“I’m just going to say I’m not going to feel bad for any of those poor suckers who got in the way of a bullet tonight.”
I nod agreement. “No injuries in our club then?”
“Hawk bruised his hand punching some bastard too hard, but that’s the worst of it.”
“That’s the most Hawk way he could have injured himself.”
“Some bandages and some ice, and he’ll be breaking his hand on someone else’s skull in no time.”
I nod along as I grab a bottle of water for Baylee. “I trust the boys will be on their best behavior with the girls.”
“You know the rules, Blaze. We got a zero-tolerance policy for bullshit. Women are our wives, our sisters, our mothers, our daughters. Unless one is trying to murder you, you show the proper fucking respect.”
I grunt. It’s not just talk. We’ve kicked out a few guys who were caught battering their old ladies.
Water in hand, I swing by the kitchen to grab some food for both of us. Then I head back to my room.
I walk in to see Baylee fresh out of the shower, presently covered in my oversized robe, her hair wet and slick. Despite showing zero skin, I can’t help but feel my cock swell a bit when I see her, knowing that her naked flesh is touching my robe. Is it too much to hope that maybe soon I’ll be pressed against her flesh too?
“Brought us both a burger, and I got you onion rings. Figured the latter would feed you if you were a vegetarian or something.”
“Oh, um, thank you,” she says, smiling nervously at me. Even an uncertain one like that tickles me just right. “Right now I don’t care about anything like that, I think I could eat an entire cow.”
“Would like to see that,” I chuckle. I place the bag of food on a small table. Greg, the club’s chef, was busy when I went to see him. Seemed like a lot of the other guys had a similar idea about feeding their hungry new guests.
Cracking open the styrofoam, I’m greeted with the wonderful smell of what Greg prepared. It is bar food through and through, and sometimes that’s exactly what you want. Thick, greasy, and filling, and I believe I worked up enough of an appetite to enjoy just that.
Baylee inhales the onion rings, nibbling on the burger. She’s a lot hungrier than she let on, and sucks down the water too. I can’t help but stare as she digs in.
She slows down, and looks my way, looking guilty and sexy as all hell. “Am I doing something wrong?”
I laugh. “No. I’m just glad to see a girl with an appetite. I like it.”
She smiles. I’m already addicted to the sight of it.
I join her in enjoying the food, although I have big, thick steak fries instead of the onion rings I got her. I look at that ring on her finger, its gold glinting in my eye. “Where’s your husband in all of this?”
She freezes, and looks at me with her eyebrow cocked. “My husband? What do you mean?”
“Your husband. He surely should have stepped in during this whole terrifying situation.” I’m struck with a huge dose of dread. “No. He couldn’t have been the one who put you in such a situation, could he?”
“I don’t have a husband,” she says, shaking her head. “And I don’t know why you keep saying I do.”
“Your ring. Isn’t it a wedding ring?”
She looks at the ring on her finger. “This?”
“Doesn’t look like costume jewelry to me, though I’m no expert on fashion.” I’ve been in nothing but leather and denim for the past five years of my life, never worn a piece of jewelry in my life, so I’m not about to give anyone, let alone a lovely woman, anything resembling a jewelry appraisal.
She shakes her head. “Oh no. No, it’s not like that at all! I’m not married.”
“Ring sends that signal, you know.”
It dawns on her as I say the words. “That’s what it says, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. Any guy who shows the slightest bit of respect for a woman won’t go after her when she’s got a ring like that. Says she’s already married and no one likes a homewrecker.”
She fidgets with it. “I guess that’s why I haven’t had too many guys approach me. I thought that was a bit weird.”
“No Wildfire man wants to get involved with a married woman.”
Baylee chuckles. “I guess so.”
“So what’s the story then?” I have to say I’m very relieved to hear that she’s not married. To an embarrassing extent. It makes me feel like some sort of selfish asshole, when I’m sure the last thing she wants after tonight is someone a decade older than her creeping on her again.
“This is my grandmother’s ring. It’s all I have to remember her by.”