In a crowded mall. On a Saturday afternoon, less than a month before Christmas.
“Hangman didn’t say,” Storm grumbles. “Stay sharp. We already stick out like a nudist at church.”
Several of my club brothers smirk, but no one laughs. We’re too alert, too busy watching for trouble to become distracted. This wasn’t the place to have a sit-down with another club. It put us all on edge.
My gaze bounces around the food court, the long lines, and the mostly full tables. Almost all are couples with kids or teens in groups. I see all the kids, messy faces, booster seats, and highchairs, and wonder how the fuck these people do it. How do they work a nine-to-five job and pay all their bills, provide for their kids, and remain happy? It looks fucking miserable.
Don’t get me wrong. I like kids. Sort of.
I just don’t want any of my own.
And then I spot the woman standing in line at Chick-fil-A. She’s fucking gorgeous, wearing a red holiday sweater withSanta on the front and jeans that mold every curve of her lower body from her thick thighs to her plump ass to the flair of her generous hips. Just the type I want in my bed.
I like my women with soft skin, cushion for the pushin’, and who don’t wear a ton of makeup, long fake nails, cause drama, or carry a ton of baggage. Somehow, I know just by looking at this one that she’s sweet and intelligent. I can tell by the way she’s holding the hand of the little girl with her and keeping her close, aware of her surroundings, like it’s instinct.
I can’t stop staring at her as I half-listen to Storm, Bear, and Smoke talk. I’m still keeping an eye out for anything that doesn’t feel right, but I’m able to split my attention without difficulty. And this is no hardship. As the woman walks closer, totally unaware that I’m watching her, I notice that all the tables are full. She’s got no place to sit.
Stepping away from my club, I shove the prospect sitting at the table closest to me so I can offer it to the woman and little girl. “Here. This table is open.”
She notices me then. Her head tilts back as she takes in my height and size, my leather cut, and all the ink on my skin. She blinks and then thanks me as I help her get settled. When she says she needs a booster seat, I grab it for her.
As we talk, I learn the little girl is her niece, Ainsley. And my new obsession? Her name is Noelle.
Goddamn,she’s beautiful. Even more so, up close, with her clear complexion and big green eyes, framed by long dark lashes. And those lips.Fuck me.They’re the perfect bow shape, full, and glossy pink. I can’t help imagining how they’d feel wrapped around my cock. It takes every ounce of control I’ve got not to pull her up and kiss her, right there. My dick swells and presses against the zipper of my jeans. If she looks down, she’ll know what she does to me.
I hope she does.
I’m mildly disappointed to learn she’s a good girl and never thinks to glance at my crotch. That’s okay. I can corrupt her once she’s between my sheets and underneath me.
I focus on our conversation and ask her to go out for coffee. It’s an easy first date.
“She doesn’t like coffee,” Ainsley announces. “Just cocoa and cookies.”
Noelle’s lips twitch with humor. “I’m more of a tea and hot cocoa girl.”
“Then we’ll get whatever you want.” I mean that. She calls the shots. I’m a guy who likes to spoil his woman in and out of the bedroom. I open my mouth to say something else, but I hear Storm call my name. “Gotta go, darlin’. I’ll be seein’ you soon.” I wink at Ainsley. “Don’t forget to tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”
She lifts her hand and waves bye. “Mommy says he already knows.”
I chuckle and reluctantly turn away, rejoining Storm, Bear, and Smoke. The prospect is close by, casually watching the entire dining area for any hint of trouble. He’s a good one. We’ll probably keep him around and patch him in if he doesn’t fuck up. He’s got another six months before we’ll consider it.
Every man pays his dues. You prospect before you patch. That’s the way of it.
“He’s not coming,” Bear rumbles. “Something ain’t right.”
“Agreed,” Smoke adds as he rolls his shoulders, clearly agitated that we’ve wasted our time.
I don’t know. It’s hard to say.
Storm ticks his chin my way. “What do you think, Torque?”
I’m here with his two best men because Storm trusts me. I’ve declined to become an officer more than once, or I’d probably be the V.P. like Bear by now. It’s not my calling.
Still, my opinion matters, and that means a lot to me. I grew up with Storm. We’re both in our mid-thirties. Along with Bear, we’re the oldest members in the club.
“It’s suspicious, but something could have held up Hangman. He’s been true to his word since Murder.”
Storm considers my words. “I agree. No need to jump to conclusions.” Bear starts to protest, and Storm holds up his hand. “I know, Bear. We ain’t ignoring shit. Just not gettin’ trigger happy about it.”
