by Eve R. Hart
Most of the women paused long enough to hug me. I ate that shit up, too. But there wasn’t anything weird there since they were all like sisters to me.
“I’m happy for you, Sketch,” Cami said and I woulda sworn she had tears in her eyes when she wrapped her arms around me.
I sighed, but held her tightly for a long moment.
Things would be alright. That was the promise I made to her and Claire right then and there.
I’d make sure they would be.
By the way, it turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.
Or, really, the beginning part to a life that would be more than I could ever wish for.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Melissa
I was headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee when I heard Laurel’s distress call from the lounge area. She was currently trying to manage four kids. Two of them I knew were hers and the other two were Ingram and Mouse’s.
“Can I help?” I asked with a laugh because it seemed that Chry was trying his hardest to drive poor Laurel up the wall.
“Please,” she said with wide eyes. I laughed as I took the kid out of her hands. “Sparrow is full of herself today and Chry must have gotten into some sugar.”
“Should we take them to the park?” I suggested with a hint of humor in my tone.
Laurel was good with the children. Well, most of the ladies were and I’d been around long enough now to see how they all chipped in to help out.
I was still learning the ins and outs of the club and who was who, but I thought I was catching on pretty quickly.
“You don’t have anything to do?” she asked looking like she really wanted to take me up on my offer but was trying to be polite.
“Gosh, no. I’m still trying to figure that all out.”
The look she gave me was a strange one.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I met Reginald, I was working. Not long after we married, I quit my job. I was only a secretary at my husband’s family’s law firm, so it wasn’t that big of a deal that I gave it up.”
No, you know what?! It was a big deal. I might have been young and undecided about what I wanted to do with my life, but I had earned that job all by myself. I kept it because I was good at it. And that was something to be proud of.
“Anyway,” I went on. “I was home taking care of Tripp and the house. I never did go back to work. So here I am, trying to figure it out but I’m starting to think it might be a little late in life for that. Maybe I missed my opportunity.”
I was pretty sure she didn’t work and I hoped she didn’t take offense to what I’d just said.
“It’s never too late,” she told me. “Just find something you love and go with it. Or something that makes you feel complete.”
I liked the way she thought but there wasn’t anything that came to mind. I wasn’t exceptionally good at anything. I didn’t really have any hobbies. Not any that I would want to turn into work. So, what did that leave me with?
“I’m not sure I know what that is,” I said softly as if admitting it was the worst thing ever.
“Claire works because that is her. She has to feel like she’s an equal in everything. I think it’s more like she feels that if she ever lost everything, she’d be able to handle things on her own.” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but I was listening. “But that’s just what I see. Bridget can’t sit still. So she works up at the garage keeping their paperwork straight. They need it, let me tell you. Those boys might be good with cars, but their organizational skills are seriously lacking.”
She rolled her eyes and I let out a little laugh.
“And Gwen has her crusade she’s after. She lost her mom to cancer and remembers how hard it was for her and her dad during that time. She wants to help people in the same situation any way she can. Cami, oh, my wonderful sister. She is an artist. It’s been like her dream to tattoo. Which, I had no clue about it, but she’s so good. Harley has her own shop with her girls and she loves what she does.”
She paused and I let her think for a moment.
I had a feeling she was going to give me the rundown of everyone.
“Chris manages the club bar out front. He has money, so he doesn’t really have to work, but I think he wants to help the club out any way that he can. Plus, he’s not really the sit around type either. And when he’s tending bar, it’s like he’s taking care of everyone. Ingram only works a few hours at this local grocery store. I believe that’s about her and this need to be normal. Most of the time, she’s with the kids. Abigail cooks not because she has to, but because she enjoys making sure everyone in the club is taken care of. Petra… is her own breed and I won’t even go into her.” She shook her head and blinked. I had no idea who she was talking about but I knew I’d find out soon enough. “Ryan has a job at one of the local schools. I know she gets to work with her sister and she loves it.”
“Okay,” I responded with a nod as I tried to take it all in.
“Look,” Laurel said like there was something huge I wasn’t seeing. “Some of us work and some of us don’t. It’s not about giving yourself up to a man. At least it’s not like that for any of us here. There had been a time when I wanted to make it on my own and I had a job. It wasn’t a bad job, but it wasn’t a career or anything like that. The reasons I don’t work are my own. Not the clubs. Not Bryan’s. I’m happy, and that is what is important.”
“I don’t think you’ve helped me figure out my problem at all,” I told her in a teasing tone. She smiled like she understood how I meant it.
“So, basically, what I’m saying is, I might not have a job but I have a purpose. Does that make sense?” She pinned me with a pointed look. “We all chip in around here. We’re all a piece of this bigger picture. It doesn’t matter how your piece fits, it just matters that you’re happy that it’s there.”
“Hmmm,” I hummed, really taking her words in.
They made sense. She was a wise one, that was for sure.
I really liked her.
And she was right, she didn’t have a job but she was very much an important part of everything here. All I saw was how people appreciated her and what she did. I definitely wouldn’t call her weak or at the mercy of some man’s demands. She was right where she wanted to be.
So did I judge her less because she didn’t have a job? Did I think she was exactly like the woman that I had been in my marriage?
No, not at all. And she’d made me see that there was a difference.
I didn’t want to be the woman I use to be.
“I mean, you’re good with kids and I could use the help since there seems to be a new one popping up every week just about.”
We both laughed.
I could see how that would be true.
“I’m always up for it,” I told her feeling something settle inside of me.
I had a place.
I had a purpose.
That was all I’d ever wanted. I think I’d just come to realize that and saw that there wasn’t a single thing wrong with it as long as I was happy.
Yes, I was a nurturer. I loved to care for people. I loved helping out when it was needed. And okay, sometimes when it wasn’t. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
The only thing left was how was I going to make everything else work. I had a good amount of money from the divorce, and I was sure I could live off of that amount if I scaled down. It wouldn’t be hard for me. Reginald had been right when he said I wasn’t motivated by money. So the only thing left was to figure out how I could manage that money well enough to get by for a long time.
“I’m not sure what your financial situation is,” Laurel started, cutting into my thoughts like she’d read them, “and you don’t have to tell me, but I know Sketch will take care of you. You have nothing to worry about, but that’s probably not what you want to hear right now.”
“I’m not sure what I want to hear, honestly. I love him. And I’m sta
rting to love the club. I just want to take care of him. I think the recently divorced woman in me is screaming no.” I let out a short laugh and she smiled softly at me. “But I also can’t feel bad about it. Sketch is different from Reginald. The situations are like night and day.”
“I can only imagine. There’s no one out there quite like Sketch,” she said with a knowing smile. I knew she wasn’t being mean, and she wasn’t wrong there.
“He is… an acquired taste, that is for sure.”
“But you love him.”
“I do. And I don’t want to give him up.”
“Good,” she said with enthusiasm in her tone. “Because I like you and I don’t want to give you up.”
I laughed again.
I couldn’t remember a time in my life where I’d laughed this much. Over the last couple of months, I’d felt so many things. Happiness. Sadness. Love. Fear. I’d laughed and felt alive. I’d felt wanted and needed, but in the best way. I’d found out what it was like to care for someone so deeply that your heart broke along with theirs, even though you may have gone through the emotions years after as they told you their story.
Sketch may have thought that he didn’t deserve me, but sometimes, I wondered if I wasn’t worthy of his love. All I wanted to do was show him the life he never thought he could have. It seemed simple but was I the woman for the job?
Honestly, that shouldn’t have even been a question.
Yes, I was. I would stop at nothing to make sure of it.
“Alright. So you may have a point,” I told her. “If I can’t figure something out, then that’s okay. I’m happy where I am and I’m going to embrace it.”
“That’s right. Own it.”
“I plan to.”
We laughed.
“I really like you,” she said as she walked over and hugged me. “I’m glad you found him.”
“Actually, I think it was him that found me.”
“Oh, yeah? I really need to hear how this whole thing started. I’ve been dying to know.”
“Let’s get these little ones to the park and I’ll tell you all about it,” I told her.
“Oh! It sounds like it’s a really good story. You know they are all going to have to hear this! You might have to repeat it a few times.”
“Maybe we can slip a wine night in and I’ll fill everyone else in,” I said really liking the thought of it.
“I’m so down.”
We got the kids ready to go and a bag of important stuff packed, not forgetting bottles and snacks.
Then we headed to the park.
Yeah, I felt less lost now.
I felt like I was right where I was supposed to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Sketch
“Sketch, got a walk-in. You mind taking it?” Blade called out.
With a smile on my face, I finished wiping down my chair.
“Yeah, give me a minute,” I hollered back.
Nope. I absolutely did not mind taking whatever walk-in was waiting out there. Didn’t give one fuck if it would take me hours or if it was some shit piece that I’d probably done a million times already. I’d take it because life was fuckin’ good!
It had been a busy day. I was a little tired and in serious need of a snack, but I was still going. Still fuckin’ smiling. I just had a few more hours then I’d be heading home to my woman and whatever meal she was cookin’ up for me. I didn’t care what it was because anything she made was outta this world.
I had this thing I was gonna give her tonight.
No, not that! Get your minds outta the gutter.
Okay, fine, I was going to give her that too.
But what I had to give her was just as big.
Ha ha! See what I did there?
In all honesty, it wasn’t that big— the thing, not my thing— but the meaning behind it was. Sort of. Aright, fine, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But I noticed a lot of things about my woman that I didn’t even think she was aware of herself. And when I noticed this one particular thing, I got this idea that popped into my brain every single time. Since it had stayed there a long time now, I figured I might as well listen to that little voice in the back of my head.
Damn. Now I was thinking about Melissa and that was all kinds of distracting.
Thinkin’ about her now had flashbacks of last night playing in my head. I might have had a big-ass smile on my face too. Anyway. We’d spent the night in bed, talking and shit. We did that a lot. Sometimes it was about nothin’ but how our day had gone down. You know, the little shit. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t important. And sometimes, we opened up to one another and got to the meat of it. The more we did it, the easier it had become. And I had to admit, I liked the way she held me when I released some of my shit. Most of the time when I went deep, I couldn’t lay there and talk. I had to have something to focus on. So I’d draw on her perfect skin. She was like a blank canvas for me, ready for whenever I needed it. Fuckin’ loved that shit.
Melissa was my favorite everything.
My favorite woman.
Favorite sketchbook.
Favorite chef.
Favorite pussy.
Yeah, come on, I had to, so don’t give me shit because that is the kind of stuff you expect from me.
I ain’t gonna change.
And that was the thing, she didn’t want me to.
So, really, she was not only my favorite, she was also fuckin’ perfect.
But enough about that, I’m sure y’all get it by now.
I love Melissa, ‘nuff said.
“Send ‘em back,” I called out, ready to do the damn thing.
I heard someone draw near as I reached for one of my random shop sketchbooks.
“What are you lookin’ to get?” I asked without looking up. I was having trouble finding a blank page.
I heard the door close but I kept searching.
“This.” The sweetest fuckin’ voice in the world said and I snapped my gaze up just as she pulled her top over her head.
There my Lis stood, just about near topless, and by the way she was reaching for the hook of her bra, she’d be soon enough.
With a sly smile, she turned her back to me and dropped her bra to the ground.
As much as I wished this was about fuckin’, it wasn’t.
Not with the way she was showing me her back and the lines that marked up part of it. Not with the way she was looking over her shoulder. Not with the way her sexy mouth was curving up into a little smirk.
Nope, this wasn’t about gettin’ naked and boning like rabbits… or making love like… lovers or some shit. Yeah, I liked that just as much as the fast, hard shit.
Anyway.
This was about her wanting my mark on her permanently.
Because she wasn’t playing around and I could tell.
I had no words.
Not a single fucking one.
I didn’t know what to say because this moment had instantly turned real emotional for me.
“Sketch?” The wobble in her tone told me she was starting to doubt coming down here.
“Are you sure?” I asked and hardly recognized my voice.
“Yes, very sure,” she told me, a small smile on her lips. “I want to see it all the time. I want to have a piece of you permanently etched into me.”
“Got me in the damn feels, Lis.”
“I love you,” she said in that tone like she was trying to remind me. Like she had to, come on, I could tell it whenever she looked at me.
Hell, yeah, I was proud of that shit. I got a woman to look at me like my brothers’ partners looked at them. Might have not known that look was what I’d been searching for nearly all my life, but it was. Now that I had it, I felt whole.
“Fuck, baby, I love you too. Get over here.” I reached out and pulled her onto my lap because I couldn’t wait to touch her a second longer. The stool rolled a bit before we bounced into my utility cabinet.
She laughed an
d wrapped her arms around my neck.
Then she kissed the fuck outta me.
“So, will you do it?” she asked sweetly as she pulled away.
I was torn. I wanted to, I sure did. But I kinda loved the way her skin was all untouched. It was like she complimented me perfectly.
Then I made her stand up and turn around. My fingers met her skin and I traced the lines right over her shoulder blade.
Touching that spot was what helped me to make up my mind.
I wondered if she had something like this in mind. The last couple of times I’d done this, she’d handed me a sharpie instead of letting me use my ink pen. She told me it tickled less but I hadn’t been quite so sure that was the reason. I figured it was because she wanted it to stay on her skin longer and let it go.
This one, the one right here on her shoulder, I’d drawn it before. It was something I hadn’t thought about the few times I’d done it, it just sorta kept coming out.
“You were waiting for me to do it again, weren’t you?” I asked with a raised brow as I cut my eyes up to meet hers.
“Maybe,” she said sweetly.
“Okay, I’ll put it on you. But you gotta let me add something.”
“Do I get to know what it is?”
“Nah, just trust me. You’ll love it.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Fuck, I loved the way she sounded so sure.
I stood and told her how I wanted her to sit while I got everything together.
Then I wiped her down and got to work.
She surprised me. Figured she’d be tense and nervous, maybe even squirming around or trying to hold her breath, but she was still and relaxed the whole time.
“You alright?” I asked as I was about halfway done.
“I’m good,” she told me with a reassuring smile.
“You know, I just realized that you didn’t have to take your bra off for me to do this.”
She laughed.
“I know. It took you long enough to say something.”
“I like knowin’ your naked tits have been pressed up against my chair. Gonna think about that every single time I look at it now.”