Page 86 of Smitty

“No. I called in… Told them I wasn’t feeling well.”

“I bet that’s a first.”

“Yeah, they’ll probably be sending flowers by the end of the day.”

He studied me for a second before asking, “So, home?”

“Yeah. I could use a nap.”

“You’ve got it.”

He backed out of the space and started toward the gate. As we eased out onto the main road, Brayden glanced back at the clubhouse. There was a look of uncertainty in his eyes that tugged at my heart, but I didn’t say anything. Neither did he. I wasn’t sure if he was giving me space or if he was lost in his own thoughts.

If I had to guess, it was a little of both. He knew today was a bit of a shock for me, but he was also concerned about his brothers and what those pictures might’ve meant for them.

By the time we made it back to the house, I was exhausted and ready to pile up on the sofa. Brayden turned off the engine and offered me the keys as he said, “I can stay… if you don’t want to be alone.”

“No, I’m good. I’m just going to sleep for a bit.”

He reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear before leaning across the console to kiss me. His lips pressed against mine for just a moment, and then we both got out of the truck. When I started up the steps, he called, “I’ll check on you later.”

“Okay.” I opened the door and paused. “Brayden?”

“Yeah?”

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Do you want to see me?”

“As often as I can.”

“Then, I’ll be here.” A smile swept across his handsome face. “Get some rest. I’ll call you in a bit.”

I watched him walk over to his bike and kick his leg over the seat. He slipped on his helmet, and seconds later, the engine roared to life. As soon as he pulled out of the driveway, I went inside, dropped my stuff on the floor by the door, and went straight to the bedroom. I traded my jeans for an old pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt I’d stolen from Brayden years ago and never had the heart to throw away. It had faded with time, but it was still one of the most comfortable things I owned.

I climbed onto the couch, grabbed my favorite blanket, and pulled it over me. The second I closed my eyes, I found myself thinking about the clubhouse. I’d walked in there worried that I was making a huge mistake, and it didn’t help matters that I was surrounded by six-foot-something bikers covered in tattoos and beards.

To say they were intimidating was putting it lightly, but not one of them made me feel threatened or questioned my intentions. None of them made me feel like I’d overstepped by taking those pictures. Instead, they listened and thanked me, making me feel like I’d done them a huge favor.

It was unexpected, especially after all the crazy things I’d heard about them. The rumors were wild and hard to believe. They made it easy to make assumptions. I’d made plenty, but the men I’d met this morning weren’t the monsters the stories had made them out to be.

They were protective and fiercely devoted to one another, and I could see why Brayden was drawn to them. They were the family he’d fought so hard to find, and that alone made me want to get to know them.

Somewhere between the thoughts of brotherhood and the steady hum of the air conditioner, I finally managed to doze off. I have no idea how long I’d been sleeping when a man’s voice woke me with a start.

“Brooke?”

I gasped and opened my eyes to find Ryan standing in the doorway with a frown on his face. He sounded both surprised and annoyed when he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Damn.

I did not need this today.

17

SMITTY

The clubhouse had a life of its own. The country music spilling from the bar was its pulse, the brothers’ laughter was its breath, and the bond between the men inside was the blood running through its veins. Our job wasn’t just to keep it alive, but to keep it thriving. We did pretty good on the day-to-day, but there were times like these when it took all of us working together to keep the club, and each other, standing.