Page 6 of Pickle
“All good, brother. You know that.”Hyram claps his MC brother on the shoulder as the enormous man passes by on his way out of the kitchen. There’s definitely something going on there, but I’m pretty sure it’s none of my business.
“Don’t mind Malachi,”Hyram says softly. “He’s a good guy. Got his bell rung while in the military a while back, but he’s solid when it counts.”
It’ssweet of Hyram to offer an explanation. None of my business, but sweet. However, I guess it serves the purpose of letting me know, if a situation arises, I can rely on the guy to be a help instead of a hindrance. Hyram’s been like that since we met, providing me what I need to effectively do my job, though it’ll likely be unnecessary.
I mean,what are the chances the Darrow boys fail to deal with the threat? Even more, what are the chances the dude actually figures out where Arlo stashed his wife and daughter. Least plausible is, the guy shows up and slips past Hyram. So yeah, I’m well aware my presence is mostly window dressing. I get it. Frankie and Teeny deserve to be shadowed by another woman. It frees up her brother to take the role of surveillancewithout the weirdness of having a man, who isn’t her husband, stuck to her like glue.
“Got it.Should I be prepared for any other guys I haven’t met popping up?” I ask.
Hyram’s eyes narrow,and a muscle ticks in his jaw. Oooh, he doesn’t like me asking about other men. Jealousy is usually a red flag I steer way clear of, and unease tickles along the edge of the chemistry that always simmers when we’re together. Dominance in the bedroom is hot, but a man getting all weird and territorial anywhere else in my life is a hard pass. Breath stalls in my chest as I wait for him to speak.
“You’ve met them all,I think. They all know you’re with me to protect Frankie and Teens. None of them have been hassling you about being around, have they? Some of them…” He trails off, the hard glint in his eyes softening a bit.
“Some of them, what?”I prompt.
“Aren’t great with people.Especially new ones. You’ll tell me if anyone is an asshole, yeah?” His demand diffuses the tension building inside me, the worry that I’d misjudged him and somehow found myself attracted to a mouth-breathing misogynist.
“Everyone’s been super nice.”I assure him. “Even what’s his name…the Russian guy, the one who’s with Malik?”
That guy’sa little on the scary side, if I’m honest. There’s an intensity in his eyes I’d normally find unsettling enough to avoid like the plague. He’s smaller than his partner, physically, but one glimpse into the duo’s dynamic is all it takes to see a level of obsessed devotion I’d be terrified to have directed at me. Malik glows under it though, and that makes it impossible to hold on to my misgivings about the guy.
“That’s Rurik.He’s not MC, but he’s…adjacent. Of a sort. If you run into trouble, and I’m not here, find them.”
“You going somewhere?”I ask. Hyram’s been a little skimpy on the details of what’s going on in the search for Mitchell Vance, the suspiciously widowed creeper who’d been hitting on Frankie for weeks. I get it, really I do.
The Ghost Born MCclubhouse might not be the stuff of Hollywood stereotype, but I’m not foolish enough to expect they’re as innocent as it seems. Just because the guys have all been nice to me since I got here, it doesn’t blind me to the aura of leashed violence palpable in the air. Between that and the lust that chokes me whenever I’m near Hyram, it’s a wonder I’m managing to get any oxygen to my brain at all.
“Definitely not going anywhere,Spitfire. But it pays to make sure you know who to go to if an emergency arises.” When Hyram calls me Spitfire, it feels as if he really sees me. Sees me and isn’t intimidated the way lots of guys are. I never realized feeling seen would be such a turn on. But it is. It so is.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Pickle
“Yeah, nope. Don’t like that idea.” Thyrie’s adamant head shake punctuates her confusing comment. She’s so capable and independent it takes longer than it probably should for her meaning to sink in. She’s not upset at my suggestion she could get help from one of the brothers. She doesn’t want me to be away from her. The past few days, I’ve been battling an internal war to keep from pulling her into my arms and making her mine. Mark my words, I will be doing that. Just not while she’s busy watching over her charges.
DoI want to kick my ass for hiring her to watch over Frank and Teens? Fuck, yeah, I do. She’s a consummate professional, taking their safety as seriously as though my sister is the Hope Diamond. I knew I wanted to dick down Thyrie ’til she couldn’t walk straight even before we officially met. But watching how thorough she is in her duty, especially considering it’s to protect my family, I can’t help but fall even harder for her.
“I don’t planon it. Face it, you’re stuck with me, Spitfire.”
“Guessthat means you can carry these upstairs for me, since that’s where I’m headed.” She hands me the bottles of water before diving back into the industrial-size fridge. With as many big ass men as we have around here, the thing’s always loaded to the max with everything any of us could want. Including the lemon pudding I’d learned is Thyrie’s favorite.
“Behind the pastasalad Nolan’s got chilling for dinner tonight. I hid the bowl so Malachi would keep his hands off it,” I say.
“How’dyou guess that’s what I’m looking for?” she asks over her shoulder, still shuffling around the inside of the fridge.
“I pay attention,”I state simply. Because I do. I want to know everything about her. I want to be the one providing for her every wish, even the ones that haven’t yet fully formed in her brain. I’ve been soaking in each detail like a plant arching into the sun’s path through a garden. Fuck, that’s some sappy shit. Good thing I’m capable of keeping my inside thoughts inside, unlike some of the loudmouths around here.
“Ah, a voyeur,”she quips, her lush lips quirking into a smile sultry enough to have my neglected cock thickening down the leg of my jeans. It’s been impossible to keep the unruly thing contained since I laid eyes on her. At this point, I’m relying on tight athletic boxers and untucked shirts to keep from embarrassing myself around everyone in the house.
“For you?Without shame or denial. That a problem?” I know it’s not. She likes my eyes on her. She gets a little smile when she notices me staring and a wiggle in her hips when I’m walking down the hallway behind her.
“Ever gonna make a move,or just watch the whole time I’m here?” That’s a pout if I’ve ever seen one.
“Waiting on the green light,Spitfire. You just say the word, and I’ll show you how much watching has prepared me to please you in ways you can’t even imagine.”
“Confident. I like that. Prove it.”She lifts her chin in challenge, giving me exactly the right angle to lean in and capture her lips under mine. Thyrie takes my kiss and meets it with her own. Our tongues tangle, moving from the sweet recess of her mouth back into mine in a smooth dance that has blood thundering into my dick from every vein in my body.
Her hands wraparound my neck while mine go to her hips, boosting her up onto the kitchen counter. I step between her parted knees, pressing my groin into the heated cradle where her thighs meet. I know she can feel exactly how hard she makes me. I want her to know. My right hand coasts along her waist, searching for the hem of her fitted T-shirt. The need to feel her skin under my fingertips is quickly becoming as necessary as breathing. Warm silk over toned muscle greets me as I finally wiggle under the edge of her shirt. Thyrie arches her body into me when I skim my hand up her back to the clasp of her bra strap.
