Bound by Steel: Mountain Misfits MC Book 3

by Voss, Deja

‘Be careful. I love you.’ I send him a couple kissy faces and breathe a sigh of relief. If I learned anything this afternoon, it’s that I need to take whatever he tells me as the truth, especially if it concerns how he feels.

  ‘Love you, too. Goodnight.’

  My stomach is growling and reality hits me that the only thing I’ve eaten today is breakfast, coffee, and gin. I know Red said to order everything, but he probably should’ve clarified if he wasn’t being serious, because right now, everything looks like what I want too.

  These prices have me cringing, but screw it, I suppose I can pick up a hundred extra bartending shifts in the next month if I need to. I call in our order and grab my bottle of gin from my suitcase and a couple plastic cups from the nightstand. This would probably be better with ice, but I don’t feel like walking down the hall to go to the machine.

  When Red comes out of the shower wearing only a towel, I admire his body and he eyes me suspiciously.

  “What do you got going on there?” he asks.

  “I figured it was like the movie theater here. I don’t want to pay their prices so I brought my own.”

  “Oh my God, Ollie, we’re not paying for any of this. My gym has us covered. Use the damn mini fridge like a civilized woman.”

  “Now you’re asking for a lot from me,” I giggle, but I can’t deny that I’ve always wanted to drink these twenty-dollar beers I’ve heard so much about. I open the little door and give him the side eye from over my shoulder. “This is all normal shit we have at the bar at home.”

  “Yeah, but it costs ten times as much so it tastes ten times better.”

  “Actually, if it’s free, it tastes a million times better.”

  I grab a couple beers for us and plop down on the bed.

  “The food should be here in a couple minutes.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he says, but I can tell by the way he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, I’m about to lose him here. He’s probably exhausted. He had a longer day than I did. I run my fingers up and down the tattoos on his chest, the scars, and curl up next to him while he snores away. There’s a soft knock on the door, and I make sure he’s covered by the towel he wore out of the shower. We might be a little redneck, but I’m pretty sure we don’t need to be flashing the man who’s bringing us dinner.

  “You want to wake up and eat?” I whisper softly, running my fingers through his hair. He flinches, his eyes snapping open, and his fists clench tight like he’s going to punch me. It startles me to the point that I jump up from the bed.

  “Oh my God, Ollie,” he stutters when he realizes where he is. “I’m so sorry, babe. I swear, I would never hurt you. It’s just an old habit.”

  “Little heads-up might have been nice,” I say, breathing out a long sigh. I know he’d never intentionally hurt me, but I saw what he did with his fists to that man earlier today. I know it’s not his fault. He was homeless long enough that it’s probably still ingrained in him, but it still makes me nervous. “Can I get the door?” I ask.

  I grab some cash from my purse so I can tip this guy as he wheels in two carts loaded with a little bit of everything.

  “I’m not trying to be rude,” the young man says, “but I thought I was going to walk into a party or something on account of all this.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I say. “I’m just a human garbage disposal and he’s a hungry MMA fighter. But here.” I press a wad of cash into his hand. I always make sure to overtip. It’s good karma as a bartender, and I know that sometimes an extra twenty bucks can go a long way.

  “Holy shit,” he says. “You are! You’re Red Fisher! That knockout has been all over the internet. It’s so cool to meet you.”

  “You too, bud,” Red says, laying there, the only thing covering his body the bath towel.

  “Can I get a picture with you?” he asks.

  Red smiles. “What time do you work tomorrow?”

  “I come in at noon.”

  “How about I meet you in the lobby then? I don’t think my ballsack is Instagram worthy.” I cringe and start to laugh. The guy slaps his hand over his mouth as if he just realized what was going on.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” he says. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

  “You didn’t,” I assure him.

  “Thanks. You’re really pretty, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” I stammer. “I thought I liked you, kid, but now it’s time for you to go,” I tease.

  “I didn’t mean it that way!”

  “You’re fine. Thank you so much for feeding us. Have a good night, Mark?” I ask, looking at his name tag.

  “Yeah, Mark. Thanks, guys!”

  I slam the door behind him hard.

  “He thinks I’m old,” I whine.

  “No, he thinks you’re pretty. He knows you’re old.”

  “You’re lucky I’m hungry. You’re not the only person in this room who knows how to throw a punch, you know.”

  “I don’t think I’d hate that. Maybe you can show me after dinner,” he laughs, raising his eyebrows.

  “You’re the worst,” I tell him. I start to take the lids off everything on the carts. There’s steak, shrimp, grilled cheese sandwiches, French fries, spaghetti, and four slices of different kinds of cheesecake. “I don’t even know where to start. If I eat all this, I’m gonna look like I’m six months pregnant.”

  “I think that’d be a good look on you,” he says, tracing his hand over my belly. “I mean, someday.”

  “Yes, someday we can think about that, but right now, all I want to think about is how much of this cake I can fit in my mouth before you notice it’s all gone.”

  We waste no time eating the food, and there’s barely a scrap left by the time he’s done with it. He’s on a strict diet most of the time, and I’m fairly certain I’ve never seen him eat anything deep-fried. I can’t tell what turns him on more: my naked body, or French fries and ranch dressing.

  “What do you want to do now?” I ask, as I tidy up the plates.

  “I think I’m in a food coma,” he groans. “Do you care if we just watch TV and be lazy?”

  “Not at all.” I am really enjoying this quiet time with him. Both of us are used to running around nonstop, and it just feels good to be able to hang out, nowhere to be, no obligations. Still, within moments of turning the TV on, he’s already passed out again, the remote clutched firmly in his hand.

  I really don’t feel like getting coldcocked for trying to watch something other than an infomercial about hair loss reversal, and I’m not really quite ready to go to sleep myself, so I decide to get up and wander around the suite a little bit. That hot tub is calling my name, and I have a joint in my purse to keep me company.

  Between the rough sex, mini fridge, massive feast, and a hot tub to myself, this is shaping up to be the best vacation of my life. It doesn’t hurt that I get to spend it with one of the men I love.

  I can’t help but wonder what the other one is doing right now, though. There is no part of me that wants to get dressed and go out partying, but I wonder if he’s having a good time?

  I strip out of my clothes on the balcony. It’s private enough, and who cares anyway? Nobody knows me here. It’s a fairly cool night, but as soon as I sink into the warm water, I feel perfect. I look up at the sky and I listen to the traffic down below and am thankful I live out in the middle of nowhere, where you can actually see the stars at night, and the only sounds you hear are coyotes howling at the moon. It’s nice to get out of town every once in awhile, but it also reminds me of how great my home is.

  “Hey.” Red’s voice startles me. I look over my shoulder and he’s standing in the doorway of the balcony. “If you stay in that thing much longer you’re gonna end up cooked.”

  “How long you been standing there?” I ask him.

  “Long enough. I like watching you when you don’t know it.”

  “Well, you’re kind of a creep.” I stand up out of the water and he comes over and
wraps me in a towel.

  “Are you going to come inside and lay with me?” he asks. “I promise I won’t swing at you anymore.”

  “I would love to,” I say, letting him dry me off. He pulls the ponytail holder out of my hair and runs his fingers through my blonde curls. “And please don’t be worried about that. It’s not your fault.”

  He pulls back the covers on the bed, and I slide in. These sheets probably cost more than my monthly rent. They’re heavenly. He turns off the light on the nightstand and the room is pitch-black. As he hugs me close to his body, spooning up against me tight, I can feel his heart racing through my back.

  “Are you ok?” I whisper into the darkness.

  “Don’t make fun of me?” he half asks, half begs. “I have been looking forward to this the most. I like what we have going on, Ollie. I like our arrangement and I wouldn’t want it any other way, but seeing you and Tank falling asleep together every night makes me feel a little jealous. It’s like he had something that I’ve always wanted for myself, and I didn’t deserve it.”

  “Well, I’m here now,” I say, squeezing his hand, “and you deserve it just as much as anyone. You’re a good man.”

  “For now,” he says. “I’m trying to be better. I promise.”

  I hate to admit that I get where he’s coming from. This kind of stuff, this commitment and unconditional love and quiet calm, people like us don’t really thrive on it. It’s like claustrophobia to the extreme, combined with the constant fear that we’re going to do something to fuck it all up. So we intentionally fuck it all up. It’s not if, but when. Maybe he will change for me. Hell, these two have already changed me in ways I never thought possible, and it’s only been a matter of a week.

  “I’ll take ‘for now’,” I say. He clutches my body tighter and tighter, as if he’s afraid to let go. Before I can say another word, he’s sound asleep, and I’m wide awake, wondering if maybe he’s been right all along. Maybe Tank really is the glue that’s going to hold all of us together

  15

  When he wakes me up in the morning, he’s fully dressed and has a cup of coffee in hand for me.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I ask.

  “It’s one in the afternoon, sweetie.” He pecks me on the cheek. “I got them to push back checkout by a couple hours, but we have to be out of here by three. Club has church tonight, too.”

  “Damn,” I mutter. “I was kind of looking forward to spending the day in bed with you.”

  “You can spend every day in bed with me from now on if you want. Hell, I’ll have Tank start moving you in right now. By the time we get back, all you’ll have to do is unpack.” I slide out of bed and grab some clothes out of my suitcase.

  “So he wasn’t just out last night?” I ask him as I pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

  “You missed him, didn’t you?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Maybe. What’s it to ya?”

  “He went home after the fight,” he says. “We talked about it the other night and he thought we needed some alone time. He knew you’d feel bad not including him.”

  “So he drove all the way down here to watch you fight for five minutes and drop off his girlfriend for you to enjoy for the evening? He’s pretty much way too good of a guy. We really don’t deserve him.”

  “I think you know exactly how to make it up to him,” he says to me, winking, “and maybe we can still make up for a little lost time, if you know what I mean.”

  The thought sends shivers down my spine. Sure we’ve all three ‘done stuff’ in some sort of formation, but now that all bets are off, I have a feeling I’m in for the wildest sex of my life.

  “So are you going to move in with us or what?” he asks, picking up my suitcase for me as I double-check the room, making sure I have everything I need.

  “Not if you ask like that,” I say.

  “Damn, you really aren’t a morning person.”

  The truth is, while I love spending time at their house, and I’ll gladly spend most days and nights there, I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up all my independence just yet. I’m definitely not ready to have a baby. Fortunately, my BFF is a doctor and can give me a shot once a year so I don’t even have to think about that.

  I adore these guys, I really do, and I want all that stuff. I just want it on a normal timeline. I can wrap my head around the strangeness of a three-way relationship, but cohabitation is taking it to another level that I’m not quite ready for yet.

  It’s crazy how this guy can be a player for all these years, but the second he’s ready to settle down, he’s all in and expects everyone else to feel the same way.

  “Oh shit,” I muse. “Esther and Sloan and I are supposed to do wedding planning stuff tonight at my house.”

  “Well then, let’s get out of here,” he says, grabbing our suitcases and heading for the door. I take one last look around the suite, baffled by how far my life has come in the last ten years, and all it took was being myself.

  16

  Tank:

  “I almost left without you,” I say to Red as he walks through the front door. Church starts in less than twenty minutes, and I don’t want to be late. I realize over the last week I haven’t really been spending as much time with the guys as I normally do, and we need to get caught up on club business.

  “Sorry, dude,” he says, dropping his bags to the floor. “Let me get changed quick. You can go without me if you want.”

  “It’s ok. Awesome fight last night. I’m proud of you, Red.” I am proud to see my best friend in the world finally get what he deserves. I tried to stay off the internet last night to retain some of my sanity in regards to seeing him showing off Olive like some sort of trophy wife, but I couldn’t help myself. He’s about to go places, and I couldn’t be happier for him. “Where’s Olive?” I ask as he comes out of the bedroom in a pair of jeans and his cut.

  “Hen party tonight.” I know he can see the look of disappointment on my face. Going a day without seeing her is kind of killing me. “It’ll be good for us, Tank. A little night out with the boys? I haven’t done that in months.”

  “You’re right,” I say, trying to convince myself more than him. I know he’s right. I also know Olive probably needs some space too.

  We get on our bikes and take the short ride over the hill to the clubhouse. Red grabs us a couple beers from the bar and we walk back to the hallway outside of the war room, where everyone is gathered around.

  “Well look who the fuck it is.” Heat, our club chaplain, whistles when he spots us. “If anyone ever thought they could mess with us, you put that idea to bed with one punch.”

  “Seriously, Red, why didn’t you tell us this was such a big fight? You know we would’ve come down, brother,” Brooks, our president, says.

  “He didn’t tell you about it because he was trying to have a sneaky getaway with Olive,” Gavin says.

  “Guess you all saw the pictures, huh?” he chuckles.

  “I knew there was something up with her lately,” Gavin says. “I’m personally happy for you, but you gotta stop sucking all the blood out of her neck. You’re scaring my customers.”

  “I didn’t do that,” he says, shrugging, raising his eyebrows at me, a cocky smirk on his face.

  “Whatever,” Gavin mutters. “You know if you hurt her, I’ll probably have to kill you. That, or Sloan will.”

  “Who, me?” Red asks.

  “She’s not just some dirty birdie you can throw in the dumpster when you’re done with her. She runs my business for fuck’s sake. She’s irreplaceable.”

  “You just don’t worry about her, Gav,” he says. “I asked her to move in and she said no. If anyone’s gonna break anyone’s heart, it’s going to be her.”

  I had no idea this happened, and I am starting to get pissed that he didn’t talk to me about it first.

  “Well none of us can say you don’t deserve it,” Goob, our secretary, laughs, slapping me on the
back. “You fucking dirt ball…”

  “Can we start this meeting?” I grumble. “The shop is two weeks behind and I got an early morning tomorrow.”

  It’s like a lightbulb went off in everyone’s head as soon as I open my mouth. This casual back-and-forth turns into whispered mumbles and everyone rushing to pay attention to me. It makes me feel like shit.

  Everyone knows how much I care about Olive, and nobody knows the arrangement.

  I’ll let Red have his moment, because everyone is also right.

  He’s going to be the one that fucks this up for himself. And I’ll be there to break the fall. Nice guys might finish last, but they also get whatever they deserve in the end.

  Everyone starts to filter into the room, and Brooks pulls me aside in the hallway.

  “Are you alright, dude?”

  “Yeah,” I say, heading for the door.

  “Tank, come on. I know how much you love that girl. Ever since she came around you haven’t even looked at anyone else. Is this going to be an issue?”

  “The club comes first, Brooks. He’s my best friend. You know as much as I do how he goes through his phases. It doesn’t matter who the girl is, it’ll never get in the way of business.”

  He shakes his head and takes a long pull from his beer.

  “I wasn’t worried about business. I know you guys will take care of business, no matter what. I’m just looking out for you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, “but you don’t have to baby me. I’m not a pussy.”

  “Whatever,” he shrugs, walking through the door. I don’t need babied. I don’t need any special treatment. Once again, I feel like I’m on the outside looking in, poor sensitive Tank and his white picket fence upbringing. I take my seat next to Red at the table and try not to let it show that I absolutely don’t want to be here right now.

  17

  Olive:

  “I brought presents,” Esther says as she walks through my front door. “I figured we could get a head start before bridezilla gets here and shits all over our fun.”