She’s already pulling a few arrangements forward.
"Let me," I say, taking the weight out of her hands.
The clubhouse is a converted factory building tucked into the edge of town. Brick walls. High windows. The Damned Saints’ emblem painted across the steel doors.
She hesitates before going in.
"They’ll love you," I say quietly, reaching for her hand again. "Just be yourself."
"What if they’re..."
"They’re rough. But they’re family."
That seems to settle something in her. She squeezes my fingers and steps forward.
Inside, Havoc’s the first to notice us. He’s lounging on the worn leather couch near the bar, boots up, phone in hand.
"Well, well, well," he drawls, eyes flicking from me to Nya and back again. "Look who finally grew a pair."
Viper snorts from where he’s leaning against the pool table. "About time. Thought you took a vow of celibacy, Ghost."
I roll my eyes and mutter, "Don’t talk like that in front of her."
"Oh, come on," Havoc says. "You’ve got that face. She’s gotta know."
"I do," Nya says sweetly, stepping closer to me. "And I like it."
I glance at her, surprised. She’s got a sparkle in her eyes like she’s enjoying watching them fluster me.
Sheis.
Hell.
"Girl’s got bite," Viper says with approval. "You’re welcome here anytime."
"I brought flowers," she says, nodding toward the arrangements I’m still holding.
Havoc whistles. "Damn. You really outdid yourself."
"We asked for centerpieces, not a full-blown magazine spread," Viper adds with a smirk, eyeing the flowers like they might bite.
"Don’t complain now," Havoc says, elbowing him. "You're the one who said we needed to make a good impression this year."
"Yeah, but I didn’t expect it to smell like a damn botanical garden," Viper mutters, then grins. "Looks great, though. Real classy."
Nya laughs, and the sound bounces off the brick and wood like the first warm breeze after a long winter. She fits here. She doesn’t even know it, but she fits.
A prospect steps into the room from the back hallway and freezes when he sees her.
"Wait... You’re the one who makes the stuffed animals for the kids," he says, eyes wide. "My niece got one last Christmas. Wouldn’t let it go for weeks."
Nya blinks. "She did?"
"Yeah. That penguin thing with the crooked scarf? That was you?"
She nods, clearly a little overwhelmed.
"You’re like a legend to those kids," he says, grinning. "Thank you. Seriously."
