Throne of Scars (Lost Kings MC 20)

It meant the brothers accepted and welcomed him as their president. At least, that’s how I interpret the gesture. That should be a good sign that things have changed down here.

“Here.” Lilly hands me two stretchy bracelets with a small fob dangling from each one. “You have to put it next to the door and it will unlock. If not, let me know.”

I slip one of the bracelets over my wrist. “Thank you.”

As I turn to leave, Lilly grips my arm. “I’m glad you’re here, Serena.”

“I’ll come help out after—”

“No, no.” She shakes her head so vigorously, her long, glossy black hair swishes around her shoulders. “This weekend is supposed to be a welcome home party for Grinder and to celebrate him patching you. Spend time with your man. There will always be plenty of stuff to do another time.”

Adjust your mindset from club girl to ol’ lady, she seems to be saying. Or maybe that’s in my head. “Thanks.”

Gathering my confidence, I return to the main room. Grayson’s dark expression lightens as our eyes meet.

“There you are.” He curls his hand around mine.

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Still too long,” he murmurs against my ear.

My heart flutters. I hold up the room key. “All set. Lilly says we’re somewhere near Wrath and Rooster.”

Jigsaw jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “That way. Past the presidential suite and before the stairwell.”

We have to pass Shadow’s old room but I keep my eyes straight ahead. Everything has changed so much, it’s easy to pretend I’m somewhere new.

“Are you okay?” Gray’s low voice is full of concern.

“Yes. It’s wild how different a place can look after a little remodeling.” My way of telling him I’m not reliving my club girl days without saying the actual words.

“Which way?” He nods to the fork in the hallway.

“Uh, left, I think.” When they remodeled, the guys took down whatever old signs were left from the clubhouse’s hotel days and didn’t replace them. Makes it easier to get lost, which was probably their intention.

A distinctive rattling-thump fills the hallway. I shake my head, not wanting to guess which couple the sounds belong to. Gray side-eyes me.

“Lilly said it should be quiet down here.”

“Uh-huh.”

“This is it.” I hold up my bracelet-key-fob gizmo, then press it to the pad on the door. A green light flickers and the lock clicks. “That’s a nice improvement.”

Gray pushes the door open and flicks the overhead light on. “Well, damn.”

“Oh, wow.”

The king-sized bed is neatly made up with crisp gray and blue bedding. The few pieces of modern furniture appear unused. A huge flat-screen television is mounted to the wall. I set my bag on the long dresser taking up the space under the television and wander toward the bathroom.

“It has a whirlpool tub!”

“Nicer than any hotel I ever stayed at.” Gray rests his hands on my shoulder and I tip my head back so I can see his face.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He rolls his shoulder. The slight tightening of his jaw tells me he’s in more pain than he wants to tell me. “Been a long time since I’ve ridden. Probably shouldn’t have started with such a long ride first go-around.”

“Well, I was worried that might happen. I brought stuff to take care of you. Take your shirt off for me.”

I push past him and head for my bag.

“You did what?” he asks, following me across the room.

“I was worried about your shoulder acting up.” I paw through all my tightly packed items, unrolling the dress I want to wear later and dropping a pair of shoes on the floor.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I knew you’d ride anyway.” I find my property patch and unroll that, spreading it out on the dresser.

“Sorry you couldn’t wear it on the way down,” he says, staring at the leather.

“Not your fault. As long as I don’t get in trouble for packing it away.”

He chuckles, low and rough. “No, buttercup. You mind if I shower before you start working your magic on me?”

“Nope. The hot water will do you good. Loosen you up a little.”

“Will you join me?”

“Of course.”

The warm spray rinses off the long, dusty ride. After our quick shower, I find two robes on the back of the door. They appear brand new. I snap off one of the tags and slip it on.

“They do this for us or is it standard practice in all the rooms?” Gray asks, staring at the dark blue terry cloth.

“I’m not sure.” I turn toward the sink and grab the small packets of cream I brought. “You won’t need it. I want you naked anyway.”

He chuckles and follows, hooking his finger in the belt of my robe and yanking me backward. “Same, buttercup,” he whispers against my ear.

“No, no, no,” I scold. “This is a professional matter.”