I couldn’t get the rude woman out of my head, so I bring it up. “There was a woman in here earlier that I hadn’t met. She’s about my height, chestnut-brown hair. More put together than the other girls.”
“I’m guessing you met Vera?”
“That’s her. She wasn’t happy about me cooking. I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. Did I do something wrong?”
She deflates a little. “Sorry, I should have warned you. Most of the sweet butts are manageable, but Vera and Grace are horrible.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Her frown deepens, and an unsettling feeling stirs in my stomach. She looks away from me and lets out a heavy sigh. “Nasty women that say nasty things. It’s like they never matured past high school.”
I monitor her closely. “Are they mean to you?”
Her body stills, and she remains silent.
After I flip over the pancakes, I put my hand on her back. “Is that a yes?”
She turns with a tight smile. “There’s a pecking order. I’m an ol’ lady, so I am at the top of that. They should respect me. Vera is next because she manages everything in this clubhouse, not that she does a good job of it, may I add. The other sweet butts come after that.”
Her voice doesn’t sound convincing, and I hate that she’s lying, but I keep my mouth shut because I haven’t been open and honest with her, either.
“Have I met Grace yet?”
“She’s the one that was talking to Bomber last night.”
I turn the stovetop off, rest the final pancake on the plate, and put the dirty pouring cup in the sink. Grasping the plate, I step forward and lower my voice. “What was that about when he grabbed her like that?”
She shrugs. “He doesn’t like the sweet butts touching him—or really any woman. The other men have no issues having sex with them, but he’s different.”
With a tight nod, I follow her through the house to the dining area. The room erupts in cheers and whistles as I bring out the rest of the pancakes, and my cheeks heat as I place it on the small table. A thrill courses through me at their gratitude, and their appreciation hits me right in the chest, making me smile. Reaper smiles too.
I grab a plate and put a couple of pancakes on it with some cut-up strawberries and a little cream. Everyone is sitting around a humongous wooden table. Elena has a spare seat next to her, though the man with all the tattoos is sitting on the other side of it. My feet remain glued to the ground as I stare at Demon, but when Elena makes eye contact with me and waves me over, I have no choice but to go take a seat.
When I reach them, Axle smiles at me. “So good,” he says through a mouthful of food.
“I’m glad you like it,” I say as I place my plate on the table. When I take a seat, I shuffle my chair closer to Elena.
“Like it? I love it! Elena can’t cook for shit.”
I try not to laugh, but I fail miserably. Elena swats him with her hand. “Hey, I try.”
“Yes, babe,” he says, smiling lovingly at her.
They are the cutest, and I’m so happy for them.
As I eat my pancakes, I feel Demon’s eyes on me. I wipe the corners of my mouth, hoping I don’t have food all over my face. I peek up under my lashes, and I was right—he is staring. I find it strange. He wasn’t checking me out and it wasn’t a hostile glare, but I’m not sure what it was and I don’t want to be rude, so I turn my body toward him. “Hi, I’m Ava.”
A wicked smile slides over his lips, and he stares at me without responding. My breathing hitches. I shuffle in my seat, suddenly feeling the heat on my cheeks again. His eyes study me, both intense and curious. “So I heard...” He tilts his head. “I’d introduce myself but...” He lifts his hand to my face but doesn’t touch me. “I’ll take a guess from your hesitation to sit next to me. You already know who I am.”
Swallowing hard, I give him a sharp nod. I’ve met no one like him before.
He relaxes further into his chair with his crooked smile and pops a strawberry into his mouth, looking at the others around the table.
Elena clears her throat, and when I lift my gaze, she mouthssorry.
I focus on finishing my food, but I’m a little confused about my interaction with Demon. At least he didn’t ask me about my husband or what I’m going through. In the short period I’ve been here, I’ve noticed that they don’t pretend to be anyone other than who they are, and even if what they do or say is shocking, it’s refreshing because Beau was fake and a different person with me than what he was with others.
“How long are you staying?”
