Own the Wind

Chapter Fifteen

Lucky

One month later…

I stood out in the cold, a beer in my hand, next to a steel drum filled with fire giving off a wave of heat. I felt an arm slide along my shoulders and I tipped my head just in time to hear Landon, who’d claimed me, say, “Jesus, Tab, what’s goin’ on with that? It’s like a hippie hookin’ up at a Tea Party rally.”

My eyes went to where his were aimed and I saw Lanie and Hop, not quite hidden by the steps that led up to the office that they were behind but mostly hidden by the dark of the November night. She looked glamorous, as usual, her glossy, thick dark hair gleamed even in the distant fire and floodlights. I’d gabbed with her earlier and saw she was casual for Lanie, wearing jeans, but her killer, expensive boots, elegant sweater, and the pashmina she had wrapped around her neck screamed class.

Hop, on the other hand, was in beat-up, faded jeans (that still looked good on him), a black thermal, and his battered cut, a black leather jacket with the Chaos insignia on the back. His dark hair was overlong and falling in his face, and his kick-ass, biker mustache that ran thick across his lip and down the sides of his mouth needed a trim. Something, knowing Hop for ages, I knew he’d get around to when he felt like it, he had a classy dame in his bed or not. This could be the next day. This could be next month.

I watched as they talked, then Hop suddenly grabbed Lanie and I held my breath when he kissed her, hot and heavy.

I had to give it to her, she struggled.

For about five seconds.

Then her arms wrapped around his shoulders, he arched her further into the shadows, twisting his torso so I could see nothing but the indistinct Chaos emblem on his cut, and I knew they were going at it.

My eyes darted around the forecourt of Ride, where we were currently engaged in the eating and drinking portion of a Chaos hog roast. The raising-hell portion would come in about half an hour after the pig was decimated and there were more bottles passed around than plastic cups being filled from kegs.

I spied Dad, his eyes pinned to the stairs and thus Lanie and Hop, and his eyes were narrowed.

Uh-oh.

My gaze moved, and I located Tyra talking with Dog’s woman, Sheila, and she had her back to the couple.

Shoo.

“Don’t know, sweetheart, but thinkin’ that right there flies in the face of all that’s holy,” Lan muttered, and I burst out laughing.

Through my laughter, I saw him grinning down at me.

I kept laughing even as I felt something warm hit my belly, my eyes wandered from his, and I saw Shy fifteen feet away, standing with Boz, Roscoe, and Bat, looking at me, his lips curved up, his face, clear in the floodlights, happy.

His brother and his girl were getting on and just with something as simple as that, all was right in Shy Cage’s world.

Knowing that, one could say all was right in mine too.

Suffice it to say, Landon had been true to his word. The time it took for me to prove to him that he trusted me with his brother didn’t last long. It happened close after all hell broke loose with Chaos.

As for me, I knew I’d fall in love with my man’s brother when Shy, Rush, and I hit Denver International Airport to fly down for my grandmother’s funeral, and Lan was at the gate. Shy hadn’t said a word, probably because he knew I’d try to talk him out of Landon taking time out of his life and money to buy a plane ticket in order to be with me during what the Cage brothers thought was my hour of need.

Seeing Lan there, I was shocked.

Lan simply gave me a hug and muttered in my ear, “Family looks after family.”

That was sweet and all, but flying to Arizona to attend the funeral of a woman he didn’t know and, obviously, seeing as she was deceased, he’d never meet?

I would understand during the funeral why he was there when I discovered what the Brothers Cage had arranged.

This was, while Rush and I hung tight and Shy gave me his support, Lan wasted no time in his approach to Mom. I didn’t know what he said. I just knew by the look on her face when he was saying it, she heard him. He lurked close to her the entire time I was in her space, at the funeral home, the gravesite, and at Gramps’s after.

His message was clear: Don’t get any ideas about being a bitch to Tabby (and she would, it was Mom’s way, even at her mother’s funeral). You do, I’ll pounce. Seeing as he wasn’t exactly small but he was obviously a badass, Mom, who could miss the most blatant of hints, didn’t miss Lan’s message.

Therefore, I endured Gram’s funeral without having to endure my mom being a bitch. She didn’t even chance throwing a bitchy look at me. She stayed well away.

That did it for me with Lan, but I didn’t know what did it for Lan with me. I just knew I’d been let in. When he called Shy, or Shy was talking to him and I was around, he asked him to pass the phone over and we gabbed. Not forever and not deep but friendly, warm, and sweet. And now that he was up for the weekend, he joked and teased, all genuine, all real, nothing watchful, nothing fake.

I knew Shy loved it.

So did I.

The good part of that awful visit to Arizona was that Shy and Lan got a chance to see their grams. We met her for dinner. I loved her on the spot. This was because she was beside herself with joy at the surprise chance to spend time with her boys and she didn’t hide it. This was also because she flirted audaciously with Rush. It was funny. She was funny, and something else she didn’t hide was that she clocked Shy loved me and folded me into the family immediately.

My grandmother dying sucked but, it had to be said, gaining Shy’s grandmother was awesome.

“Good to hear you laughin’, Tab. You been quiet,” Landon observed. I gave Shy a smile and then looked up at his brother.

“I’m good.”

His head tipped to the side and his eyes held mine. “Sure?”

I shrugged but his arm didn’t leave me. “Just shit at work,” I admitted.

“Dr. Dickhead,” he stated knowingly.

As an FYI, bikers were not taciturn. I’d known this my whole life. They were in the life to be who they were and do what they wanted and that included, for those of that bent, saying whatever the heck they wanted to say whenever the heck they wanted to say it to whoever they wanted to say it to. Although some could be quiet, introspective, or mysterious, most of them let it all hang out.

And I knew from him telling me and listening to them talk that Shy let it all hang out with Lan.

Therefore, it wasn’t a surprise Lan knew about Dr. Dickhead, because Dr. Dickhead had not calmed down. Gossip, proved accurate by his mood, stated his supply-room piece had called Dr. Dickhead’s wife and broke the news that her husband was a cheater. This did not go over very well and included him sleeping on the couch in his office for a week while he found a new apartment.

For me, it meant I was again, for some unfathomable reason, his target, and he’d ratcheted up the nastiness pretty significantly.

At first, I shared the misadventures of Tabby and Dr. Dickhead with Shy. Now, I did not. He was pissed, and the more I talked, the more pissed he got. Considering that my landlord simply pressed to have a twelve-month lease and Shy got up in his face, I wasn’t fired up to drive him to intervene with Dr. Dickhead, something he already promised he’d do.

So I quit talking about it.

Suffice it to say, the all good parts of Shy and I building a friendship on which we fell in love and began to build a relationship had ended. This was not to say things still weren’t amazing. It was just to say that life was life and not everything was perfect all the time.

For instance, Shy threw his clothes all over the floor, and this drove me nuts. I decided to put up with it but then, after I gathered them and put them in the hamper, Shy disappeared anytime I was going to the Laundromat.

This, I decided not to put up with.

“Did I get a biker badass who’s great at serving up orgasms and has a natural talent with sweet, or did I get that and an unpaid laundress’s job?” I’d asked irately the last time I came back from the Laundromat to see Shy in front of the TV with a beer.

“Don’t do laundry, babe,” he told the TV.

Not me, the TV. He didn’t look at me, and he certainly didn’t look at the hamper I was lugging in.

“Did you have a magic spell before me that you could cast over your clothes to get them clean?” I sniped, dumping the clean, folded hamper of clothes in my armchair.

His eyes finally shifted to me. “No.”

“So someone did your laundry, because your clothes are worn but they weren’t filthy before me.”

His eyes went carefully blank before he advised quietly, “Don’t go there.”

Oh God.

I went there and did so by planting my hands on my hips and stating, “Your bitches did them for you.”

“Told you not to go there,” he muttered, eyes going back to the TV screen.

“Shy,” I called. He sighed and looked at me. “Seeing as you’re here, your clothes are here, you sleep in my bed every night, come home to my place every evening, we’re essentially living together. So we have to figure out how to do that without me getting pissed.”

“All right, sugar, but like I said, I don’t do laundry.”

“Okay, boss, what do you do?” I shot back.

“Nothin’,” he stated and I blinked before my eyes narrowed, something Shy didn’t miss. I knew this when he warned, “Do not go off on one. I’ve pretty much crashed at the Compound for the last nine years, so I didn’t even take care of my own place. That bitch who raised me after my mom died didn’t do shit for us. We didn’t only keep our room clean and did our own laundry, we did their laundry and cleaned their house while her kids sat on their asses and watched TV. So I’ve had my fill of laundry and cleaning, and I don’t intend to do any fuckin’ more of it. I’ll take out the trash. I’ll get the groceries, since you seem allergic to the grocery store. I’m in the mood, I’ll clean up the kitchen. You got somethin’ you want me to do that doesn’t include washin’ clothes or pushin’ a vacuum, we’ll talk. But, babe, you can get pissed, you can rant, you can try sweet, I am not washin’ clothes and I’m not pushin’ a vacuum. Do you understand me?”

Pulling the bitch aunt to Shy’s future biker Cinderella card unfortunately worked, so I retorted, “Fine. I don’t like pumpin’ gas, therefore it’d be cool, when you use my car, if you would top her up.”

“I can do that,” he replied, lips twitching.

“And,” I went on, not liking the lip twitch, “put your clothes in the hamper, not on the floor.”

“Can do that too.”

“And—”

“Tab, quit while you’re ahead,” he warned me.

“Not feelin’ ahead of anything yet, darlin’,” I shared.

“I’ll pump gas, change your oil, get groceries, take care of the garbage, and dump my clothes in the hamper. Mind, I also do most of the cookin’,” he reminded me. “That’s what you got. You nag or bust my balls, I can dump my clothes wherever the fuck I want at my place or the Compound, and I won’t have a woman gettin’ up in my face about it.”

Was he serious?

“Are you threatening me with leaving?” I asked.

“I’m sayin’, quit while you’re ahead,” he returned.

“So you’re threatening me with leaving,” I surmised.

“I’m sayin’, you want me here, you are in the know about the kind of man you picked. I laid it out. It’s the way it is. If you don’t like the way it is, I can make alternate arrangements.”

“Therefore threatening to leave,” I finished for him.

“You either want me like I am, babe, or yeah, I can find a place where I don’t have hassle.”

“Which, just for your information, Shy, would mean me having a home without the additional hassle of cleaning up after two people and doing two people’s laundry.”

“Yeah, sugar, you’d also go to bed alone with no one to eat your pussy,” he retorted.

Since that nearly made my head explode, I decided, because he wouldn’t clean it up if brain and skull fragments were splattered all over the living room, I should extricate myself from the conversation pronto.

This I did, grabbing the handles of the hamper, storming off, slamming the bedroom door behind me, making a lot of noise when I put away the clothes then locking myself in the bathroom with my phone.

Of course, I hefted my behind up on the vanity, called Ty-Ty and shared with her, at length, about Shy and my fight.

This conversation didn’t go much better.

“Tabby, honey,” she started, using a cautious tone that made me brace, “your father has not vacuumed a floor in the years we’ve been together. To be honest, I haven’t even asked. Kane Allen is not a man who vacuums floors.”

“Well, I’m not you and Shy’s not Dad and I didn’t ask him to vacuum floors. We were negotiating and he cut me off before things were balanced and that’s uncool,” I fired back.

“No, you are not me, but Shy is Tack but younger, and I know this isn’t what you want to hear but he’s also not wrong. You’ve lived your whole life with your dad and his brothers, honey, so you also know it.”

This sucked but it was true.

“Love you, Tabby,” she went on quietly. “And I’ll listen to anything you want to share with me. I’ll also have a mind to not oversharing with you. What I will say is, there are a variety of ways your father makes putting up with all his extreme, uh… man-ness worth it. You need to hang in there and see if Shy makes it worth it.”

I got her though I kinda blocked out some of the parts I got.

She was right, of course. Shy already made it worth it, of course. But I was too stubborn to admit defeat (yet), of course.

I rang off with Ty-Ty, called Natalie (again), got no answer (again), and avoided Shy by hanging out in the bedroom until bedtime.

Or, I should say, I avoided Shy until Shy was done with me avoiding him.

I knew he was done, because he made this clear by walking in the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth. His hands at my hips, he turned me, lifted me, planted my behind on the vanity, pulled the toothbrush out of my hand, and tossed it into the sink.

Then he leaned into me, hands on the counter on either side of me, and ordered, “Stop bein’ pissed. You know you don’t give a fuck if I vacuum the fuckin’ floors.”

Truthfully, I didn’t. Rush used to vacuum until I made him stop because he sucked at it. It wasn’t like I didn’t know this was his ploy. It was just that it wasn’t worth the headache of calling him on it when I could just vacuum and be done with it. And I discovered it wasn’t worth the headache because I’d spent years getting a headache calling him on it before I got smart, gave up, and just did it myself.

At that moment, however, I had a mouth full of toothpaste foam and face to save.

Priorities, I twisted, spit the foam in the sink, reached and grabbed the hand towel, wiped my mouth and tossed the towel on the counter.

Then I glared at him and shared, “Just so you know, there’s really only one kind of biker. He might share his feelings, he might not. He might fuck around on his woman, he might not. He might carouse a wee bit more than is healthy, he might not. But down deep, a biker is a biker and I know you’re a biker.”

“All right, and…?” he prompted when I shut up and didn’t keep going so I kept going.

“There’s only one kind of biker, Shy, but there are three kinds of old ladies. One lets her man walk all over her. One turns into a bitch like Mom or Mitzi. And one is like Tyra, who gives but also expects to get her take. I’m like Tyra. I’m not Tyra, but you should know, I’ve considered the options and chosen that biker-babe life plan. You don’t wanna vacuum, I’m not gonna make you. But don’t cut me off by making asshole remarks because you’ve decided the conversation is over. Respect me or, truthfully, I love you, you know it, you mean the world to me, but that will dig deep, fester, and there will come a time when I don’t mind your clothes are on the floor at the Compound.”

His face changed, I held my breath at the change as he growled, “There will never come a time when you don’t mind my clothes are on the floor at the Compound.”

A vow.

Absolutely.

Not an apology but I got him and I’d take it.

I was smart enough not to gloat.

“Right, so, I’ve brushed my teeth, you haven’t, so you’re free to eat something before you go to sleep,” I declared. That intense look left his face, his eyes flashed with heat, then I was off the vanity, in the bedroom, tossed on the bed, my panties were gone, and Shy ate something before he went to sleep.

Truth was, I used my mouth before finally falling asleep too, but fortunately what I used it for wouldn’t give me any cavities.

Also, before falling asleep, Shy proved he intended to make it worth it, and it wasn’t by giving me two orgasms (or it wasn’t only that).

It was by muttering right before I fell asleep, “Just so you know, babe, the kind of biker I am does not fuck around on his woman.”

Other women might not think it was worth knowing she was the one who would be cleaning the toilets without a break for the rest of her life, but it worked for me.

That was the worst run-in we’d had. Although we’d butted heads a couple of times, it was nothing that sent me to fuming alone in my bedroom.

And in an effort to continue that run, I was not sharing with Shy about Dr. Dickhead.

Shy, like all the members of the Club, got a monthly cut of the profits from Ride Custom Car and Bikes as well as the three auto supply stores they ran, one in Denver, one in Colorado Springs, and one in Fort Collins. The boys moseyed their badasses into the store to work the counter, stock the shelves, keep the inventory, and those, like Shy, who had the skills worked in the garage on the cars and bikes. No one scheduled it but such was the loyalty to the brotherhood, not to mention their livelihood, no one sluffed off either.

The cut of profits was only graduated as to whether you were a full member or a recruit.

Every member had to pledge the Club and put up with however much crap the brothers made him do for however long they decided it lasted. Chaos wasn’t into rules, so it wasn’t like if they pledged, they’d be facing six months or a year and the boys knew when the torture would end, they’d get their cut, ink their tat on their back, and they could sally forth as full-fledged badasses. It was never six months or less, but it could be over a year before the boys sat down and voted a new man in.

And by crap they had to take from the members, I meant anything.

Anything.

And anything was really anything when you lived in a biker world.

So recruits got paid because they also worked in the store or the garage but they got paid less.

The Club made no distinction on pay according to terms of membership for full brothers. Although the cut went up and down with the profits, according to Shy, the checks tripled between recruit and member. The amounts, even in leaner months, were also not shabby.

This meant, with Shy keeping a low-profile apartment and not buying clothes for about six years, he was sitting on a mountain of money.

So Shy, like all the brothers, did his bit at the store and he also worked in the garage. As far as I could see, he pretty much did both in equal measure. Therefore, he didn’t keep a schedule, he went when he went, came home when he was done working, but he was at Ride often.

He also did things with his brothers and for the Club in daylight hours and sometimes at night that he didn’t share with me, and I knew enough about the life not to ask. No, strike that, never to ask. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me. I’d heard my mom and dad fighting enough to learn that lesson.

I knew the Club was clean, Dad fought to make it that way.

But the golden rule for any Chaos old lady was to take her man’s back when needed, stand at his side when needed, ask no questions in order to get no lies, and know the goodness of her man outweighed the things he might need to do to keep the Club thriving. If she didn’t follow this golden rule, she would find herself no longer an old lady.

In other words, Shy was around, we spent time together, we talked, we made love, we ate together, we watched TV together, but Shy also had his own life, his own things to do, and his own things on his mind so not sharing about Dr. Dickhead had been successful.

“He still fuckin’ with you?” Lan asked, and I focused from my thoughts onto him.

“It’s his way,” I tried to blow it off, but his eyes narrowed on me.

“Better or worse?”

“Depends on the day, Lan.” I shook my head. “It’s just him. He does it to everybody.”

Though not as much as he does it to me, I thought, but didn’t share.

“Not cool, you’re quiet, off work, at a party with your man and family, and it’s on your mind,” Landon pushed.

He wasn’t wrong.

Still, I shrugged again and muttered, “That’s life.”

He dropped his arm from around my shoulders and turned to me. “Tab, I know you wanna make sure you don’t have a reputation as flighty or trouble at work, but if a bunch of folks are eatin’ this guy’s shit, maybe someone should do something. Maybe you can talk to a few of ’em, strength in numbers, so it isn’t just you swingin’ your ass out there.”

That, actually, wasn’t a bad idea.

So I nodded and replied, “I’ll think about that. I know some of the other nurses are over it, so I’ll talk with a few of them. Test the waters.”

“You do that, honey, but you quit ’cause of things with Shy but also because you couldn’t put up with that asshole anymore. I don’t know if you told them then but even if it rubs you wrong, life’s too short for that bullshit. So if you gotta look for another job, you do it no regrets. If they were loyal to you, they wouldn’t let this guy fuck with your head. So you just be loyal to you, yeah? Find somethin’ that won’t make you quiet when you should be havin’ fun. You with me?” he finished on a gentle question.

“I’m with you, Lan, thanks,” I replied.

He grinned down and me and, seriously, Shy told me he didn’t have a girl and I thought that was miraculous.

Then his eyes wandered over my shoulder and stopped. I looked over my shoulder, saw a big-boobed, full-hipped, big-haired, blonde biker groupie giving Lan the eye, and I knew it wasn’t miraculous.

He was like his brother, chasing tail, enjoying gathering lipstick, but I suspected when he settled, he’d find ways to make his badass man-ness worth it.

“Right, Tab, gonna take you to my brother. I got things to do,” he stated.

Oh yeah, he had things to do.

“Luckily, Shy’s at my place all the time or I foresee I’d need to change his sheets,” I mumbled through a grin as Lan hooked his arm around my shoulders and started us toward my man.

“Absolutely,” he muttered, I looked up at him and gave him my grin.

He looked down at me and smiled.

Then he looked at his brother. “Your girl needs company.”

His arm fell away.

Shy’s replaced it instantly.

Then he pressed his lips to the top of my hair and kissed me.

Seriously. Loved my man.

Lan jerked up his chin, and I encouraged, “Go get her, tiger.”

He shot me another smile, took off, and Shy asked, “What?”

“Landon is about to see if he’s lucky,” I shared.

Shy’s eyes went to his brother and mine followed. The girl was looking under her lashes at him as he approached. Lan was grinning at her.

Something caught the corner of my eye, I turned my head and saw, in the shadows at the edge of the revelry, Hop dragging Lanie toward the Compound. He had her hand in his and was definitely dragging her, but her high-heeled boots were moving double time and she didn’t appear to be struggling.

Quickly, I scanned the crowd and saw Tyra laughing with Big Petey, her back to the Compound. She still had no clue.

But I also saw Dad, and I knew he had a clue seeing as he was following Hop and Lanie with his eyes, his mouth tight. I knew my dad’s looks and that one didn’t say angry, it said impatient.

My gaze went back to the doors of the Compound to see that Hop and Lanie had disappeared inside.

Them keeping things under wraps confused me. They were both consenting adults, and Lanie wasn’t anyone’s daughter.

But in that moment, I found that I hoped like hell that worked out for them, no matter how, on the face of it, it never could, what with Hop being a rough and ready badass biker and Lanie being chic and sophisticated.

I hoped this because, after all that happened to Lanie, she was still Lanie. Crazy. Fun. But there was something off about her that I found troubling, and I knew Ty-Ty worried about it and even Dad did too.

Also, I didn’t think she’d had one single man since she lost Elliott. Not one. And it had been years. For a woman as beautiful, crazy, fun, not to mention sweet as Lanie, that was sad. She deserved a good man in her life that could make her happy.

And Hop was a good man, no matter the ugliness of his break with Mitzi and that business with BeeBee. I’d known him a long time. I knew he would never go there with Lanie, knowing who she was to Ty-Ty, if he didn’t intend to do right by her.

Further, like good women, good men deserved happiness. So Hop deserved all the crazy, fun, sweet, beauty Lanie could give him.

Staring at the Compound door, I sent invisible good vibes to two people I cared about that they’d find happiness together.

And, of course, that what they were doing wouldn’t tick off Dad and Ty-Ty too much.

“He’s lucky,” Shy muttered, taking my mind off Lanie and Hop, and bringing my attention back to Landon and the biker groupie close in each other’s space, and I mentally agreed. Then Shy’s lips came to my ear. “I’m gonna be lucky in about five minutes too.”

All thoughts of Lanie, Hop, Landon, and his groupie fled, a shiver went over my skin but I turned my head and caught his eye. “You are?”

“Time it takes me to walk you to my room, yeah, I am,” he whispered.

Another shiver, then, “But we haven’t even started raisin’ hell.”

“Somethin’s gonna rise but it won’t be hell.”

I knew that.

It would be paradise.

I grinned.

He bent his head and brushed his lips against mine.

Five minutes later, in his room in the Compound, Shy got lucky.

“At the risk of pissin’ you off, gotta share. More than once in the last five years, laid on my back in this bed, my hand on my dick, thinkin’ of you doin’ what you just did to me.”

That did not, in any way, piss me off.

It turned me on.

I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked down into his green eyes.

“What else did you think of me doin’?” I asked quietly, my legs shifting restlessly.

His eyes went to the ceiling. “Got her off, seconds later, she’s rarin’ to go again.”

“It’s been minutes, Shy,” I pointed out, he aimed his eyes at mine and grinned at me.

Then his grin faded and he declared, “Right, before we tear each other up again, gotta talk to you about something.”

I registered the grin fade, sensed his mood, and therefore melted into him.

“Okay,” I said softly.

“Boys voted. We’re takin’ on the mountains.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Pardon?”

“Expanding Ride, sugar. Boz and Brick went out, scouted locations. Durango or Grand Junction. It’s lookin’ like it’ll probably be Grand Junction. We’re movin’ out of just havin’ places along the Front Range and opening a new shop out west.”

I smiled and cried, “Wow! That’s cool!”

His lips twitched and he replied, “Yeah.”

I studied him. His lips twitched but I got the sense he wasn’t committed to his “yeah.”

So I asked, “What’s on your mind, darlin’?”

Shy didn’t hesitate to share. “Brick, Dog, and Boz are goin’ out next week, makin’ the final decisions on the locations we might buy. They’ll bring the info on the options to the Club, big meeting. All the boys from Fort Fun and C. Springs will come to town, we vote on one, it’s a go. Dog and Brick have already volunteered to up stakes, head out, and oversee start-up. We’ll be findin’ new recruits, gettin’ ’em started, since more boys will be needed when the store is up and running. Bat, Arlo, and Tug have already made it clear they’re good to go out and be part of that team. Leaves us down in numbers, so it’s time to build the Club.”

I nodded.

Shy kept talking.

“Brick and Dog both say already they wanna stay in the mountains for a while, change of scenery.”

“Right,” I prompted.

“That means Tack’s losin’ his lieutenants.”

My heart flipped.

“Right,” I said again but this time slowly.

“Deal’s done. Those two brothers are goin’ and gonna be gone at least a year, probably more. So Tack is makin’ decisions. He asked Hop to step up when they go.”

My shoulders drooped.

“He also asked me,” Shy finished.

My face split into a grin, Shy’s eyes dropped to my mouth then he rolled me so I was on my back and he was up on a forearm, looming over me but bent so our faces were close.

His other hand framed the side of my head and his thumb slid along my hairline when he muttered, “Don’t get excited, babe.”

“But that’s cool. That’s respect. That’s an honor, Shy.”

“Yeah. It is,” he agreed. “But you gotta get that, for you, that also means I might not be around as much. It isn’t like Dog and Brick are called to duty daily, but they got extra shit to do the other brothers do not.”

“Okay.” Again I said this slowly and when he didn’t speak, I asked, “What aren’t you saying, honey?”

“Not sure I wanna do it.”

I blinked.

Then I asked, “What?” I paused, but before he could speak I asked, “Why?”

He sighed, looked at my throat, then looked back at me as his hand drifted down to curl around the side of my neck. “My commitment to the Club is there. My commitment to the brothers…”

He let that hang and didn’t go on but my stomach tied in a knot.

“Really?” I asked quietly.

“Really,” he answered firmly.

The knot in my stomach twisted.

“Are you thinking of leaving the Club?” I forced out.

“Absolutely not.”

Well thank God for that.

“Okay, then, why?” I queried. “Why are you questioning your commitment to the men?”

He shook his head and looked at the pillow beside mine. “Thought I could, couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?”

He looked back at me. “Do not wanna drag you over old ground when shit is good, babe, but not one of them took my back when it went down and they found out about you and me. They made their calls, they patched things over, but I didn’t forget it, and I find they want more of me, I’m thinkin’ they gotta prove respect before I give it back.”

I beat back the urge to lick my lip before I asked, “Do you have issues with Dad?”

He shook his head. “Fuck no.”

At least that was firm.

Shy kept talking. “He had his reason and it was a good one. Them, parts of it I see, parts of it I don’t. Not one of them spoke up for me. That went down, I wasn’t a recruit. It wasn’t like I’d been in the Club two years, three, but near on a decade. They knew me and no one spoke for me?”

He shook his head but went on.

“Gotta say, your dad feelin’ that for me, thinkin’ I got what it takes to handle shit for the Club in his stead when he calls on me, speakin’ for him, the Club when they need me, that’s tight. I like it. That’s a tribute I didn’t expect, not at my age. I know the history with him and High. High seriously butted up against him when Tack was tryin’ to clean up the Club. Luckily, that shit got sorted but I know Tack didn’t forget, so I know why he doesn’t go there when High’s got more time in with the Club than me. I know Hound can go off on one, doesn’t have the disposition for diplomacy. Still, he could stick with Hop, have only one man he calls on and he called me up. I like that. But I’m thinkin’ I need more time with the brothers, I need it to feel solid again before I give more back.”

“Okay, then take your time,” I agreed and his head gave a slight jerk.

“Say again?”

“I feel you,” I told him. “It’s not like you’re being a dick. You’re being real. You’re right, that was uncool. Hop spoke for you when you came forward to recruit. He’s also totally nailing Lanie, still, and, by the way, Dad saw them going at it by the garage, so that cat’s gonna be out of the bag soon. So he knows the shoes you were standing in. Roscoe and Tug did their time at your side, not one of those three put words forward for you when they all should, Hop especially. If you need to feel more solid, do it. Take your time. If Dad chooses another lieutenant, High isn’t trustworthy, Hound is possibly clinically insane, Dad may soon be looking to fill those motorcycle boots and Chaos will feel it if those men don’t represent their brothers well. When it’s your time again, they’ll be ready for you, but you need to be ready to give it to them.”

He studied me a beat before asking softly, “You’re not ticked I’m turnin’ down your dad?”

“It’s your time, your life, your standing with your brothers, honey. Your decision. My job is to stand by it, not get ticked about it.”

He studied me for five beats before he whispered, “Fuck, but I love you, Tabby.”

I grinned. “Good, darlin’. That works for me since I love you too.”

Shy did not grin. His thumb moved out to stroke my jaw as his eyes burned into mine.

I lifted a hand, curled it around his wrist, let him have his moment, and enjoyed the warmth he was giving me.

Then he was done with his moment, his brows went up, and he asked, “Tack saw Hopper and Lanie?”

I smiled and answered, “Yep.”

“Brace, baby,” he muttered.

“I guessed that,” I told him.

“No, brace. Cherry knows about Hop and BeeBee. Apparently, Cherry actually saw them doin’ the deed, which is somethin’ I do not wanna picture.”

I curled my lip in disgust because it was something I didn’t want to picture either.

Shy continued, “Cherry doesn’t know Hop and Mitzi were on a break, but I don’t think she’d care. Hop had a chat with her and she and him have moved past that, but that doesn’t mean she’s gonna be big on him bangin’ her best friend, who happens to be the woman who took bullets for her dead old man.”

Well, that might explain why they were keeping things under wraps.

Shy kept going, “Until tonight, Hop has managed to keep this from Tack and Cherry, but most of the boys know, they’re talkin’, and they’re bettin’. The odds are with Cherry losin’ her mind not only with Hop, but with Lanie for makin’ what she thinks is another poor choice.”

My head tipped on the pillow. “Did you place a bet?”

“Fuck no. Lanie is beautiful but she’s a fuckin’ nut. There’s no guarantees with her in the mix, and Hop’s not sayin’ it, but he’s gone for her. I caught sight of them late one night standin’ by his bike and I can’t say I’m an expert at readin’ bitches but, body language, she’s gone for him too. Cherry or Tack get in his face, Cherry butts up against Lanie, there’s gonna be fireworks.”

“Well, we’re old hands at that,” I muttered, and Shy grinned.

“Bet it’s more fun observing,” he muttered back.

I was not going to take that bet because I knew he was right.

“He’s gone for her?” I asked quietly.

“Had a dad who loved his wife. See what Tack has with Cherry. Dog and Sheila. Feel what I have with you. When they’re together and not yellin’ at each other, that’s what I see.”

I felt my chest get warm.

There it was, maybe they didn’t need my invisible vibes. If Hop was “gone” for Lanie, he’d do right by her.

Or at least I hoped so.

“I like that for Lanie,” I told Shy.

“And I like it for Hop, baby. Mitzi was a bitch. Lanie’ll keep him on his toes, but if they have those tender times, it’s worth it.”

It so was.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he quietly repeated after me.

I slid my hand down his back. “So, if we’re done talking, are you gonna tell me what you thought of me doing while you were lyin’ in this bed?”

His face got dark as it got closer.

“Definitely.”

I tightened my arm around him, using it to press my body up into his, and I whispered, “How about you show me what you did while you tell me?”

His eyes flared, his mouth moved to mine, and he replied, “My girl wants it like that, that’s what she’ll get.”

Awesome. I not only wanted it like that, I… couldn’t… wait.

“Though, sugar, I’m ready for you to climb on, you swing astride me. I’m finishing in you,” he ordered.

I grinned against his mouth.

I could do that.