Her response has me huffing a bit, making my lips smile of their own accord. I already knew as much, but it’s nice to confirm being right. “Figured. Wasted breath.” I turn around and lean back on the counter as I look her over again. For someone who was up half the night, she doesn’t look that bad.
Last night didn’t go as planned. Not even the second or third plan I’d created in my head. The first was to get laid by a vamp to release some pent-up frustration. I knew it was going to take a while, mostly because Milly being nearby made things difficult to think about. Well, that isn’t true. I thought about her, and her alone. Which is the problem. I don’t do complication, and all of this is a complication. So a night out, the kid at a friend’s house and Milly being watched by my brothers while I got my dick wet, was a brilliant plan A. Till plan B occurred, which was to blow off the obstacle and just go after what I really want. That worked after getting her off in the hall, but then plan C came into play due to what was going on with Ollie. But that didn’t go as planned either, since I’d hoped that us caring for her kid and showing our concern would somehow open her up. But from the look on her face,and her words, one night of putting him first isn’t going to win us any medals in her eyes.
She chuckles, and I raise my eyebrow in response. “What?”
“That’s something I would say.” She shrugs, a small smile on her lips.
And despite our similarities, there’s still no trust. I’m getting a little tired of this back-and-forth. Especially since I’m the one getting fucked over. This was meant to be a seven-day gig. However, till the club learns something more, something useful, my hope of only a week as a babysitter is doomed. And despite our little tryst at the clubhouse, I still haven’t gotten off by more than my own hand in months.
She walks over with a shake of her head, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “If you think guilting me will work, it won’t.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh as she pours herself a cup. We might have gotten home before midnight, but I know I didn’t go to bed right away. Too wound up from the night’s events, and not just what went down with the kid. I know she slept with him in his room, or at least tried to. From the amount of crying, I doubt either got a wink of sleep before 4:00 a.m. Probably why it’s now after noon and she’s just rousing from Ollie’s room.
“Think I already got the memo. You’re stubborn, Yank.”
“It’s Brooklyn.” She says it so fast, I doubt she even expected her retort, especially with the way her eyes widen a bit as she takes a drink from her mug.
I smirk, saying, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” before I take my ownsip.
We stand in silence as we drink our caffeine, and I’m jolted because this doesn’t feel strained. There isn’t an awkwardness about it. Sure, we still have a ton of unsaid things between us, but we seem to be able to live in the middle of everything. Or at least cohabitate without drawing blood. For now.
“What’s the plan?” She washes out her mug and sets it in the sink, then walks to the other side of the island to sit at the counter.
“Well….” I set my coffee down and place my hands on the counter as I look around. “Figured I’d stick around here for a few more years, do some light traveling in the offseason. Maybe do a bike tour up through Canada and then head to the tip of South America.”
The look on her face is priceless, even when she ends up glaring at me. “For today, asshole, not your life plan.”
“You didn’t specify,” I say with a shrug.
She just glares with a look of frustration on her face, making me smile.
“Family barbeque at the club. We’re going.”
“We’re not family,” she deadpans.
I shake my head as I turn back, rinsing my cup. “Never said you were, but as you like to describe it, you’re my prisoners. If I go, you go. And I’m going.” I turn back to give her a pointed look.
She presses her lips together but stands. “Fine.”
I think I might die from shock.
She returns to Ollie’s room and shuts the door. I can only assume they’re getting ready, so I go about doing the same.
“This aregular thing or a special occasion?” Milly asks as we get out of the truck, followed by Ollie. Kid hasn’t said much today, but he smiled at me, so I’m taking it as a win. I might push her, but I won’t force him. He’s obviously been through enough shit for a lifetime. No need to add to his trauma.
I stretch and then shut my door. I miss my bike, the freedom it gives me and the way it can wake me up with the wind in my face that isn’t replaceable by rolling down a window. I sigh heavily, as I know that getting my bike under me isn’t going to happen for a while, unless I plan to do a dump-and-run. Which, from the itch I’m getting now that I’m thinking about, might be sooner rather than later. The club can play babysitter for a few solid hours while I get a buzz off my bike. Might even get laid while I’m out.
Doubtful. As much as I want to feel the heat beyond my own hand wrapped around my dick, I can still taste her. I close my eyes and can hear her moans. My scalp still tingles from where she pulled my hair. Surprisingly, no one’s ever done that before. Probably because I’m usually holding their arms to the bed or having them prop themselves up as I take their ass. It felt good, the pain of it. I get what I put a woman through now, and I fucking crave it again. Being rough with a woman is hot, but having one give as much as she took was an experience on another level.
I scratch at my chin as I think over her question. “We have them, but nothing like on a set day and time each month. We usually just get a text from the boss either the daybefore or the day of and show up if we got nothing else going on. Most of us make it, but sometimes a few of us don’t get out.”
“When did you get the invite for this one?”
“About five minutes before you woke up.”
I hold the door open, letting them in first before I follow. There was only the prospect on the gate out in the parking lot, which isn’t abnormal, but it’s not usual. We have so many brothers that having a few smoking out front is the usual greeting I expect.
As I shut the door, I’m bombarded by yells of “Happy birthday.” I don’t startle—I’ve had years of training not to—as I take in the way the club has transformed in the last twelve hours. Balloons and “happy birthday” banners everywhere. If Minecraft and Pokémon had a baby that threw up, this is where the mess would be. And standing right in the middle is a grinning Mama Bear, shining with happiness for putting together what no doubt was a surprise party for Ollie.
