Keeping my eyes on her, I rough a towel over my head and wrap another one around my hips.
“This will only take a minute,” she says over her shoulder.
Stepping behind her, I curl my arm around her waist and kiss her damp shoulder. “A lot of work taking care of all that pretty hair.”
In the mirror, she blinks and stares at me as if I’d threatened to shear her head bald.
“I like watching you.” I tease my fingers through the wet ends, already drying into gentle waves. “And I love your hair. It’s beautiful.” I kiss her shoulder again. “Really like how the ends tickle my legs when you’re riding my dick.”
“Oh my God.” Surprised laughter bubbles past her lips.
My gaze lands on a colorful jar on the counter. The stuff we’d bought earlier with the ridiculous name. “What is that?” I tap the top.
Her cheeks flush. “It’s probably silly but I read it’s supposed to be really good to protect my belly from getting stretch marks.” She flips her towel open and rubs her hand over her stomach.
“You’re not even showing yet.”
“So? I thought I’d start early.”
Love how much thought she’s putting into this. It was unexpected and maybe not the best time but she’s taking it so well. I curl my arms around her middle and squeeze. “Thank you.”
“For having you buy me belly butter?”
I’m too choked up to laugh, so I hold her tighter instead. “No.”
When I’m sure I won’t blubber like a baby, I unhook her towel the rest of the way and dab it over her back and legs.
“Come on.”
She wraps another towel around her and follows me to the bedroom. I slide open a drawer and pull out a T-shirt.
“Don’t steal this one,” I tease.
“I’m sorry. I’ll give you the other one back.”
“I’m kidding, buttercup. Take everything of mine you want.” I hold up the shirt. “Arms up.”
She lifts her arms and lets me drape the shirt over her, then fluffs her wet hair and yawns.
“You want to give Emily a call and let her know you’re staying over?”
Serena blinks up at me. “Am I staying?”
“I’d like you to.”
“All right.”
“I’d like you to come up to the clubhouse with me tomorrow, too.”
Her gaze slips to the side. “Are you sure?”
I hate the note of fear returning to her voice. “Yes, I’m sure.”
While today might have fixed some issues between us, how she feels about my club is a different story. That trust was broken long before we even met.
Am I a greedy fucker for wanting all the facets of my life to coexist peacefully? A family of my own and my MC family?
What’s broken can be fixed. I just have to figure out how.
Chapter Seventeen
Grinder
Asking anyone for permission to do anything always irritated the piss out of me. Bikers are known for not giving a fuck. They do what they want, when they want, and fuck the consequences. After spending time in prison, I was convinced that the bikers who advocate that “fuck the law” lifestyle had never seen the inside of a cell. All that blustering big talk means shit once your freedom’s taken away.
So, as much as it stings my pride, the next time I visit my new parole officer, I have a question for her.
I don’t have to wait long this time. She greets me and takes me into her office quickly. After the same general questions she asks if I need anything, and I seize the opportunity like a panther pouncing on a rabbit.
“Somewhere in my paperwork, I saw something about permission for family trips. How’s that work?”
She raises her eyebrows. “You have somewhere you need to go?”
Yes. Anywhere.
“Not need.” I shrug but I’ve never been good at the bumbling aw, shucks method of getting my way. “I want to take my girlfriend away for a three-day weekend or something. Not out of state. Just a short getaway.”
She drums her nails over her desk, the sound like irritating nails being pounded into my fuck-off coffin. “You’re dating?”
“Uh, yeah.” Surprised Grillo hadn’t stuck that in my file since he’d been so obsessed with Serena.
“How is that going?”
Peachy, we’re having a baby we didn’t expect or plan for.
“Good.” No reason to give her details she doesn’t need.
Her serious expression remains. “I ask because dating and all that comes with it can be a difficult adjustment after such a long sentence.”
Her tone is casual, not cruel or condescending. Unusual from what I’ve encountered in the system. “You’re right. I still feel a little feral at times. But she’s patient with me. My biggest challenge has been how much technology and stuff has changed, though.” Although, figuring Serena out hasn’t been easy either, but at least she’s a pleasant challenge.
“A lot of my clients struggle with technology.” She gives me what almost looks like a sympathetic smile. “I struggle with it myself some days. I need my teenager to program my phone for me.”