“For such a wise soul, never heard you be so fuckin’ stupid. But then that seems to be a pattern for us when we find the right one. Brother, you are what’s best for her. We all saw her when she rolled back into town. And we’ve all seen her recently. Two fuckin’ totally different people.”
Crow tilted his head to stare at Linc. “When d’you last see ‘er?”
“Today. When I went to bring them their order of Bangin’ Burgers.”
“Them who?”
Linc rolled his eyes and crossed his muscular arms over his equally muscular chest. Slade wasn’t the only one who’d been working out a lot recently. “My ol’ lady, Keeks and Jazz.”
Crow’s head snapped up. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
Linc did a slow blink and something crossed his face that Crow didn’t like.
He leaned over the bar toward Linc and growled, “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” again.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“She took Jayde’s old job at Keeks’ law firm.”
Jesus. He assumed she’d left town. “When did that happen?”
“Today.”
“No. When did she take the fuckin’ job?”
“Jayde said she finally called Kiki yesterday to let her know.”
“Keeks offered her a job?”
“A while ago. Jayde said just about everyone offered her a damn job. Everyone wants her to stay in the Valley.” He frowned. “Think you’re the only stupid fuck who wanted Jazz to go.”
He didn’t want her to go.
He stared at his full glass. Instead of picking it up, he pushed it away. She took a job with Kiki. That meant she planned on staying in town.
That was not good.
No, that was fucking bullshit.
That meant she’d be nearby, within reach. Most likely attending club activities and hanging with the DAMC women.
How the fuck was he supposed to resist her when she was so fucking close?
“Assuming she didn’t tell you she moved above the pawn shop, either.”
Fuck no, she didn’t.
It was like everyone in the club was conspiring against him. Ace. Kiki. Linc.
Who knew who else?
Probably even Diamond. Goddamn it.
Crow slowly lifted his gaze from his untouched whiskey and frowned at Linc.
“Not sure why your fuckin’ ass is still on that stool. But I know what the hell you’d say if our positions were switched,” Linc grumbled.
When Crow reached for his glass, Linc was faster, snagging it and putting it below the bar.
“On your sled,” Linc reminded him. “Not doing your woman any good if you dump your bike and crack your noggin open on your way over to get her ass and take her home.”
“Sometimes you just need a fuckin’ pop in the mouth,” Crow muttered.
Linc grinned. “Yeah, and it ain’t gonna be from you. You know what the fuck is right. Known you long enough that you only wanna do what’s right.”
“Leavin’ her be is what’s right.”
Linc shook his head, still wearing that grin that Crow wanted to wipe off his face. “I fuckin’ swear, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you be wrong.” Linc was brave enough to lean over the bar toward him again. He got right in Crow’s face. “Think that woman cares you’re fuckin’ forty? Nobody gives a shit. She certainly doesn’t. You’re just dealing with a fuckin’ number, while I had to deal with Axel, Z and, for fuck’s sake, Mitch of all fuckin’ people. Coulda ended up dead with a bullet between my eyes. The only thing you’re gonna be dealing with is gray hairs on your wrinkled-assed balls. Here’s an easy fuckin’ solution: shave ‘em.”
“Kids,” Crow muttered.
Linc tilted his head. “What about ‘em?”
“She might want ‘em.”
Linc shrugged. “Gray hairs on your nut sac ain’t gonna make you shoot blanks.”
Crow gritted his teeth before saying, “Not sure if I want ‘em.”
Linc snorted. “Right. Every time one of our women becomes knocked up, you’re all over that shit. Touching them, feeling the kid move. Driving all the brothers crazy with that touchy-feely shit.”
That wasn’t a lie.
He pictured Jazz pregnant with his kid. Her belly with that newly finished tattoo he designed special for her rounded with his future.
An invisible band tightened around his chest as he slid off the stool to his feet.
“See? The good thing about her being younger is she can give you a dozen before you croak of old age. So there you go.”
A dozen. Fuck.
He’d be happy with one.
Hell, maybe two. A boy and a girl.
What the fuck was he thinking?
Why the fuck was he still standing there?
Linc glanced at the clock that was hidden under the bar. “Well, look at the fuckin’ time.”
“What time is it?”
“Time for you to get your ass over to her apartment and go claim your woman.”
“Asshole,” Crow grumbled as he spun on his heels and headed back through the bar, listening to Linc laugh his ass off behind him.
Chapter Eighteen
Jazz jerked upright in bed. She heard weird noises again which she suspected was because it was only her second night in her new apartment. She figured it would take a while before she got used to them, especially since she never lived alone before.
She heard another noise, louder this time.
That wasn’t the automatic ice maker or the air conditioning kicking on. Hell no, it wasn’t.
Her heart began to pound as loudly as the pounding on the front door.
With her hand at her throat, she grabbed her cell phone and looked at the time. 11:47. Why would someone be beating on her door at that hour?
With trembling fingers, she clutched the phone to her chest and climbed out of bed, listening carefully.
There it was again. More pounding.
Then a voice.
Male.
Holy shit.
Taking her phone with her, she moved quickly through the small furnished apartment, but hesitated at the front door. Stepping on tiptoes, she looked through the peephole, dropped back to her heels, then spun around and leaned against the door, trying to catch her breath.
Why was he out there?
“Kachina,” he yelled through the door before pounding once more.
Shit. Was he mad she moved out leaving only a note?
She wasn’t going to find out until she opened the damn door. She blew out a shaky breath and turned to slide the chain open, then twist the deadbolt.
Before she was even done, the door burst open, making her quickly step back.
He pushed inside and took his time redoing what she had just undone. When he turned, he glanced around the dark apartment, then his eyes landed on her. “What are you doin’ here?”
“Doing what you wanted me to do. Moving on.” She had to bite her bottom lip so she wouldn’t add “duh” to the end of that.
“No.”
“Yes, Crow. You said we were done when my tattoo was finished. You said that I needed to move on.”
“Not here.”
She frowned. “Are you saying this isn’t far enough away?”
“No.”
No, she wasn’t far enough away? Or no, that wasn’t what he was saying? She went with the second option. “Then what?”
“It’s too far.”
Jazz blinked and stepped back from him. “Unlike the rest of the brothers, you usually know how to use your words. Will you please use them to explain what the fuck you’re talking about?” When he took a step forward, she took another one back.
“It’s not safe for you here.”
He took another step forward and she took a third one back. “What do you mean? The Warriors are done.”
“An’ that might be true, but still not safe.”
What w
as he getting at? Her eyebrows knitted together. Did he know something she didn’t? “Why?”
“Never know who’s out there.”
Her eyes slid to the closed and now locked door, then back to him. Since it was still dark in the apartment, she couldn’t see his eyes clearly, but she felt them on her. “Where will I be safe?” The question came out in a whisper because she knew the answer. She just wanted to hear it come from him.
“In the compound.”
Was he going to resist the truth to the very end? “I can’t afford a place there.”
“Not your own place.”
Holy shit, she was about to pull her hair out. Or his. Which if she did the second one, the DAMC women would probably stone her to death. “Then whose?”
“Mine.”
Her pulse began to race. If he wasn’t going to make this whole thing easy, then neither was she. No fucking way. “You wanted me to move on. I told you I would.”
“You also told me you loved me.”
She smiled. “Yeah?”
She could see his grin, even in the limited light when he said, “Yeah.”
Nope. Not making it easy. “And that changed what?”
“That changed everything, Kachina.”
Instead of stepping back, this time she stepped forward. “Just those three words?”
He stayed in place, planting his feet. “No. Not the words.”
She took another step forward. “Then what?”
“We fit.”
Her smile widened. “Sounds familiar.”
“Was fuckin’ stupid.”
“Yep,” she agreed, trying not to let her smile get too big as she stepped even closer, until her body was pressed to his. She slipped a hand under his cut and fisted his T-shirt.
His long fingers traced her jawline, then he cupped her cheek. “When I said ‘me, too,’ I meant it.”
“I know you did, but that’s not the way to tell me.”
His lips twitched. “It ain’t?”
“No, there are much better ways.”
His mouth twitched again. “You got a list?”
“I can make one if you need it.”
“Pretty sure I can figure it out on my own.”
“Good.”
“No, baby, it’s gonna be a whole helluvalot better than good.”
“So glad you finally see that.”
She squealed when he squatted just enough to scoop her up in his arms. Then she laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he took determined strides down the short hallway to the only bedroom in the apartment.
As he carried her into the room, she reached out and hit the light, then squealed again when he threw her on the bed.
She was still bouncing as he began stripping himself of his boots. When he straightened, he froze. “You steal my shirt?”
She ran a hand over his pilfered T-shirt. “It was only fair.”
“Why?”
“Because you stole my heart.”
It took him about thirty seconds flat to yank off the rest of his clothes, then he was on the bed, naked, stalking toward her on his hands and knees, his golden skin gleaming under the light, his almost-black eyes heated.
“No, baby, you got that backwards.”
“I do?” She laughed as he climbed up her body, until his lips were just above hers.
“Fuck yeah. You stole mine the second I saw you dancin’ an’ singin’ across Hawk’s living room. Shoulda known I was fucked that very second.”
“Just like I’ll be fucked in the next few?”
Suddenly, the air changed, his smile disappeared and his dark eyes became serious. “Love you, Kachina. You’re my fuckin’ heart an’ soul.”
Took him long enough to realize it, but she kept that to herself. Instead she said, “Love you, too, Crow. You’re my everything. Now stop talking and show me how much you love me.”
He did.
And she got to watch it all in that mirror above the bed.
She’d have to recommend them getting one of their own.
Epilogue
“Baby.”
Crow glanced over his shoulder. He had a three o’clock appointment with a new client, but he’d been in the back taking inventory for a while now, so maybe he’d lost track of time.
He placed the clipboard on the shelf. He’d finish inventory later. Turning, he let his eyes travel over Jazz’s hair, which was now completely back to her own natural color and also long enough to sweep over her shoulders. Then his gaze wandered lower.
She had a lot more curves than a year ago. And there was a good reason for it.
Her hand was pressed to her belly and he smiled. “You okay?”
“Yeah, he’s a bit active today.”
He moved across the storeroom floor and when he reached where she was leaning against the door frame, he dropped to one knee, lifted her maternity blouse and pressed his lips to her tattoo which was now stretched across her tight skin.
After laying a line of kisses along her belly, he stood and dropped one more kiss on Jazz’s parted lips.
“You scare me every time you go down on one knee.”
He tilted his head, pretending he didn’t know why. “Why?”
“Because I keep thinking you’re going to pull out a ring.”
Little did she know, he did have a ring. But the last place he was going to give it to her was in his shop. He was also waiting for the perfect time. He just wasn’t sure when that would be. Though, preferably before the birth of their first child who was due in about two months. No matter what, it wasn’t today.
No, today he had a client that not only wanted a big piece done, Crow had no idea what that piece was.
If the guy thought he was going to start it today, he was dead wrong. Crow didn’t rush any of his work. He was meticulous and a perfectionist. That’s why he was one of the best ink slingers in the state.
“You wanna ring?”
She shook her head. “I don’t need one. I have you.” Her hand dropped to her belly again. “And soon, him. Plus, you claimed me as your ol’ lady. If it’s good enough for some of the sisters, it’s good enough for me.”
“You sure?”
When her eyes slid to the side to avoid his, he knew she was lying.
He shrugged. “Okay. Good enough for you. Good enough for me.”
Her lips flattened out and he fought to keep his from tipping upward.
He reached out, curled his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her into him before dropping a kiss on her forehead. “So, are you horny or hungry?”
“Both. But that’s not why I came to find you.”
“Damn,” he whispered.
“There’s a... a guy out front waiting for you.”
“Probably my three o’clock.”
“Yeah, maybe. But...” She pursed her lips, then shot a glance over her shoulder.
He tilted his head again as he stared down into her conflicted expression. “But what?”
“I think he’s a biker.”
“Okay?”
“He’s wearing colors.”
Crow lifted his head and looked over Jazz toward the front of the shop with a frown. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Only that he was looking for you.”
With a nod, Crow released her and pushed past her to head out of the storeroom. When he hit the brightly lit shop, there was no doubt his three o’clock was a biker.
But he was wearing colors Crow never saw before.
Since he was staring out of the front picture window, Crow could clearly read the back of his cut.
The top rocker said: BLOOD FURY
The bottom said: PENNSYLVANIA
The center insignia was of a skull and crossbones, with red blood dripping out of the eye sockets and mouth. To the right of that was “MC” in a smaller square patch.
The man turned when he noticed Crow’s reflection in the glass.
Crow’s eyes dropped to the worn and dis
colored rectangular patch that read “President.” Below that was the patch stating the biker wearing the cut’s name was “Buck.”
The man noticed what Crow was staring at and covered the patch with his hand. “No. Ain’t me. Name’s Trip.”
Was he a wanna-be biker and bought an old cut at a yard sale or some such shit? “Who’s Buck?”
“Was my pop.”
“Why you wearin’ his colors?”
Trip tucked his thumbs into his front jeans’ pockets and just that little movement pushed his cut back enough that Crow noticed a semi-automatic handgun tucked in his waistband. “They’re mine now.”
Crow watched the man cautiously as he asked, “You take him out?”
“No, took himself out. Long time ago, doing somethin’ stupid.”
Crow wanted to check where Jazz was, but he refused to unglue his eyes from the stranger in front of him. “Whataya here for?’
“Want my colors inked on my back. Everyone says you’re the best. ‘Specially at that.”
“Yeah, but it’s gonna take more than one sittin’.”
Trip shrugged his broad shoulders. “Got plenty of time.”
“Where’d the rest of your brothers get theirs done?”
“No others. Just me.” Trip pursed his lips. “For now. Club’s been disbanded for more than a couple decades. Time to resurrect it.”
“Club’s just gotta start with one.”
“True. An’ that one is me. So you willin’ to do a brother a solid?”
“Long as you ain’t comin’ to encroach on our territory, then yeah. But gotta draw up a sketch first.”
“Whatever you draw up, you need to keep on hand. ‘Cause there’s gonna be more of us.”
Crow stared at the man in front of him. He seemed decent enough but never judge a biker by his fucking looks.
They just rid themselves of the Warriors, last thing the DAMC needed was another outlaw club trying to shoulder in on their town. Or their businesses. Or their fucking women.
That decades-long war was over, nobody was ready for another one.
Crow lifted his chin toward a bench he had along one of the walls. “Need your cut so I can start drawin’. Have a seat an’ relax while I get shit to do that.”
Down & Dirty: Crow: Dirty Angels MC, book 10 Page 23