I can hear him yawn. “So you decided to come sleep with me because having me close will cue your mind to include me as your badass protector, right?”
I find myself smiling in the dark, wondering if the answer to my bad dreams is really that easy. “From your mouth to God’s ear, my friend.”
He reaches out and pulls me close, tucking my head under his chin. “I hope my breaking Devon’s nose didn’t traumatize you.”
I snort a laugh. “Not likely. It was the best part of my day.”
“You don’t have to pretend to be tough with me, Nova. I know women don’t like violence.”
He’s not wrong about that but I don’t agree because I’m a Vulture and was raised to know that when guys won’t leave you alone when you ask, sometimes a little punch up does wonders.
I don’t know how much time passes. I just lay there on his massive chest and enjoy the warmth and support he offers. All the good and bad times Mica and I have shared run through my mind. The two of us hammering out the marriage contract, sitting on the floor counting money out of envelopes on our wedding night and the way Mica is always showing up for me when I need him the most. My trust in him has grown right along with my fondness, affection, and I daresay love.
I move slightly, making myself more comfortable. “You’re warm,” I say quietly. “Thanks for letting me sleep with you.”
“Are you kidding,” he deadpans back. “This is the highlight of my day.”
When I glance up, I can see the edge of his jaw in the dark room. My hand comes up to trace along his shoulder. I reach up and find the edge of the tattoo that runs along his collarbone, which is impossible not to see since my face is only a few inches away. He stays still as my fingers run around the edge.
“What’s this, a wolf?”
“It’s a coyote. One chased me when I was a little kid. I was around five or six and had wandered off from my family while searching for rocks. The fuckin’ feral creature damn near tore my arm out of my shoulder socket.”
About that time, my fingers find a long piece of scar tissue.
“You use tattoos to hide your scars?”
His head shifts slightly and his voice becomes sharper. “I use them to tell my life story. It seemed right to cover the scar with an image of the creature who made it.”
I flatten my hand against the jagged flesh. “In Vulture’s Pride, an experience like that would have earned you the club name Coyote.”
Mica’s voice gentles. “I fought off that damn coyote with a jagged piece of mica.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” I say moving even closer.
“All my brothers were named after our favorite rocks. I just happened to use mine to save my life. My folks probably would have called me Mica regardless of that attack.”
“What you’re saying is that some things are inevitable, right?”
“It sure feels that way sometimes,” he says with a sigh.
I prop myself up on one elbow. “What about us? Do you think us falling for each other is inevitable?”
He responds without hesitation, “Yes. On my side at least. You’re top shelf, Nova. I think any man with his head screwed on right would fall for you.”
It’s hard to keep the smile off my face. “You too,” I tell him. “I like how easygoing you are. You’re also smart, protective and you don’t take crap from nobody. You remind me a lot of my gramps.”
Mica chuckles. “That’s a high compliment coming from you.” After a short pause, he asks, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Not at all. Answering your curious questions is the least I can do after you welcomed me into your bed.” I realize the moment the words fly out of my mouth that it seems like I’m insinuating more than just sleeping. Before I can clarify, Mica asks the last thing I expect.
“I’ve been wondering something for months. When your grandfather passed, why didn’t his club vote in a new club president? I would think that Mac would be a shoo-in.”
It takes me a minute to organize my thoughts, but I make an effort to answer to the best of my ability. “I know most clubs don’t close up shop when the club president dies. Vulture’s Pride was made up of men my grandfather found in the local community. Most of them weren’t self-starters or go-getters. His VP, Dog, never wanted to take charge. To be honest, he was VP only in name. Mac was the only other one with leadership skills, but he’s not quite literate. I know that sounds awful but he dropped out of school in seventh grade and forgot most of what he learned. My gramps and I set up his phone, so everything is voice prompted. He once told me he was shuffled from grade to grade to get rid of him because he had behavioral problems.”
“But he works for your trucking company. How does that work if he can’t read the manifests?”
“Look, I don’t like talking about Mac’s personal business. He’d find it humiliating. But the reason he works for our company is that we custom made his manifests with little images of the items when he first came to work for us. He learned the word for each item pretty quick. I leave him voice messages rather than text him if changes come up. He’s really smart, just not book smart. He doesn’t have the patience to learn now that he’s older.”
