Page 49 of Nicolette

“I would be delighted to,” I answered, my grin now a wide smile.

He kissed the back of my hand, happiness shining in his eyes and a rumble of pleasure coming from his chest. My lioness was equally happy with this arrangement and gave a contented little sound that chimed more like a chirp than anything. I really needed to do a little more research on lions. Maybe it would help to know how to deal with her better.

“Rammy baby, what can I get you?” one of the bartenders asked as she chomped on a piece of gum.

“Just our order, Merideth. The guys called it down, so it should be ready,” he answered, not taking his eyes off me.

I, however, didn’t have that much willpower as my hackles rose with this woman calling him baby—gross. Rambler was anything but. He was all man from head to toe. I’d checked personally. The woman was clearly put out that Rambler wasn’t acknowledging her but turned on her heel and walked away, her long dark hair swishing away from her high ponytail.

“I’m gonna need you to be honest with me. Is this really what it’s going to be like with every single woman?” I sighed. “You all warned me that just the fact I claimed you as sexual partners was going to cause drama. It’s my fault for not believing you, but what the fuck is going to happen when they find out we’re exclusive… for life?”

Rambler released my hand and caught my chin, tilting it up, so I looked into his eyes. “They mean nothing, Nic. You hear me? There is nothing anyone can say or do to make me ever see another woman the way I view you. It scares the shit out of me how fast and intense this is, but there’s nothing I can do about it, nor do I want to. Don’t concern yourself with them. They are of no consequence.”

“Is that so?” The bartender snapped, slamming down the bags that had their to-go orders. “We mean nothing to you? So you can lead us on, promise to look out for us, let us suck your dick, and that means nothing? Fuck you, Rambler.”

My body moved faster than my brain, which still believed I was human, and grabbed the front of Merideth’s T-shirt. Dragging her forward and half off the bar, I flipped her on her back, so I was looming above. My lioness snarled, furious at the disrespect this bobcat was showing us.

“You will watch your fucking mouth.” I snarled, teeth bared. “I don’t give a fuck how you feel about what he just said, but you will show him some goddamn respect. He is a leader of this pride and the MC who provides for all of us. Now apologize to him and be real specific about what you did wrong, so I know you understand how big you fucked up.” Releasing her with a little shove to get her back on her side of the bar, I waited.

She was livid, I could see it in her body posture and the clench of her jaw, but she didn’t dare meet my gaze. She couldn’t. The woman wasn’t strong enough to have a showdown with me the way Amaretto had tried. This girl would be on her knees in two seconds.

“I’m sorry, Rambler, I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way and been so disrespectful. It won’t happen again,” Merideth said as if she was forced to chew glass, each word being more painful than the last. “Can I go back to work now, ma’am?”

While I hated that she called me ma’am, it was a sign of respect, so I’d let it go. “You may,” I confirmed with a nod.

I don’t think I’d ever seen someone run away from me faster than she had. I knew I should have let it be, but I just couldn’t. Something told me it had more to do about being a lioness and pecking order than it had about her shitty attitude toward Rambler. I grabbed one of the bags with the to-go boxes and shook off the interaction.

“Where to?” I asked.

“My place. We thought it might be best to give you a break from everyone for a bit,” Rambler shared as he grabbed the other bag and guided me out of the crowd. “Your lioness seems to be a stickler about rank, doesn’t she?”

“Right now, she sure fucking is. My hope would be that once I’ve established my place in the pride, it won’t be so bad. It’s almost like she feels the women are unruly children running wild, and she needs to get them to mind their manners.” I sighed.

The rest of the guys were waiting for us near the door. Once we were spotted, they headed out with Marco holding the door open for me. “M’lady,” he teased.

The night was clear, and the weather was mild for this season, but I was thankful for the leather jacket. We walked back to the apartment building in comfortable silence, and it stayed that way until we reached Rambler’s apartment. He was housed in number two.

“Make yourself at home,” he announced as he set the food on the counter and started to sort through them. “Because I’m the only one who believes in having a normal home with things like a table and chairs, we end up at my place often. Beer and other drinks are in the fridge, so help yourself. If there’s something you need, just ask, or feel free to rummage around until you find it.”

When he said this place was a real home, he meant it. Everything was neat and tidy. Almost as if someone had come in to stage the place for a home decor magazine. An article on tips to make your bachelor pad seem inviting to female guests. Seriously, the man had black and gray throw pillows on the suede caramel-colored sectional couch. In a nook with a window was the table that sat six people, making me wonder where the seventh person would sit. I shouldn’t have worried because after I grabbed my soda, I watched as Rambler took a goddamn folding chair out of his hall closet.

“Who are you?” I blurted, totally shocked at this side of his personality. “Is your mother Martha Stewart or something?”

He looked around the place as if there was something wrong with it that he hadn’t seen. Finding nothing, he looked back at me. “Who is Martha Stewart?”

Laughter burst out of me to the point I doubled over, needing to hold on to the counter, so I didn’t end up on the floor. “Oh fuck, that was the best possible answer ever because I got a little worried there.”

“Does anyone know what’s going on?” Marco whispered loudly.

“Martha Stewart was a businesswoman who specialized in various home economic skills like cooking, crafts, and interior decorating,” Dice informed the room. The guys gawked at him, but he just shrugged and resumed tossing his dice. “My foster mother liked to watch reruns of her show in the afternoons.”

“That still doesn’t explain what that has to do with my place?” Rambler muttered.

Polo patted him on the back affectionately. “She means your place looks like it was put together by a woman. It’s not a bad thing, but she saw Nine and Circus’s place before yours.”

“Ah… so she thinks that we all live like college frat boys and hippies with no class,” Rambler determined, nodding as he set silverware and napkins on the table. “I grew up with a mother who was a drunk and didn’t give a shit about anything in her life until it fell apart and inconvenienced her. Clearly, I’ve gone the opposite direction on that front.”

Sensing that he was done discussing that topic, I tried to take a seat at the table but was grabbed before my butt hit the folding chair. “Yeah, sorry, babe, but you’re not sitting there. You get one of the real chairs,” Marco stated.