****
The meeting was supposedto be important.
Gunner sat at the long, scarred wooden table in the Iron Sentinels’ clubhouse, his arms crossed as Beast went over the latest shipment details. The room was packed with the club’s highest-ranking members—men who had spent years building their reputation and running their business with ruthless efficiency.
Deals with suppliers, territorial disputes, and potential alliances were all on the table tonight, and Gunner knew he needed to be present, to focus. But his damn mind kept drifting.
Dawn.
He should’ve waited at least a day before calling her. Hell, he wasn’t the kind of guy who got hung up on a woman after one night of easy conversation and a few teasing glances.
But Dawn wasn’t like anyone he’d met before. Something about her had a hold on him, and no matter how much he told himself to shove it aside, his thoughts kept circling back to her.
“You listening, Gunner?” Beast’s gruff voice cut through his distraction.
Gunner blinked, his gaze snapping to his president. Beast didn’t look pissed, but there was a knowing glint in his eye, like he had already figured out where Gunner’s head was. The man had been his best friend for years, and he could read him better than anyone.
“Yeah,” Gunner said, sitting forward and forcing himself to focus. “Shipment’s coming in next month. Razor says he’s got the logistics covered on his end, and we’ll handle our part like always.”
Beast grunted. “You seem real interested in this conversation.”
A few of the other guys smirked, but Gunner didn’t give a damn. He knew what was coming.
“You got somethin’ else on your mind?” Beast leaned back in his chair, watching him closely. “Or maybe someone?”
Gunner exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It’s nothin’.”
Beast didn’t believe that for a second, but he let it slide. For now.
The meeting wrapped up not long after, and Gunner left the main room, heading toward his quarters in the back of the clubhouse.
His space was simple—a bed, a dresser, and a couple of personal items. He wasn’t one for unnecessary clutter. Most nights, he didn’t give a damn where he slept as long as he had a place to lay his head after a long day of business. But tonight, sleep wasn’t happening anytime soon.
Running a hand over his beard, he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling out his phone. He hesitated for only a second before scrolling to her number, freshly added from earlier that day. He had planned to wait. Maybe give it another night, let her sit with the idea of them.
Fuck it. He pressed “call.” The line rang once. Twice. On the third, she picked up.
“Hello?”
Gunner grinned at the sound of her familiar voice—soft, slightly wary, and undeniably tempting.
“It’s me,” he said, his voice rougher than intended.
A pause. Then, “Gunner?”
Hearing his name on her lips did something to him. Something he wasn’t ready to unpack.
“You busy?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Not really.”
“Good,” he said. “I was thinkin’ about you.”
Silence. He could practically hear her breath hitch on the other end.
“Oh,” she finally murmured. “That so?”
He chuckled, leaning back against the headboard. “Yeah. Figured I’d ask you out, see if you’re free tomorrow night.”
