Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC 2)

Brock’s gaze changed. “Oh baby, I won’t have to knock you unconscious and trust me, you’ll be begging me to shove something down your throat.”

My stomach dipped. “You’re disgusting,” I whispered.

“You know I’m right,” he said softly back and then kissed me quickly on the lips before straightening.

Hansen, who didn’t look at all perturbed by our exchange, clapped Brock on the back and lifted his chin to me. “I’ll be back to check on you later on today. And as much as I respect your prerogative and your right as a woman to not listen to no man, I must request you stay off your feet as much as possible.” He winked at me, then he and Brock walked out the door, Brock smirking over his shoulder as he left.

I didn’t have much time alone with my thoughts after the door shut. More accurately I had about three point five seconds to analyze what went on moments before and what the heck was going on between Brock and I before Macy arrived. The door burst open and a small woman thundered through it, arms full with a breakfast tray and a laptop.

“Good morning! I hope you’re hungry. Even if you aren’t there is no way you could resist this French toast. Jonah only makes it on like ‘special occasions’ and I’m talking when the Yankees win the World Series type occasions, and looks like you deserve this orgasm on a plate, my dear. Heck, I’m thinking on getting kidnapped myself so he can make these when the boys come and rescue me.” She stopped speaking abruptly, eyes snapping up.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, that made me sound like a crazy insensitive bitch. I swear I’m not. Well, insensitive anyway. A lot of the guys around here might argue with the crazy bit. I am. In a good way, though, you know?” She arranged a plate in front of me and my mouth watered at the smell. She also looked genuinely sorry, which I couldn’t help but laugh about. Her brown eyes were wide and apologetic.

“It’s fine. If you had told me two years ago that I could lose this much weight in one week just by getting snatched from a bar in New Mexico, I would have seriously considered it,” I joked, picking up my fork.

Macy regarded me as if she had x-ray vision. “Girl, I hear that, but you look like you lost fifteen pounds too much. We need to get some meat on those bones, and trust me, French toast is a great way to start.”

She settled on the chair beside me, with a plate of her own in her lap.

“Oh shit, I’m Macy, by the way,” she said after her first mouthful.

I groaned slightly at my own first bite; this was the best breakfast I had ever tasted. But the sweet taste of freedom mixed with maple syrup may have contributed.

“I’m Amy,” I said, recovering from my foodgasm.

“I know. Everybody knows. You’re pretty much the main subject around here.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

Macy nodded her brown curls. “Really. The Cali boys rode up here like bats outta hell a couple o’ days ago and everyone got called in. I’ve never seen the guys that grim and seriously fucked off before. But it was scary. Like in a good way. They were shaking their alphaness around and it made for one heck of an aphrodisiac.” She winced. “Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”

I waved my hand. “I get it. If the guys in this charter look anything like the ones back home I totally get it.”

Macy chewed for a while. “Yeah, we’ve got a couple o’ studs, but nothing like the caliber of guys from the main charter. It’s like someone spiked the freaking water down there in California. I’m serious skeptical as to how that many attractive men can be concentrated into one charter. It’s cruel, really. They should be sprinkled around so more women can appreciate their beauty, or at least they could take their show on the road.” Her eyes went dreamy.

I couldn’t help but laugh again at this girl. She was a freaking hoot. And just what I needed to take my mind off things. Ideally I needed my best friend. I more than needed her; I felt incomplete without her. But Macy would do until I was well enough to travel.

“Whose old lady are you?” I asked in between bites. I was seriously surprised to see I had inhaled almost the entire plate in under five minutes.

Macy’s smile dimmed slightly. “No one’s yet, but I’m just waiting for them to realize what a perfect old lady they have under their noses. They just aren’t ready.”

“They? Or is there someone in particular?” I asked, picking up the meaning behind her words. The fact that this meant she was effectively a club girl didn’t faze me; she was sweet and fed me freaking amazing French toast. How could I judge her?

Macy paused a second, looking almost sad. I’d known her for all of fifteen minutes but I could tell that expression was unwelcome on her pretty face.

“Hansen. He’s just so freaking stoic and he never does anything with women. I started to think he was gay, until…” Macy petered off.

I sat up, reveling in the girl talk. “Until…” I pressed.

Macy put her plate to the side and I got the gravity of the situation. There was still half a plate of food on there; you didn’t put that down lightly.

“Well, one night I stayed late to clean up the kitchen and there was no one around, so I had my headphones on and was dancing and singing and stuff. Next thing I know he’s right there, staring at me. I took out my headphones to say something, something stupid most likely, but he marches up to me and kisses me.” She gave me a meaningful look. “I mean kissed me. There was no doubt about his sexuality after that. I thought I got pregnant off that kiss.”