Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC 2)

“You’re Amy?” he said quietly.

I nodded slowly, recognizing the familiar accent. My stomach plummeted.

“I’m here to see Gwen,” he said slowly, “but I was hoping I’d get to meet you too. I’m Ian’s best friend—we were more like brothers, really. I was there when…” He paused. “I couldn’t make it to the funeral. I’ve only just gotten leave,” he explained, his voice grim.

I blinked, dread settling in my stomach. Not just at the grief in his tone but at his clear deduction of who I was. He thought I was the grieving girlfriend. I could see the pity in his eyes as I shook myself.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked quietly.

Keltan nodded. “Thanks.”

I stepped aside and let him in in a daze. “Um, Gwen’s not here. She doesn’t actually live here anymore. She lives with her husband and baby now,” I told him, directing him into our living room.

Keltan stopped and gazed at me in surprise. “No shit? Gwen’s a mum? And married?”

I nodded. “No one’s more surprised than I was. I totally thought she’d be doing body shots off strippers until she was sixty. Now it looks like I’ll be doing that alone,” I joked.

Keltan burst out laughing. “Ian was not wrong, you’re something,” he told me after recovering.

The mention of his name sobered me. I gestured to the couch. “Please sit down. Can I get you anything? A beer?”

Keltan gave me a grin, “A beer would be great. Thanks, Amy. Shit, I’m sorry. I feel like I know you already—Ian talked about you all the fuckin’ time.”

I kept my smile but it was tight. “I’ll get you that beer and call Gwen, get her to get her ass over here,” I told him with my smile still in place. “Make yourself at home.”

Once I made it to the kitchen I sank down, the weight of reality hard on my chest. I took a moment, then grabbed my phone.

“’Sup whore? I thought you’d be balls deep into a sex marathon by now,” Gwen answered.

“Not exactly,” I said quietly. “Um, Keltan’s here.”

There was a pause. “Keltan?” Gwen said in a tiny voice.

I nodded, but then realized she couldn’t see my nod on the phone.

“I’ll be right there, I’m two minutes away,” she declared, hanging up.

I got Keltan’s beer and one for myself, returning into the living room.

“Here you go.” I gave him the drink, sitting across from him. “Gwen’s on her way.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking a pull of the beer. “That shit’s good. Nothing on the stuff we got back home, but a huge improvement on what I got when I was deployed,” he told me with a grin.

“When did you get here?” I asked, grasping for topics of conversation that didn’t involve his dead friend.

“’Bout an hour ago,” he said, sinking back into the couch. In other circumstances I would have been appreciating the way his muscles moved at such a gesture and inspecting the tribal tattoo sneaking out from under his tee. Not today.

“Holy shit, you must be exhausted. I should have gotten the whiskey out,” I joked. I sure as shit needed something stronger than beer. Like Prozac.

Keltan chuckled. “Nah, beer’s good for me. I’m not a hard liquor man myself, just a humble country boy at heart.”

I smiled. “So you’ve known Gwen a long time then?”

Keltan’s expression went soft. “Yeah, I’ve known her all my life,—she’s like a sister to me. Even used to beat me up when we were kids.”

I raised an eyebrow. Teeny tiny Gwen beating up this muscled Adonis?

Keltan saw my disbelief. “She may be small now, but she was a freaking chubby kid, and a vicious one at that,” he said seriously.

I burst out laughing at the visual. “I would have loved to have seen that.”

Keltan smirked. “Yeah, it’s hard to believe looking at her now. Although she could still hold her own against Ian and me, she’s something else when she’s riled.”

I nodded. “Don’t I know it.”

Silence descended for a moment.

Keltan’s face turned serious. “How is she?” he asked.

I paused. “She’s good. She’s better. She’s the strongest person I know,” I said quietly.

Keltan nodded, a proud look on his face. “I know, Ian was so proud of her. Wouldn’t stop talkin’ about how well she was doing after his visit here.” He paused. “He mentioned you as well—fuck, I think you’re the reason why we were going to open our security business two hours down the road. Then he could work on convincing you to marry him.” His tone was light but his eyes were haunted.

I swallowed, unsure of how to respond. How did I tell him I had no intention of becoming his best friend’s wife? Thankfully I didn’t have to, as the front door opened and closed. Both Keltan and eye looked to it, expecting Gwen. Instead we were treated with a friggin’ huge biker. His eyes narrowed at Keltan, who stood.

I stood also. “Hey. Brock this is Keltan. Keltan, this is Brock,” I said with a shaky voice.

Keltan stepped forward with a smile. If Ian had told him about a certain biker he wasn’t letting on. “Good to meet you, bro,” he said, holding out his hand.

Brock’s face was blank but he shook Keltan’s hand. “You too,” he grunted.

“Keltan’s a friend of Gwen’s,” I explained once they had released each other’s hands. Brock nodded, moving to stand beside me, his hand lightly coming to my waist.

“Sweet, you here from New Zealand?” Brock asked with a friendly tone, taking my beer to have a sip.

Keltan watched this but he didn’t betray a thing. “Nah, man, I’m here from deployment. Just finished my last tour,” he explained. Brock stilled, realization flowing through him.

We didn’t get to carry on this awkward conversation as the front door flew open again, Gwen bursting into the room. I could have kissed her. She carefully set down her baby carrier and squealed. “Keltan!” She ran into his arms

I detached from a stiff Brock to get a wide-eyed Belle out of her carrier. She made a snuffling noise as I picked her up, then quieted. I used to be nervous at holding such a breakable human, now I was a pro. As long as she didn’t projectile vomit on me.