17
CLARA
The kitchen felt even more like the heart of the clubhouse when it was filled with cinnamon, sugar, and the sweet tang of orchard fruit. I’d brought a whole peck of apples with me, weighing eleven pounds. I figured sharing some of our bounty was the least I could do, but it turned out to be to my benefit too because having so much fruit provided me with the perfect distraction while Ronan was out there doing whatever had put that dark gleam in his stormy eyes.
I was elbow-deep in pie dough, rolling out crusts while Poppy measured sugar and Stella sliced apples. Linden sat at the table with her feet propped on another chair, munching one of the figs I brought. I was glad she was enjoying them since they were a superfood filled with nutrients that were great for pregnant women.
Elena leaned against the counter, one hand cradling her rounded belly while the other was wrapped around a mug of herbal tea.
It was late, and the common room beyond the kitchen door was quiet except for the low murmur of a couple prospects keeping watch. Nobody had said where the guys went, but Ididn’t need words to know that Ronan was doing something dangerous. I’d been baking since he left, to keep my hands busy and my mind from spiraling.
We already had a batch of apple blossoms cooling, as well as a few dozen of my mom’s glazed apple cookies. There had been more, but we’d all munched on a couple while they were still hot.
Poppy bumped my hip. “You’re over kneading that dough.”
I laughed, but it sounded thin. “Better than pacing.”
Stella glanced up from the apples she was peeling. “You’re doing great. The first time waiting is always the worst.”
Elena rubbed slow circles over her belly. “Second time isn’t much better. Third either. You just learn to breathe through it.”
I pressed the dough into the pan. “How do you do it? Know they’re out there, possibly hurt, and just wait?”
“You trust them.” Linden smiled softly. “They’re possessive as heck and won’t take stupid risks when they’ve got us waiting at home. The last thing any of them wants is to leave us available for some other guy to try and claim.”
Poppy snorted. “Yeah. Colter would come back from the dead just to beat the crap out of the guy who thought he had a shot with me.”
Stella nodded with a laugh. “True. But it’s more than that. They protect each other out there. The club rallies. Always has.”
“And when they don’t come back right away?” Elena shifted, wincing a little. “We keep the home fires burning, and it often involves baked goods like tonight. Proving exactly how well you fit in with all of us.”
After dumping the filling into the pan, I pressed the top crust over it, crimping the edges with shaky fingers. “I get that. I do. It’s just that I’ve never had to wait like this.”
Poppy reached over and squeezed my wrist. “You’re doing exactly what we all did the first time. You’re here. That’s enough.”
The conversation drifted to baby names, nursery ideas, and how Linden was already craving pickles at three in the morning. I listened and even smiled a couple times. But underneath it all, the worry gnawed.
I set the pies in the oven, wiped my hands on a towel, and finally let the words out. “I’m scared he won’t be happy at the orchard. With the quiet life. Running the farm, raising kids there, taking over when my parents step back. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but it’s simple. Not dangerous. The complete opposite of this.” I gestured vaguely around me. “What if he gets restless? Or resents me for tying him to a life that doesn’t have the adrenaline he’s used to?”
Stella set down her knife. “Do you expect him to give up his patch for you?”
“Absolutely not.” My voice came out sharper than I meant, but her question shocked me because it was something I’d never considered. “I would never ask that. The last thing I want to do is change him. The Hounds are part of who he is. I respect that.”
All of the women smiled, and then Poppy laughed softly. “Knew the answer before you even opened your mouth, bestie.”
Stella leaned forward, her voice gentle as she murmured, “He’d give it up for you, Clara. If you asked. Our men would burn the world down or walk away from it entirely if that’s what we needed. But you give him the peace that balances the danger. The family he never had growing up. The roots.”
Linden nodded. “As long as you accept him patch and all, he gets the best of both worlds. He keeps doing what he does best for the Hounds, then he comes home to you. To the life that reminds him there’s light after the dark.”
“Your mom and dad told me all about how much help he’s been.” Poppy squeezed my hand. “From what they said, anyone who’s seen him out there knows he finds satisfaction in it. And your family adores him.”
Stella’s eyes were soft. “Rebel doesn’t talk about it a lot, at least not around me. But I’ve heard enough to know he never had roots growing up. You give him the stability he’s probably always craved. He’s not going to walk away from it. Or you.”
“I just…I want him to have everything.” I blinked back tears, swallowing hard. “The club, a house on my family’s land. Kids running around. But I don’t want him to feel like he’s giving anything up.”
Elena reached over, covering my hand with hers. “He won’t. You’re not taking anything away. You’re adding. You’re giving him a place to come home to.”
The low rumble of engines drifted through the open window. Poppy grinned. “They’re back.”
