“Yeah,” he replied.
Cade gave him that stare once more, testing the truth in that single word.
Luke supposed he had a lot of practice in staring at a man and looking for a lie in his eyes. Probably more than Luke did, though he’d never admit that out loud.
Cade nodded once. “Okay. Let’s have a beer.”
Luke gaped at him. Openly gaped. He could feel the loss of his poker face and didn’t have it in him to regain it.
“You’re shitting me,” he spluttered. “That’s it?”
Cade nodded again. “That’s it.”
Luke ran his hand through his hair. “You’re not spiking my beer with arsenic?”
Cade made a grunt that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “Poison’s a woman’s weapon. Not my sister’s, of course. Hers is a G42. Subtlety is not her strong suit. Runs in the family.”
“But it can’t be that simple,” Luke said, a smile of his own threatening the corner of his mouth.
“Not many things in life are that simple,” Cade said. “It’s fuckin’ tiring dealing with them. Why the fuck try to make the simple things complicated too? Lost patience for that shit the second I saw life without my wife. My kids.” His eyes went dark. “So you love my sister. She’s happy, really happy this time, so that means she loves you. Do I wish she was with someone who didn’t spend the majority of his career trying to bring down my club? Perhaps. But then again, maybe not. Not my choice. Know by experience it’s not yours, or even hers either. We don’t get to control that shit. We’re just lucky enough to live it.”
Luke stared at Cade. The man who, up until recently, he’d thought of as a criminal, as a cold-blooded killer. Who he’d never heard that many words from… ever.
“Don’t get me wrong. You hurt her, I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to you,” Cade continued conversationally. “After she’s done with you, of course.” He eyed him shrewdly. “Don’t expect I’ll be needing to do that, though. I repeat the question. Do you love her?”
Like before, without hesitation, Luke answered, “Yes.”
Cade shrugged. “Then it’s that simple.”
He turned on his heel, walking toward the entrance of the clubhouse that Luke had never been an invited guest of before in his entire life. If there ever was going to be an invitation, Cade’s shrug and small monologue followed by his exit that didn’t include a death threat or the brandishing of a weapon was it.
Luke stared at the patch on the back of Cade’s cut, the grim reaper taunting him: ‘The Sons of Templar MC.’
All his life, he was convinced that piece of leather, all who wore it, and everything it represented were nothing short of the Devil. He tried to think of what specifically gave him that impression, that bloodthirsty need to see the entire club and its members dismantled and cuffed.
Laurie’s death? No, it was before that. But that certainly fed into his obsession.
He could stand there and ponder the origins of that hate. Or he could choose to leave it right there in the dirt, the last scrap of what remained of his previous life. His badge was long gone, and sometimes he missed the weight of it, but then he thought about that weight on his heart. The buck fifty of it, the chocolate curls that tumbled over it. Rosie’s favorite place, and his favorite place for her—besides on his dick.
The decision wasn’t so hard then.
Cade was right. It really was that simple.
He followed the grim reaper.
Rosie
The moments you expected in life to be climatic and chaotic usually weren’t that way. When you built something up to be either terrible or utterly awesome, most of the time you were disappointed or relieved.
Not that I ever really expected chaos or climatic. I lived in it. Normal would’ve been more unexpected.
But I did expect Luke, out of uniform, next to my brother, walking into the clubhouse during a party to have somewhat of an effect.
Especially when his eyes immediately found me, then his feet, then finally his arms.
There was a pause in all the noise, in all the chaos, so small I might’ve imagined it. Then it was gone, the music was loud, the men were louder, and drinks were flowing.
I didn’t notice any of that, too busy cataloguing Luke for injuries.
He laughed. “I’m not bleedin’ or bruised, babe,” he said, rubbing my arms.
I frowned. “I’m not convinced. I’ll have to give you a very thorough physical. Later.”
My stomach dipped even as I said the words, my skin prickling as Luke’s eyes darkened.
“Your brother didn’t shoot me on sight, Rosie,” he growled. “Don’t push your luck by making me take you to an empty hall and fuck your brains out.” His lips brushed my ear and my panties dampened. “Though, I’d risk getting shot to be fucking you hard and fast against a wall.”