Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC 1)

Rosie grinned drunkenly. “You got it! Girls’ night!”

“Sounds like a plan, thank you for such an awesome time and for inviting us,” I continued, genuinely glad I came, despite the male drama.

“No problem, you girls are the shit,” Rosie yelled, mimicking Ashley’s statement.

“Yes we are!” Amy chimed in, slurring her words slightly. “But alas, I will also have to decline on the tequila, as I don’t want the boss to think I’m hungover tomorrow.” She winked at me, then gave Rosie a big old smacker on the lips, earning a lot more whistles than my butt slap. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and we began to wade through people, saying our goodbyes along the way.

I caught a glimpse of Cade who had his eyebrows narrowed and was striding purposefully towards us. “Oh shit,” I muttered under my breath. I so didn’t want to deal with macho man bullshit right now. I wanted to go home, take a bath and get ready for my opening.

Just before he reached me, his phone went off, he glanced down at the display and scowled. I watched him answer the call, bark a few responses back and then end it. He then made some kind of signal, which made all the men wearing cuts stand up and walk towards their bikes. Cade turned back and gave me a meaningful glare before hopping on his bike and roaring off.

“That was weird,” Amy proclaimed drunkenly.

“Yeah, it was,” I muttered, almost to myself.

CHAPTER FOUR

I gazed around my store smiling to myself, delighted at the finished product and amazed at what Amy and I had managed to get done. It was perfect, everything I had imagined it would be. The walls were pure white, and we had white floors as well. As you walked in there was a freestanding mock brick wall running down a part of the store with a rack attached, giving it a rustic look to juxtapose the stark white. To the right of the wall was a table of brightly colored sweaters and a shelf reaching to the ceiling, full of different colored accessories with printed wallpaper behind the shelf. The wall to the left of the free-standing brick wall was free of racks but had a huge canvas with an aerial view of New York that took up the whole wall. Looking towards the counter, there were some more racks and an old wooden table covered with candles and some jewelry. The fitting rooms had white doors and each room was carpeted with bright patterned carpet, matching the wallpaper.

I loved my store, it was a mix between stylish minimalism and rustic country charm, which I hoped would be received well by the residents of Amber.

I had been so busy with the set up my mind hadn’t wandered to Cade…much. I was glad I hadn’t heard from him or caught him skulking around my house in the middle of the night. Well, that was what I told myself. Back to the opening.

Amy and I had set up a table full of nibbles, nothing fancy or pretentious, just great wholesome food, and I made a giant batch of my brownies, barely being able to restrain myself from eating half of them. And of course we had our contractors set up a temporary (I was thinking of keeping it) bar, stocked with ingredients for a couple of cocktails (cosmos of course), some champagne and good old beer. Amy had decided she would be the bartender for the night. I had argued with her a bit on that one, wanting to hire someone so she was free to mingle with the guests/customers. We were going to encourage the women to have a try on, so we could hopefully make some money. Amy had replied, “Gwen, I will be serving alcohol, not only does a couple of cocktails loosen people’s wallets, but what better place to mingle with people than at the bar, where people will be guaranteed to return to?” I couldn’t fault her logic.

It was after six and I wondered where Amy was. I told her that we had invited Rosie and her posse to come at six-thirty, so she’d better be here. I had gotten ready early, so I could put the finishing touches on everything without worrying about primping. Amy had left about an hour ago saying she had to go and ‘get hot’ for the biker/hot cop man candy that may or may not be there tonight. Her words not mine.

I took another quick look in the floor to ceiling mirror. I had on a bright red dress. It was skintight with capped sleeves and a plunging neckline, exposing a fair bit of my not so ample breasts, but it worked for me, having been designed for small busted women (thank you Mrs Beckham). I had kick ass matching red shoes, they were high, and I mean high, with a tiny stiletto heel and a pointed toe. There were tiny straps around my ankles embellished with little gold studs, giving my look a bit of edge. I had a couple of gold bangles on my wrist but otherwise wore no jewelry, the dress and shoes spoke for themselves. I had my hair up in a loose bun, with small curls escaping around my face. My make-up was not too over the top, a small amount of eyeliner, but a big amount of my absolute favorite mascara that made my lashes look lush. I had a subtle red gloss on my lips, not wanting to go too overboard with the red thing. I had to admit I looked pretty good and judging on how Amy’s jaw had dropped when she saw me, I guess she thought I looked okay as well.

I wondered if Luke would be here tonight. I deliberated to myself whether I could muster up the same sort of electric connection I felt with Cade and channel it into a more sensible direction.

The clanging of the bell shook me out of my thoughts and Amy strutted in. It was my turn for a jaw drop. I thought I looked okay, but she was…wow. She was dressed in pure white, donning a strapless, bustier style top, which molded to her body perfectly, showing off her more than ample chest in a tasteful way. She paired this with a skintight white pencil skirt, skimming her knees. She had on (my) white strappy stilettos, which came up past her ankle and made her legs look amazing. Her red hair was curled into soft waves and she had little make-up on, apart from some amazing red lipstick.