He’d replaced the locks on her back door, too. No double-key locks anywhere. When he’d done it, he’d wanted to keep a set of keys. But they’d only known each other those two weeks, and Willa hadn’t been able to say yes to that, despite all he’d done for her. No matter how close she felt to him, how connected, how safe he made her feel, two weeks was not enough time to be sure. So she’d told him no, and she’d told him why.
He hadn’t seemed hurt. And he hadn’t asked again.
She’d not yet offered, either. But now, after six weeks together, she felt a pang seeing him sitting on the concrete step. He stayed near the street when he had to wait for her because Ollie got excited when Rad went up on the porch, and he didn’t understand why his buddy wasn’t coming in to play.
Rad had become her dog’s second-favorite person. Sometimes, it seemed like she was slipping into second place herself.
After the day she’d just finished, it would have been nice to have been able to go into her house and find Ollie and Rad hanging out together, waiting for her.
She waved and rode past, around the corner, pulling her bike up onto her driveway beside her truck. By the time she was parked and had her helmet off, Rad was halfway around the house.
She went to meet him, and he pulled her into his arms. The warm strength of his body was a panacea, and she sagged into him, letting him take the weight of the day from her.
From the house, a series of sharp barks broke into the moment, and Rad chuckled and let her go. Ollie stood at a dining room window, front paws on the sill, nose smearing the glass. When he saw he had their attention, he barked again.
“He needs to pee. It’s been almost twelve hours. He’s probably ready to burst.”
“I’ll take him for a walk, let him stretch his legs out, too.” Rad took her hand, and they walked to the front of the house.
She didn’t want to be alone again. “Let’s all go together.”
“You don’t want to put your feet up?”
“I want to be with you.”
After a probing look in her eyes, what Willa knew to be his way of checking to make sure she was okay, he gave her a nod and a smile.
~oOo~
They walked hand in hand around the neighborhood, slowly, as Ollie stopped to sniff and pee at every lamppost, mailbox, signpost, hydrant, and clump of grass. They didn’t talk much, except to the dog. Willa had too many feelings and thoughts colliding in her head to hold a conversation. She needed some quiet, and Rad seemed to understand that she did.
Ollie dropped a big load on the grassy sward between the street and the sidewalk, and while he sniffed his craftsmanship proudly, Rad opened the plastic bag they’d brought along for the purpose and crouched to pick up the pile.
Willa smiled at the sight of Rad picking up after her dog, pushing him gently out of the way, talking to him in an affectionate, teasing tone. Before she’d considered the pros and cons of asking the question that had risen to the top of her churning thoughts, the words were in the air.
“Do you want kids, Rad?”
Still crouching on the grass, in the act of tying the bag closed, Rad stopped and looked up at her.
“That’s a helluva question to ask right now, while I’m holdin’ a sack full of shit.” Then he laughed and shook his head. “Or maybe it’s the perfect time.”
“Sorry. I don’t know why I asked.”
He stood and faced her. “Don’t you?”
Unsure whether he was asking if she really didn’t know why she’d asked, or if she didn’t want kids, she picked one and said, “I guess I asked because…it feels like something we should agree on. Like we’re at the point that that matters.”
Once she said it, she realized that it was the exactly right answer. That was why she’d asked. It was right for another reason, too—she had obviously pleased Rad. He grinned widely.
“Are we, now?”
“Don’t be a butthead.” He hated to be called asshole, so she’d landed on butthead when he got annoying. It had practically become an endearment. “You know we are.”
He walked to the trashcan a few yards back and dropped the sack in. “Don’t you drop another load, buddy. Not till we’re home. We’re out of bags.” Coming back, he took her hand and got them walking again. Ollie trotted happily out in front, rump wiggling.
“I don’t got a yes or no answer,” he began as they turned the corner and started toward home. “Never wanted to be a father. Dahlia got pregnant once, but it wasn’t what either of us wanted, so she had an abortion—and that was what we both wanted. I figured that was the end of the question for me. If I didn’t want a kid I’d already made, then I didn’t want a kid, period. I never thought much about it again. Now, lookin’ back, I can’t even say that kid was mine.”
He’d told Willa a little about his marriage, and his ex-wife sounded like a piece of work.
A couple coming toward them, walking a little ragamuffin of a dog—something that looked like a mop, saw Rad and Willa and Ollie and froze in their tracks. The woman picked up her pet dust bunny, and the man pushed them behind him.
Ollie was a big dog—a hundred-twenty pounds of pure pit bull muscle—and he was trained to protect. In the absence of a threat, however, he was a goofy, slobbering love sponge. The couple was right to pick up their little dog, though. In Willa’s experience, little dogs got snarly and aggressive when they were frightened, and then Ollie might see threat and act before Willa could hold him.
He had noticed the little dog and was showing that he was ready to guard.
She stopped and moved Ollie to the grass. “Ollie, sit.” She waved her hand downward once. He sat. “Hold.” She moved her hand like she was pushing something down. He went still. She used ‘stay’ when she wanted him to stay while she walked away and ‘hold’ when she wanted him to stay at her side.
Rad stepped out so that he was between her and Ollie and the others, and for a moment, two men stared at each other. One was average height and slight build, wearing Reeboks with his pressed jeans and collarless button-down shirt, with wire-rimmed glasses on his face, and the other was Rad—tall, broad, bearded, inked, and wearing a Bulls kutte and heavy engineer boots.
As showdowns went, it was a bit lopsided.
“Go on, now,” Rad said. “Ollie here won’t move till we say. You’re safe.”
The guy put his arm around his woman and their dog and moved past, keeping as much distance from Rad and Ollie as they could get without walking into traffic.
“Assholes,” Rad muttered as he took her hand and they resumed their own walk. “What was I sayin’—right. Kids. I’d say I don’t want kids, but after Oklahoma City, I wondered if maybe we pushed our luck too much. Thought didn’t bother me like it should’ve.”
“We didn’t talk about that at all. I wasn’t sure you’d noticed.”
“I didn’t notice I was free range inside you? Shit, Wills. I fuckin’ noticed. I noticed so much I couldn’t stop.” He shrugged. “But there was nothin’ to talk about unless it was a real thing. And it wasn’t. Anyway, I guess my answer is I could go either way. Got no need to be a dad. Had a shit one myself. But I’m not freaked out about it like I used to be. Not with you.” He squeezed her hand. “What about you?”
“I have no idea. Jesse’s loomed in the back of my life so long I’ve barely thought about what I want. And the world is such a shitty place. I don’t know how people bring babies into it knowing all the terrible things that could happen to them.” Ollie had stopped for a sniff, so she turned and slid her arm around Rad’s waist. “But while I was waiting for my period, I felt like I almost wanted it, too. With you. I don’t know.”
He bent down and kissed her, sliding his tongue along her lips, then pushing gently into her mouth. With his beard still brushing her skin, he said, “Sounds like we’re on the same page, then. Let’s just roll on, do what feels right, and see what comes.”
It seemed a good answer. One that gave Willa some peace of mind.
<
br /> ~oOo~
When they were back at home, Rad didn’t push for the clubhouse party. Instead, he suggested they order in and watch television until they were ready to fuck each other unconscious. That sounded like a perfect Friday night to her.
While he called for pizza, Willa went back to her bedroom and washed her face and hands, then changed into shorts and a camisole. Dressed and feeling fresher and calm, she opened her grandmother’s rosewood jewelry box. Her mother had shipped it to her after the funeral. She lifted the top tray and picked up a set of keys from the velvet floor of the bottom compartment.
In the living room, Rad had just turned on the television and was standing before it, scrolling through the guide. He’d taken off his kutte, boots, and socks, which was about as comfortable as he ever got until he was naked. She went and stood beside him.
He saw her and smiled, plucking at a strap of her camisole. “I love these little shirts and how you don’t wear a bra with ‘em.” He drew a finger down her chest and flicked at her nipple until it beaded up under the cotton.
“Rad,” she gasped and flinched away before he could distract her.
She held up the keys and waited for him to get it. When he did, he cocked an eyebrow at her, and she swallowed to loosen her throat for the next words she wanted to say: “I love you.”
He stared for a long time, his expression unreadable except for the hot shine of his brown eyes. Willa stood there, holding the keys he hadn’t taken, not knowing what to think.
Then he tossed the remote at the sofa and grabbed her. As his mouth slammed over hers, he lifted her up and charged to the wall, crashing them both into it so hard that Willa lost all her breath and the keys clattered to the floor.
Ollie, lying by the fireplace, was quiet. He’d gotten used to their antics by now and knew not to worry.
Willa tore her mouth free and sucked in a breath. She thought she understood his feeling in this wild passion, but it wasn’t enough. “Say it. Please say it.”
“I love you,” he growled. “Fuck yeah, I love you.” He bit down on her neck and took them both to the floor.
They were still going at it when the pizza arrived. Rad didn’t even bother to get dressed before he answered the door—just shoved some cash at the shocked kid and yanked the box from him before he slammed the door shut so hard the light over the dining room table shook.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rad leaned back against the bar in the clubhouse and nursed a beer. Most of his brothers and their guests were drinking with enthusiasm, but he was keeping a level head. The Volkovs hadn’t arrived yet, and he wasn’t entirely confident that the meet would go smoothly. Neither was Delaney; he’d noticed his president eyeing the front door and nursing his whiskey.
The Night Horde was in the house, the whole club, and the Russians were on their way. The Bulls had called in all the sweetbutts, regulars and occasionals, as well as a few of Maddie’s ‘models,’ to keep the men entertained. Slick and Wally, the prospects, and a couple of the more established hangarounds, kept the booze flowing.
With the exception of Ox’s Maddie, who was keeping an eye on her girls and managing the sweetbutts and the food, there were no other old ladies on the premises. This party wasn’t really a party, it was a sit-down called by the Volkovs, regarding bringing the Horde in on a gun route, and the situation could get dicey. So Delaney and Dane—and Rad; he had an old lady now, too—had decided to keep their women well away. Though Willa had met all of the club by now, she still hadn’t been to a Bulls party, and this was definitely not the one to start at.
On the surface, it looked like any club party. The clubs were friendly, and not every member of the Horde had a stick the size of a tree up his ass like their president did. There was plenty of food, drink, and women to go around. Most of the men had taken up with the girls, and there was a lively game of pool going on as well. Everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves except the presidents and vice presidents of each club. And Rad. Even Frank, the Horde SAA, had set aside his protection duties. He was lounging back in a club chair, balls-deep in the mouth of one of the occasional girls and grinning like a fool.
Though the atmosphere in the clubhouse was lighthearted overall, Rad kept alert anyway. Big Ike was his usual dour self—worse than usual. It was Big Ike who could make trouble, if there were trouble to be made.
What happened at the Horde table was no business of Rad’s, but he had to wonder if there wasn’t some kind of strife in that club, something that went deeper than the trouble between the king and the prince—though Rad looked at the still-pink scar cutting Little Ike’s face in half and wondered again how that had happened.
Trying to put the dots together from his third-party view, he conjectured that this deal to bring the Horde into the Russian guns was a vote that had not gone Big Ike’s way.
He’d been the one to talk with Delaney, he’d been the Horde’s face of the deal, but that was his job as president, regardless of whether he’d wanted it himself. However, Big Ike Lunden didn’t take defeat gracefully.
This arrangement had smelled bad since they’d made it. The Russians were leery about bringing the little club they had no relationship with into the mix, and Delaney had stood up for them, putting the Bulls on the line. That was enough to get Kirill Volkov to concede to a trial period, but he wanted to sit down with this new club first.
So this sit-down. In Tulsa. If Kirill was satisfied, the Horde would then ride into Indiana to escort their first shipment back to Tulsa. It was a big fire drill, a lot of miles ridden without compensation, but Kirill wanted to meet on familiar ground.
Knowing Kirill, he was also testing the Horde, seeing if they would run around in circles for his job.
The Horde was here, so they seemed to have passed that test. But Big Ike was no idiot. He knew damn well it was a test, and he was pissed off. Rad could tell, simply from the demeanor of the men sitting on the sofas across the room—Delaney, Dane, Big Ike, and Reg—that the Horde president was complaining about it.
“That beer has got to be warm by now. Here—take a cold one. And what’s your head chewing on so hard?” Gunner held a frosty bottle before Rad’s face. He hadn’t realized Gunner had finished with his sweetbutt.
He took the cold beer and pushed the half-finished, room-temperature bottle to the back of the bar. Then he took a pull from the freshie, savoring the cool sliding down his throat.
“Just stayin’ alert. There’s a lot of movin’ parts to this meet.”
He gave Gunner a once over. He’d healed completely from the beatdown at Terry’s almost two months ago, but he had some new scars. They could not afford for Gunner to get it in his head that he wanted new scars today. “Do me a favor and keep level tonight, Gun.”
“You’re expecting trouble.” Gunner nodded toward the sofas. “Because of the Horde prez, right?”
“I always expect trouble. But yeah, Kirill won’t tolerate disrespect, and Big Ike’s walked right up to the line with D the last couple of times, so who knows what he’ll do with the Russians. I need everybody clear and solid, just in case.”
Gunner put his own bottle to his mouth and swallowed deeply. “I don’t know why D’s bending so far back for these guys. It’s like Big Ike has some kinda dirt on him.”
Rad shook his head. “Nah. D wouldn’t bend for that. He’d just put a bullet between Big Ike’s eyes and be done with it. It’s something between them. A debt, maybe. Or just a bond.” Uncomfortable with making guesses about Delaney’s relationship with Big Ike, he shook his head. “Don’t matter. We voted it. Now we got to make sure it don’t go to shit.”
~oOo~
Kirill and his men arrived about an hour later, and Delaney made the introductions. Rad was relieved to see that Big Ike was cordial, as was Kirill. When Kirill met Little Ike and made a comment about the son seeming a fine, strong man to follow his father, Big Ike frowned but said nothing.
With a glance around the room, which was showing obviou
s signs that people had been enjoying themselves, Kirill said, “I wish business now, first. You are able?”
Delaney nodded. “We are. Let’s go back to the chapel.” He turned and caught Maddie’s eye. “Maddie, bring us the good vodka and glasses for everybody, hon.”
“You got it, D,” Maddie said and went over to the bar to do so.
Crash (The Brazen Bulls MC Book 1) Page 19