I just nod because what the hell am I supposed to say to that?Yeah, totally. Super shitty since I’m holding the cremains of an asshole that hurt that couple’s son, but I’m really happy I got to see you again, and that’s because I can’t stop thinking about you regardless of those shitty circumstances too.
Somehow, I don’t think any of that is appropriate right now.
“Ah yes, Sofie, here.” My father motions toward me as I slip into his office and close the door. “I don’t think you were formally introduced the other night, but it’s important for you to do that now.”
No,I’d like to introduce youorI’d like for you to meetand that means these two men before me now are most likely Hamish MacAllister’s sons and the biggest of big players in this rather deadly game.
“Tavish MacAllister, lass.” The one on the left with blue-green eyes and deep chestnut brown hair grins through his beard as he extends his hand. “Ye can call me Mac, and dis is me brudder, Angus.” He nods to the one on my right with dark strawberry-blonde hair and matching eyes as he does the same.
“Sofie Berk.”
Wow, these men are huge. Not quite as big as their sons outside, but damn near close, and they look super scary with the wrinkles and beards, all the leather and long hair. They aren’t scary though. Not to me anyway. They probably should be, but I can see the warmth in their eyes, can practically feel it resonating off of them, and if I didn’t know they were hardened criminals waiting on their murdered father’s remains, I probably would have just thought they lived a rough life and liked riding motorcycles.
My father stands and rounds his desk. “So you’re aware, since you are now involved, Tank and Gunner run the Wulven Kings MC. Tank is their president and— “
“I’m the VP, yada yada. Don’t hafta scare da poor ting, Roland. I tink she knows who calls the shots at this point and I doubt we’re gonna have no trouble wit dis one.” Angus rolls his eyes. “And yer girl can call us Mac and Gus just like da rest of da bonny lassies.”
Woo, if only I were twenty years older.
I could listen to these Scottish accents all day.
But, with my eyes closed.
Mac and Gus are warm and friendly, and they definitely have charm, but they aren’t exactly my cup of tea. Neither are their sons for that matter, even though I can totally see the appeal in both.
I prefer fire engine-red redheads with freckles and…
“Sofie?”
I blink and look around at the three very expectant faces staring back at me. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?”
“Sofie…” My father sighs. “I was just telling Tank and Gunner that you’re a few months away from finishing up your degree early and would most likely be assisting me on calls from the club more often.”
“No shit?” As soon as the words are out, I cringe.
Oops.
“Aye, no shite, lass.” Mac chuckles. “And we’re happy to have ye.”
“Aye.” Gus nods. “Ye handled yerself like a seasoned pro, ye did. Didna take any shite from da boys and dished it right back. Didna flinch at the mess ye walked into. My Trudy will like ye, she will.”
“Thank you?”
The brothers laugh as my father turns about thirty shades of purple. He’s going to blow his top over this, and that leads me to believe they were probably discussing my involvement with the club before I got here. I had a feeling I was in it before, but I know I am for a fact now. I’d even be willing to bet that I wind up with a couple of Scots on speed dial after this.
“Now thatthat’ssorted.” Dad grunts as he shoves his glasses up his nose. “Sofie, if you’ll hand over the cremains, you and Harlow can close up for the night.”
“Harlow?” Mac arches a reddish-brown brown. “Another lass we need ta vet, Roland?”
“Not unless you want a makeover.” I snort. My father shoots me a dirty look and I shrug. “What? Harlow isn’t exactly going to be working on anyone these guys know.“
Gus grins just like the dirty Viking. “Ye never know, lass. Mac here would look real bonny wit some face paint.”
I giggle and shake my head. “You two are perfect without all that gunk. Besides, Harlow specializes in making the dead look pretty, and after what I saw, you seem to specialize in the opposite.”
“That we do, lass.” Mac’s gaze drops to the box in my hands and for a split second, I see remorse flicker in his blue-green eyes.
Shit.
