Finn exchanges a look with Rex but neither argues. They've seen me like this before—twenty years ago, when the club first formed and threats came from every direction.
I turn back to the engine and my hands shake.
A human woman I've known two weeks. A guest in my territory, nothing more—that's what I tell myself. That's the lie I've been swallowing since she touched my tusk and the wordmatedetonated in my skull.
Tonight I'm bringing her to family dinner.
I've lost my damn mind.
She steps out of her building at 7:45 and my lungs forget how to work.
The dress hits simple—dark blue, falling just above her knees, leaving her shoulders bare in the cooling October air. Her hair falls loose around her face, no jewelry except small gold studs in her ears, she looks like something I have no right to want.
Sarah spots my bike and her steps falter. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, then releases it. Nervousness, yes—but underneath it her scent changes. Her scent shifts—something brighter underneath, sharper, like she's running warm. I have to grip the handlebars to keep from crossing the distance between us.
"I wasn't sure what to wear." She smooths her hands down the dress. "Betty said casual but nice, and I don't have nice clothes right now, so I borrowed this from Imogen at the bookstore, and—"
"You look good." The words scrape out before I can stop them.
Her cheeks flush and my chest tightens.
I step closer and lift the helmet over her head, fingers grazing her jaw as I fasten the strap. The same electricity as the first night shoots through me. Her breath hitches. She feels it too.
"Ready?"
She nods and swings onto the bike behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist with her fingers not quite meeting across my stomach. Her thighs press against mine, her chest fits against my back, and something in me settles even as something else catches fire.
The ride takes fifteen minutes but feels like hours. Every breath she takes, I feel. Every shift of her weight sends heat spiking through my blood. By the time the clubhouse lights come into view, my jaw aches from clenching so hard.
The Shipyard glows golden against the dark water, music drifting from the open windows, and I catch the smell of burgers and something sweeter—Betty's pie. Sarah's arms loosen as I kill the engine.
"Last time it was quiet. This feels like a whole different place."
"Family dinner brings out the good side."
I help her off the bike and her hand stays in mine a beat too long. Neither of us mentions it.
Inside, the main room has transformed into organized chaos—brothers and their women crowding the long tables Garrett built last summer, kids chasing each other around the sofas, Rex's mother holding court by the fire pit doors and passing judgment on everyone's plate arrangement.
Lisa appears first—Tom's wife, both of them mechanics at the garage, family adjacent for years now. She takes one look at Sarah and pulls her toward the kitchen.
"Fresh meat. Thank God. Come on, I'll save you from the grunting."
Sarah glances back at me with wide eyes and I nod once. Lisa's safe. Lisa will take care of her.
I watch them disappear into the kitchen where the wives and girlfriends cluster around steaming pans and uncorked wine bottles. Sarah's laugh floats back—bright and genuine—and something in my chest unclenches.
"She fits in." Finn appears at my shoulder. "Didn't expect that."
I grunt.
"The women like her, Knox. That's not nothing. You know how they are with outsiders."
I know. The old ladies protect the club as fiercely as any patched member, don't welcome strangers easily, circle up and freeze out anyone who doesn't belong. But Sarah—
She emerges from the kitchen carrying a salad bowl, laughing at something one of the women said, and her whole face changes when she laughs. Lighter. Younger. Like the shadows I've seen in her eyes lift for a moment.
She sets down the bowl and catches me staring. The corner of her mouth curves up.
