spring it on him and my brother didn’t shoot him on reflex.
After I’d told them, there was silence on the other side of the line. “Hello? You didn’t die, did you?”
“I’ll be there in two hours,” he growled, then hung up.
I didn’t think my older brother would actually drive that far just to yell at me.
I should’ve known better.
He and Gwen turned up a little over two hours later. I reasoned the delay was because he didn’t want Gwen coming. But she was there. Because he was a marshmallow.
Not right then, though.
“Him?” he roared. “Really, Rosie?” He began to pace the room. “I know you like to push the boundaries, consider yourself a rebel amongst rebels, but this is fucking….” He ran his hands through his hair.
“Love,” Gwen interjected quietly, eyes on me and then her husband. “This is love, Cade.”
I’d adored my sister-in-law since the moment I met her, but right then, I could’ve kissed her feet. For her gentle gaze and strong vote of support. For going up against Cade. For me.