“This is something a man would like, right?” I ask as we put the bags in the truck and get back in the car. “I mean, if someone planned a little picnic for you and put in some effort to show you that they appreciate you, you’d enjoy it?”
“Are you kidding me? He’s going to love it,” he assures me. “And it’s the perfect day for it. The sun’s out, and he’s probably going to be stressed as fuck from trying to do damage control from last night.”
“I’m sure you can tell I’m a little out of my element.” I groan.
I have no experience with men. And the first man I actually like had to be complicated as fuck, in a motorcycle club, and come with a whole lot of baggage.
“You’ll be fine. He seriously likes you, Abbie. Everyone does. And you know what, that’s important, because if you and he get together you’re going to be someone that people look up to. Being the president’s old lady isn’t a role for everyone.”
“Okay, I wasn’t thinking that far ahead, but thanks for adding that on,” I mumble, my mind pushing back that comment for another day’s problem.
Crow just shrugs. He meant it, this is actually a thing, and if anything progresses with me and Temper, it’s something I’m going to have to think about. However, with me having to go home at the quickest opportunity, I think that this is where everything is going to end. That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy the time with him that I have, because I’m going to make the most of every second.
We grab some bagels for breakfast and then head back to the clubhouse. I tidy the place up, wanting to do something productive with my time, while Crow works out in their gym. When it gets close to lunchtime, I create a platter and set up a little picnic blanket outside, making it as cute as possible, pillows ready for us to sit on. With a bottle of wine in a tub of ice, I work with what I have, and am pretty happy with how it turned out.
“It looks good enough to be on a social media post,” Crow says, walking out shirtless from his workout, a light sheen of sweat glistening in the sunlight.
“Thanks,” I say, shrugging, suddenly feeling a little unsure of myself. Temper is the president of an MC—is something like this going to be stupid and trivial to him? Maybe he’s busy and won’t even be able to return when he said he would, and then Crow is going to have to eat this platter with me so I don’t look like a dickhead.
“Hey,” Temper says from behind us, and we both spin around.
“Hey,” I reply, watching Crow make a quick exit.
“What’s all this?” Temper asks, smiling as he takes in the little setup. “Is this for me?”
I nod, shifting on my feet, feeling awkward as hell. “Yeah, I thought I’d do something...nice...” I trail off, apparently unable to speak coherently. Clearing my throat, I sit down and pat the spot next to me. “Would you like some wine?”
“I’d love some,” he says, sitting down and eyeing the selection in front of him. “This looks amazing, Abbie. You’re so fuckin’ cute, you know that?”
I breathe a sigh of relief, and pour us both some wine. “I just thought you might want to chill out and relax a little after...everything.”
“I could say the same for you,” he says quietly, taking the glass from my hand, our fingers touching. “This must be a lot for you, and you’ve been handling it so well. We’re used to shit like this going down; you’re not.”
“Yeah, true, but it’s up to you to fix it all, not me, which means the pressure is all on you.”
“True,” he agrees, lifting his glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” I cut some brie and place it on a cracker. “How did this morning go?”
“Saint is viewing the surveillance as we speak and then destroying it so we can’t get into any shit,” he explains, brown eyes watching me as I eat. “But then we need to try to identify these guys. We’re going to have to pull in some favors, which I hate doing, but it’s kind of necessary. Anyway, let’s just enjoy this moment and not think about what’s to come.”
“Sounds good. Thank you for the flowers and the note you left this morning,” I say, smiling at him. “They were beautiful.”
“If you want to see beautiful, you should have seen how you look when you’re asleep,” he blurts out, gaze going to the wineglass. “I struggled to leave you this morning. You know, I’m not usually a cuddler, I prefer to have my space in bed, but I liked having you next to me. It’s peaceful. Somehow you drown out all the stress and worry.”
I can’t wipe the smile off my face. “I don’t even know what to say to that. I like that I’m different for you.”
“You have no idea.” He smiles. “I spoke to my brother yesterday, and he’s in shock. I think he thought I’d be a bachelor for the rest of my life.”
“Are you two close?” I ask.
He nods. “Yep, he’s all the blood family I have. Trade and those kids of his, I’d do anything for them. What about you? Are you close with your family? I know that you’re close with Ivy.”
“I am.” I grin, thinking about her. “I’m close with my mom too, but we have a more complicated relationship. With her it’s almost like the roles have reversed, and she needs me to look after her, which makes it pretty stressful. She’s made me feel really guilty being away from home, making it sound like she can’t cope without me, and that her anxiety is in full throttle.”
“Oh, that sucks. I’m sorry that I put you in this position, but that’s not very fair,” he says, frowning. “A child should never have to sacrifice for a parent. You should be living your life how you want to. Life is short, you know? And your mom is an adult. I’m sure she can learn to be self-sufficient without you.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
We nibble at the food, drink wine in the sunshine and just enjoy each other, pretending that we’re a normal couple on a date, and it’s wonderful.
If only things were this easy. If only he were a local guy I met, a banker or something, and we could have this every day.
But he’s not, and I knew that coming into this, so I can’t place all the blame on him.
And when Saint comes into the garden and tells Temper he needs to speak to him, I know that we’re back to reality.
“You go. I’ll tidy up,” I tell him, feeling a little giddy from either the wine or the company.
“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning forward and giving me a quick yet gentle kiss. “No one has ever done something like this for me before, so thank you. It’s not something I’m going to forget.”
Another kiss, this time on my forehead, and then he follows Saint back inside. Wishing there was more wine, I pack everything up and head back inside. The men are nowhere to be found, so I lie back down on my bed and send a message to Izzy.
Abbie: What are you and Skylar up to today?
She responds by adding Skylar to a group chat, and then typing:
Izzy: Skylar is at work, but I’m at home. Do you want me to come over? I should take my dog for a walk anyway.
Abbie: Yes, please. Something is going down and the men are in a meeting.
Izzy: Be there in twenty.
* * *
I’m sitting on the couch watching a movie when Skylar comes in, her gorgeous staffy mix by her side. “This is Shadow,” she says, patting his head.
“Hello, cutie,” I say to him, and laugh when he jumps on the couch and starts licking my face. “He’s adorable.”
“He is.” She sits down next to me. “They still haven’t come out?”
“Nope. I don’t know what’s going on,” I admit, pausing the movie and giving Izzy my full attention. “I ran over two men last night.”
She waves her hand in the air. “They were fine. They got back up.”
“Still,” I reply, pursing my lips. “Would you have done the same if you were in my situation?”
“Hell yes I would have,” sh
e says instantly, brow furrowing. “You did what any of us would have done, Abbie. You’re not a bad person. It wasn’t you with a gun, making threats. We were just trying to get us all out of there safely. So don’t you feel guilty, not even for one second.”
I nod. It’s good to hear those words from her. “Okay, you’re right. I did what I had to.”
“You did,” she assures me. “Who knows what would have happened if you didn’t do that? It was four against three and they all had guns. It’s a miracle we all got out of there unscathed.”
“I’ve never even seen a gun in real life before all of this,” I admit, blinking slowly. “Now I feel like I should probably know how to use one.”
“You should. Ask Temper, he’s a pro.”
“I bet he is.” I groan, scrubbing my palm down my face. I’m updating her on the little picnic I did for him when he walks into the room.
“We found out who the men are,” he says to us both, just as Saint steps into the room. “Mercenaries. They are former soldiers. The best you can get around our parts. Someone has hired them, and paid them very well, to follow us, get information and kill me, or kill some of us, or basically just fuck shit up with the MC.”
“Who would want to do that?” I ask, glancing between the two men. “Just how long is your list of enemies?”
No one answers me.
Great.
“All the men are coming in now and we’re going to discuss it and come up with a plan,” Temper says, patting Shadow when he comes up to him. “We’re going to need all of you to stay safe—don’t go anywhere alone, and keep tabs on each other, all right? We’re back on high alert until we take care of these men.”
We all nod.
He looks to Saint. “Where’s Skylar?”
Saint puts his phone in his pocket. “I just texted and asked her to come home. She was working, but she’ll be here soon.”
What a mess.
It’s safe to say my problems of being stuck in my hometown seem less complicated than ever. These new problems of life and death are making me realize how much I took my life for granted. At the same time, though, being out and away, and having this freedom also makes me realize how much I’ve been missing, and how I haven’t really been living life. I’ve just been following the rules and existing the way my mother wants me to.
“Want to go for a ride?” Temper asks, offering me his hand.
“Sure,” I reply, taking it.
And then there are moments like this, when it’s just me and him, that are perfect.
And worth it.
Chapter Thirteen
I didn’t really get to speak with Trade on the first night that I met him, because all the members of the MC were there, but tonight it’s just him and his kids having dinner with us, giving a more personal and intimate setting.
His son, AJ, is such a bright kid, and with his dark hair tied up in a man bun just like his dad’s, and his long lashes and cute dimpled smile, he is definitely going to be a heartbreaker.
“This is so yummy, Uncle Tommy,” he says to Temper, beaming. Trade’s kids are the only ones I’ve ever heard calling Temper by his real name, and it’s a little weird to hear, but also super cute.
“Is it? I made it myself,” Temper says to his nephew, grinning.
AJ eyes the chocolate cake. “No you didn’t. I bet you bought it at the store. I’ve never seen you bake a day in your life.”
“He made me a cake once,” Alia adds, licking the chocolate from her fingers. “Well, at least he tried to make me a cake.”
“Hey, that was an artistic creation,” Temper says to his niece, pretending to be offended. “It came straight from a packet and I had to follow the extremely complicated instructions.”
“You just had to add eggs and water and mix it all together,” she says, looking at her dad. “The two of you have the same skills in the kitchen.”
“What do you guys eat every night?” I ask her, trying to hide my smile and failing hard.
“Easy stuff, like meat and salad,” she says, pouting her lips out, and resting her face on her hand. “Or Ariel will cook us something really nice and yummy, like a homemade lasagna or seafood pasta.”
“That does sound yummy.” I know Ariel is Izzy’s sister, and her and Trade seem super cute together.
“Ariel is a really good cook,” India adds. She’s the oldest, and the quietest of the lot, but is such a gorgeous, well-mannered child. Trade has done so well raising these three. I don’t know where their mother is, but no one has mentioned it, and I’m sure as hell not going to ask.
“So, I’ve heard a lot about you, Abbie,” Trade says when he finds me in the kitchen alone. “But nothing directly from you.”
“Well, I was in school, but I’ve put that on hold for now while I help my family with our business. I will definitely finish my degree, because that’s something I’ve always wanted for myself,” I say, rinsing my dish and placing it in the dishwasher. I turn to face him with a tea towel in my hands, wiping them.
“Do you like kids?” he asks, studying me, as if by looking into my eyes he can see if I’m a good person or not.
“I do. Do you?” I fire back.
His lip twitches. “Yes. Do you think you could handle the whole MC thing? I mean, I left the MC for my kids, because as you’ve found out, it’s not always the safest environment.”
“I didn’t know that you weren’t in the MC,” I admit, putting the towel down and pulling out a chair at the table to sit. “I didn’t realize that just walking away was a thing.”
“It’s not,” he agrees, cringing as he also takes a seat. “It’s something that follows you around forever, and once you’re allied with the MC, you always are.”
So does he just tell himself he’s not a member just to make himself feel better about the situation? Or is he hoping that the MC drama won’t always touch him? With his closest family member as the Knights president, I don’t think he can ever walk away unscathed, because anything that happens to Temper, and therefore the club, will always affect him.
“And you didn’t answer my question,” he presses.
“I don’t know,” I reply in all honesty. “I’ve kind of being thrown into this situation, and I have no idea what’s going to happen. I do like Temper. I like being around him. I like how he makes me feel, like I’m invincible, and I want nothing but for him to be happy.”
“But?”
“But I do need to go home. I have responsibilities there, and I want to go back to college and I don’t know how many more kidnappings I’m going to be able to handle.”
Trade surprises me by laughing. “You guys will figure it all out. It always has a way.”
“What always has a way?” I ask, resting my elbows on the table.
“Love.”
My mouth opens and closes. “Ummmm...”
He laughs some more, just as Temper comes in, just in time to save me from this conversation. He’s so good with the kids, and it’s just so nice to watch them all interacting together.
I’m not going to lie, it’s sexy as hell.
Love, though?
I don’t know about that one.
* * *
Staring down at my mom’s name on my phone, I wince and reject the call. I just don’t know what to say to her, and I know she’s going to kill me for not returning home already. I wish I could explain the situation to her properly, but I can’t, and I know she’s worried, but the less she knows, the better. It’s just such a shitty situation, but I wish she would stop treating me like a child, because at the end of the day I’m an adult and I’ve told her that I’m okay and will be returning home when I can.
I never realized how bad our relationship was until I got here. Seeing how she’s behaving—demanding I come home, scolding me for leaving, calling me at least five times a day�
�is making me realize that I’ve been living my life according to her. What she wants, what she needs. She’s never really encouraged me to do anything for me. It’s always been about her.
“You going to answer that?” Temper asks, cuddling up to me. When he asked me if I wanted him to sleep with me again, I said yes. I like being next to him.
“Nope. She’s going to ask for answers I can’t give her right now. I’ll send her a voice message or something so she knows I’m fine,” I explain, rolling over to face him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes out here to find me. I really need to give her a date that I’m returning or something.”
“Tell her in a week,” he says, tucking my hair back behind my ear. “I’ll take you back myself. If shit’s not sorted, I’ll stay with you until it is and make sure that you’re safe, all right?”
“That’s a bit cute,” I whisper, smiling. “Okay, I’ll tell her one week.”
“You’re going to be missed around here when you leave,” he says, brown eyes scanning mine. He leans forward and presses a kiss against my lips. My eyes squeezed shut, I melt into the kiss, moving closer to him, deepening the kiss. His fingers run along my hair, gently bunching a handful in his fist, pulling my head back for easier access to my lips. He’s such a good kisser, I could never tire of his lips.
When he pulls away, I whisper, “Don’t stop.”
And then his lips are back on mine, and then they’re traveling down my jawline, my neck, my collarbone. Sitting up, I remove my pajama top, my breasts free, and then I tug at his tank, wanting him to remove it too. Once it’s off, I press my breasts against his chest, the skin-on-skin contact sending shivers down my spine.
Taking control, Temper pushes me to my back and worships my body, kissing me everywhere, stroking me with his fingers, until he slides his hand under my pants and against my pussy. I’m not wearing any underwear, my skin soft and just shaven, and he continues to stroke the sensitive skin, eventually sliding his finger inside of me, the wetness coating him.
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