I curse under my breath, wiping my mouth with my arm. “Both,” I answer honestly.
“Both?” she parrots, like she doesn’t believe me in the slightest.
“Both. She’s an amazing woman. She’s studying to be a surgeon. She’s smart and funny. Izzy doesn’t take shit from anyone either. She’s amazing,” I answer, sounding like a lovestruck teen.
“All that and gorgeous too?” she asks with a sly smile.
“Yeah, fucking spectacularly gorgeous,” I confirm.
“No way an old woman can compete with that,” she replies with a wink.
“I couldn’t handle you, Nana.”
“Probably not. Tell me, boy, if you’re so smitten with her, then why haven’t you locked her down already?”
“Lock her down? Nana, I think you’ve officially got the biker lingo down,” I murmur.
She gives me a look as her hand moves down over the leather cut that we gave her. The patch reads, Hot Nana. There’s another patch below that declaring her property of the Kings of Anarchy. She loved it. She’s traded in the bun she used to wear in her beautiful silver hair and now makes one lone braid down her back. She really is a hell of a woman.
“I think I fit right in. Just like my Georgie,” she says, watching me carefully.
I reach over and hug her, gently pulling her to me. “You do, Nana. All of us are glad you and Brushes are here.” Brushes is what we call Griff’s old lady, Georgia. She’s the one doing all the murals at the clubhouse and has kind of brought us all together. We’re a family now. Before Grifter, Brushes, and Nana, that wasn’t true. It was so bad that some of us thought of leaving the club. Now? It’s home. I’m hoping it’s a place that Izzy will love to be part of.
“Then, take my advice now, boy. Don’t be skittish around her. Let her know she’s yours.”
“I’ve tried, but honestly, Isolde is skittish. Her mind is on her education. I’m not sure she wants a relationship, so I’m fighting an uphill battle.”
“So? Just give her what she wants until she wants the same thing as you,” Nana says, like it’s the simplest thing ever.
“What does that mean exactly?” I ask. “′Cause I have to tell you, as weird as it sounds, I’m not looking forward to being a fuckbuddy to the woman I want on the back of my bike.”
It’s annoying even saying that out loud. It makes my fucking skin crawl. I want everything from Izzy. I want her on my bike. I want her belly stretched with our child. Fuck, anything and everything is what I want with Izzy by my side.
“Do you have so little confidence in yourself that you don’t think you’re capable of tying that woman to you by showing her the man in her bed is not only all she could ever want, but the best she will ever find?” She makes a tsking noise and shakes her head at me. “I guess I have more confidence in you than you have in yourself, C. That’s disappointing.”
“Isolde is not like other women. I don’t think she can be swayed by great sex, Nana.”
“Bullshit. If it has feeling in it, a woman can always be swayed by great sex. If she knows you care, trust me, you’ll eventually beat her walls down—or at least ram them enough her brain short circuits and she gives in.” Holy fuck. What Nana just said not only gives me hope, but it makes my cock wake up. There’s nothing more I want than ramming Izzy. Nana looks at me knowingly. “I see that light is finally on in that pretty boy head of yours. Get to work, C. If you want this woman, then stop acting like a pansy and claim her.”
With that, she turns around as if she’s dismissing me.
“Hey, wait. Where are you going?” I ask.
“I’ve got Bingo, son. Grifter’s already outside waiting on me. It’s good for my street cred to have sexy bikers dropping me off,” she shares.
“Bye, Nana.”
“Bye, C. Get to work. If you let her get away, I’m gonna be disappointed. Don’t let that happen.”
I watch her walk away, feeling like I always do when it comes to Nana.
Happy, worried, and more than a little terrified.
She’s a hell of a woman.
10
IF DENIAL WAS A SPORT, I’D HAVE A GOLD MEDAL
