Page 165

Rooster

“Shit,” I hiss, glancing up at the clock on the wall in the living room. Lennon and I have spent the last two hours on the couch, watching some show she put on about crab fishing or some shit. I don’t know. I’ve been too fucking distracted by her body all curled up against mine and her gorgeous legs thrown over my lap. Lennon’s head pops up from my shoulder and she frowns as she studies me.

“What?”

I give her calf a squeeze. “We gotta go, baby.”

“What?” she asks again, her scowl deepening. “Where the hell are we going?”

“Clubhouse. I’ve got church and then, I have a surprise for you,” I tell her, moving her legs off my lap and standing up. Reaching down, I grab her hand and pull her up off the couch as she lets out a groan.

“I don’t wanna. I was becoming a vegetable.”

I laugh. “Baby, we’ve been becoming vegetables all damn weekend. It’s time to go be human beings again.”

“If I must,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes but there is a sparkle in her eyes that tells me she’s not really all that annoyed. “But I demand to know what this supposed surprise is.”

I shake my head, smacking her ass as she walks past me toward the front door. “Not a chance.”

“Why?” she squeaks, faux indignation all over her pretty face.

“Because it would ruin it.” I step up beside her as she pulls on the short black boots I bought her Saturday that are better for riding. She’s still wearing a pair of cutoff jean shorts and I shake my head at her.

“Uh, no.”

She arches a brow. “No, what, Dalton?”

“You need to go put on jeans, at least.”

Her groan echoes through the house. “Baby, it is like one hundred degrees out there. I don’t want to wear jeans.”

“I don’t care,” I tell her, crossing my arms and shooting her a look. “It’s not safe for you to ride in a pair of shorts.”

“Dalton, I already wear that damn leather jacket you got me. Isn’t that enough?”

I shake my head. “Hell no. We need to protect every inch of this gorgeous skin. Now, go change.”

She throws her hands up in the air and spins towards the stairs, complaining every step of the way about how hot it is outside and how I’m too overprotective.

I don’t give a shit.

I won’t risk her if I can fucking help it.

A thump sounds from upstairs and I laugh when I hear her, still bitching about having to put on full pants in the dead of summer and unreasonable, stubborn bikers.

I feel one hundred fucking pounds lighter after the fight on Friday and spending an entire weekend locked away with Lennon here in the home I built. Something changed between the two of us that night and I think we’re done fighting it. I still have no fucking clue how to do any of this shit but her being here makes me happy.

And that’s a sentence I never thought would come out of my fucking mouth.

Shit.

I can’t even remember the last I felt this at peace before Lennon came into my life.

If I ever was.

Sure, I joked with my friends and could go out and have a good time. I feel settled here with my brothers in a way I’ve never had before but was I truly happy?

No.