“Only the ones who deserve it.”I bent to press a kiss against her hairline, breathing her in.Soap, lavender, and warm skin -- peace distilled into one breath.
The scent mingled with woodsmoke from nearby chimneys, the faint sound of engines starting as the first group of brothers rode out for morning runs.The club was alive, moving, thriving again.
Callie’s voice pulled me back.“You ever miss it?”
“What?”
“The chaos.The fights.The constant edge of danger.”Her tone wasn’t accusing -- just curious.
I thought for a long moment.The truth deserved more than a quick answer.“Sometimes,” I admitted.“Not the danger itself, but the certainty that comes with it.When you’re fighting, everything’s simple.You know what side you’re on.”
“And now?”
“Now it’s still simple,” I said, running my thumb along her jaw.“I’m on yours.”
Her eyes softened, and whatever she’d been about to say disappeared in the distance between one heartbeat and the next.The wind shifted, carrying the faint smell of rain from the hills.
“Storm coming,” she murmured.
“Nothing new there.”
In the distance, thunder rumbled.I eyed the sheets and knew we’d need to take them back inside.We quickly gathered them and went inside to the laundry room, laughter echoing between us as the first raindrops started to fall against the tin roof.
“Guess I didn’t think that one through,” Callie said.
By late afternoon the storm had passed, leaving the compound washed clean and gleaming beneath a slate sky.Callie and I worked side by side on the clubhouse porch, sorting tangled strings of lights into organized piles.Each bulb reflected warm gold in her hands when the sun hit it.
“Remind me how we volunteered for this?”she asked, looping one strand neatly over her arm.
“Beast voluntold me,” I replied, climbing the ladder to attach another string along the beam.“You married into the punishment.”
She rolled her eyes.“We’re not married.”
“Technicality,” I muttered, earning the small smile I’d been fishing for.
Lyssa leaned out the doorway with her ever-present clipboard.“You two handling the front half?”
“Nearly done,” Callie answered.
“Good.Brick’s wiring the speakers, and Ranger’s on the generator.”Lyssa checked a note.“The food delivery’s tomorrow morning, so don’t let the Prospects slack.”
“Understood.”Callie’s answer carried a quiet authority that even Lyssa respected.
When the door shut again, she turned back to me.“Do you think I’ll ever get used to the way everyone listens when I talk now?”
“Hope not.”I tightened one last zip tie, stepping down from the ladder.“Keeps them sharp.”
She laughed, picking up another coil of lights.“You sound like Beast.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was.”
The quiet stretched between us again, comfortable now.She reached into the box for another string of lights, then froze, eyes narrowing slightly.“You hiding something from me?”
“Define something.”I tried for neutral, but guilt pricked my tone.
Her hands went to her hips.“You’re ridiculously bad at lying.”
