Beth hadn’t taken a break since she opened the door. Hell, there was a line of people waiting more than thirty minutes before she opened. Even still, with only five minutes left, the bellabove the salon door jingled every few seconds as Saint opened the door to admit potential customers.
An older woman walked toward him, cradling a freshly fluffed terrier in a pastel pink bandana that matched the shop’s pale yet colorful palette. Beth’s touch was everywhere, warm, welcoming, and playful.
“You have a good evening, Mrs. Barnett,” he said as he pulled the door open for the woman who worked at the local library.
“Hmph.” She side-eyed him, shifting her dog to her other arm as though he’d rip it away from her and devour it.
Not everyone loved the fact that the new grooming salon had ties to the MC, but it hadn’t deterred people. If they didn’t want to drive an hour for decent pet grooming, they’d learn to deal.
Saint’s gaze drifted unconsciously to the dog pendant hanging around Beth’s neck. Embedded in the gold lies a tracking device, should the worst happen again. Combined with the absurd amount of cameras Maverick installed and the state-of-the-art security system, he felt confident in Beth’s safety while working.
Demo died three months ago. That chapter closed in the most satisfying way, but the man above him, the one pulling the strings, had vanished. No body. No arrest. No contact. Only silence. They still didn’t know his name. All they had was a fuzzy photo Zach took of a heavily tattooed man with large ear gauges and what looked like a missing finger, slipping out the back on the day they rescued Beth.
Saint wasn’t convinced it was over. More likely, the fucker lay in wait for the day the club got complacent. Then he’d come roaring back into town ready to rumble.
They weren’t taking any chances.
The club beefed up security across the board, including homes, businesses, and the clubhouse. The Handlers were prepared for whatever came their way.
That delicate gold chain around Beth’s pretty neck allowed him to sleep at night. It was pretty enough that no one questioned it, and smart enough to signal him if she needed help.
After the kidnapping, Beth went straight back to work as though nothing happened.
That was his ol’ lady. Brave didn’t begin to describe her. Neither did stubborn.
She stood near the counter, laughing, hands flying as she spoke to a family with three school-aged kids and a beautiful golden retriever. The afternoon sunlight caught in her strawberry hair, setting it ablaze. She looked so goddamn happy.
For a moment, Saint couldn’t breathe.
He thought of that warehouse. The chair. The bruises. The blood on her lips. He thought of how close he’d come to never seeing Beth in her element, surrounded by people who adored her, doing exactly what she was born to do.
She was here alive and thriving.
And Christ, she was beautiful when she won.
The rest of the event passed in the blink of an eye. Before he knew it, he was ushering the final customer out the door. He joined Beth, Screw, Gumby, and Jazz to clean and lock up. The five of them got the job done in record time.
“Well, goddamn, that was better than we could have asked for!” Screw shouted as he gathered Beth in a crushing hug.
Saint clenched his teeth and plastered a smile on his face so Beth wouldn’t see that, yes, it still fucking bothered him when another man touched her, no matter who it was or how platonic the touch. Every time, he had to resist the urge to break fingers and bust jaws.
“Should we celebrate?” Gumby asked as Screw set Beth down. “Dinner?”
Beth caught his gaze and winked. Maybe he wasn’t as good at hiding his possessive side as he thought. “Yes!” she said, grinning. “But I need to go home and shower first. I’m covered in fur.”
“Same,” Jazz said with a laugh. “How about we text you guys in an hour, and we can figure out where to eat.”
“Perfect.”
As soon as the trio left, Saint went to Beth, gathered her in his arms, and kissed the hell out of her, driving his tongue between her lips until she was soft, pliant, and whimpering.
“Whoa,” she said, blinking at him with dazed eyes. “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.” She pressed her palms to his chest. “In fact, do it again.”
Chuckling, he kissed her quickly this time. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Beth.”
Something flickered across her face, surprise, maybe, or wonder. Like she still couldn’t quite believe someone could be proud of her just for being herself.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “That means everything to me. I’m pretty proud of myself if I’m being honest.”
