“I know I don’t know you, but I was sorry to hear about your mom. I lost mine when I was a kid, and it still haunts me now.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure I had quite a different relationship with mine than you did with yours.”
“Were you not close?” A split-second later I spit out, “I’m so sorry, that is none of my business. Please forget I ever asked.”
She stares at me for a long minute and then laughs. “I’d forgotten what it was like to be around people who recognise boundaries. Don’t worry, no offence was taken.”
I glance back at the prospect, and he’s still sat on ass on his fucking phone. I should give Harper my full attention. I want to be on friendly terms with the old ladies once Shane officially makes me his old lady but the need to see Shane return is more powerful.
I can see it, the prospect will open the gates and Shane will ride in. He’ll see me sitting here and smile. He’ll park his motorcycle and stride toward me with lust in his eyes and a mind of dirty plans for the two of us. He’ll kiss me like it’s our first and last time. He won’t care who’s around to see us. I’ll giggle and wrap my arms around him…
The prospect jumps up and my fantasy is gone. He slides the gates open. Leo is the first to ride in, followed by JJ.
“Why is my husband bleeding?” Harper groans.
I check him out and true to word, blood stains his jeans across his thigh. She pulls herself up and I watch on for Shane. A van is the last in and the prospect closes the gates.
Where is he?
I check over the men and Shane is definitely not with them. The pounding beat of my heart drowns out the noise around me. I stand as Harper walks over to her husband and that’s when I see Shane. He shuffles out the back of the van, holding his arm.
I go to go over to him but stop. Leo walks over to him, says something and then the prospect is opening the gates again. A car drives in and the gates are closed again.
A guy with a medical bag gets out and heads toward Shane. JJ still sits on his bike. The doctor guy looks over Shane’s arm then JJ’s leg. He must deem Shane to be in worser condition. He leads him into the bar. I’m stood right here but I might as well have been invisible.
JJ limps by me next with Harper at his side. When the brothers have entered the bar, I walk in and stay by the door. It feels like forever and no time at all that he fixes up Shane’s arm. Excitement laced with fear courses through me. He could have been shot dead today and I never would have had the chance to be happy. The fact he isn’t dead and is rising to his feet has me biting down on my bottom lip. A few stitches and a bandage and he’s right as rain, breathing, and making me horny.
“It’s just a scratch,” the doctor guy mumbles.
“A scratch? Prez, you hear this?” Shane snaps. “A fuckin’ scratch, he says.”
“A big scratch?” the doctor guy adds.
Leo’s laughter is manic. I don’t know what has happened today to put him such on edge, but I look away and JJ is taking Shane’s place.
Harper waits till he is comfortable and slaps him around the back of his head. JJ glares up at her. “What the fuck, babe?”
“What did you get yourself shot for? You think I don’t have enough going on?”
He rolls his eyes and then flinches when she goes to slap him again.
While the doctor guy works on his thigh, JJ grabs Harper’s hand and turns it over to lay a kiss on her palm. “It’s not like I planned it.”
He pulls her to his side, and she leans over to kiss him. Jealousy ripples through me at the sight. I glance over at Shane and he’s staring my way.
He juts his chin, wanting me to go to him but I shake my head, and he comes to me. He’s the one who ignored me on his way in. Harper doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who has to chase her husband down.
“Let’s go outside,” he suggests.
My head is spinning. He could have been killed today and I would have been left all alone. I would’ve had to start over again. I squeeze my eyes shut, to shut out the repetitive thoughts.
We sit at the picnic table, and he lights a cigarette while wincing using his arm.
“I expected you to panic when I got back, you know, at the blood,” he says, exhaling a long stream of smoke.
I dare to look at him as I ask, “Do I have the right to panic in public when you’re shot?”
This stumps him and he narrows his eyes. His cheeks suck in as he inhales on the cigarette. The wait for his reply is agonising, long enough that I take the lead.
