Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC 1)

“Well then tell me,” he interrupted roughly.

I shook my head, lifting myself off him, expecting him to hold me in place. Surprisingly, he let me go, helping me get to my feet, then grabbed my hips softly. His grey eyes pierced mine.

“I know you feel this Gwen, this thing between us, it’s not fucking normal, but don’t run away because you’re scared.”

His gaze, the electricity sizzling between us made my resolve waver.

“I need time to think about this, can you give me that?” I conceded.

He sighed, bringing my forehead to his. “Yeah, baby.”

I was curled up on our porch reading a book, or trying to read, when it was yanked out of my hands.

“Hey! I was reading that,” I scowled at Amy, who was standing above me, one hand on my book, one on her hip.

“Oh really? Is that why you haven’t turned a page in the last half hour?”

“It’s a very engrossing page. I find that reading it a couple of times brings about a richer understanding of the complexities of the characters,” I countered.

Amy raised a brow.

I sighed. “Fine! I keep staring at the same sentence because I can’t stop thinking about Cade. Happy?” I pouted at her.

She perused me for a moment, then gripped my arms and heaved me up to stand in front of her. “No, I am not happy. I am supremely disappointed at the revelations of the other day’s events, while I completely agree with your decision I am sad because I’ve never seen you like that with a guy, especially one that rivals Chris Hemsworth on the hotness scale. But you know what they say, the best way to get over a guy is to get under another. So let’s go!” She herded me into the house.

“Where are we going? Last time I checked there wasn’t any men hiding in my closet that I could get under.” Well as long as you didn’t count my vibrator.

“Ha ha, Gwen. You’re not going to attract any men wearing a football shirt and sweat pants, so you have to change into my black Gucci dress.”

“It’s a rugby top not football, and if I was back at home, my appreciation for the ‘All Blacks’ would have the men lining up to talk to me,” I argued as she shoved me into her closet, which was equally as impressive as mine.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t like to know what kind of men they would be, but here in America, a hot blooded male responds to tits, ass and leg. You’ve got those in abundance.” Her gaze flickered to my chest. “Maybe not the first one, but the other two make up for that.”

I scowled at her as she threw me her dress, but took it, pulling off my shirt.

It had been three days since my conversation with Cade on the beach. I had kept myself busy, but he kept invading my thoughts. No matter how much my rational self pointed me firmly away from him, other parts of my body, like my vagina and my heart nudged me in his direction. I almost drove out there last night, only stopping myself when I was actually in my car.

It didn’t help I’d heard the rumble of Harley’s multiple times in the past few days and had actually seen him drive past me when I was walking out of the coffee shop. Our eyes had locked for a quick second, even from a distance my thighs had quivered. It took all I had not to chase him down. Luckily, I was carrying precious cups of coffee, which were otherwise known as my sanity, so I could not relinquish them, even to chase a sexy herd of bikers down the street. That was not normal behavior. So maybe Amy was right, maybe I did need to look at distracting myself with someone else, or at least consume huge amounts of alcohol. I wasn’t going near Luke, knowing that Rosie was into him. It would be totally against girl code, and even if she didn’t like him, my feelings for him were purely platonic, no matter how hot he was. He had called me to apologize for that day and I had assured him it wasn’t his fault, he had said nothing about Cade, thankfully, but did turn up this morning at the store with my coffee and lighthearted banter.

So here I was, at Laura Maye’s bar, with Amy at my side. I had expected some country themed saloon after meeting Laura Maye but I was pleasantly surprised. Her bar reminded me of a trendy place in New York. The bar sat in the middle of the room, it had a shiny chrome top with green leather stools along it. Floor to ceiling windows exposed the ocean’s breathtaking view, with classy booths running along the windows.

“You girls finally made it! And don’t you both look fine, the men in here are going to be fighting over each other to get to the pair of you!” Laura Maye appeared from behind the bar, kissing us on the cheeks like old friends.

I couldn’t help but smile at this woman’s warm and friendly nature. “It’s so nice to see you again Laura Maye, your bar is amazing. I can’t believe we haven’t been here sooner,” I told her.

She winked at me, directing Amy and me to a table with an amazing view right beside a group of handsome looking men in suits. “I ‘spect you’ve been busy Miss Gwen, but I don’t see you with any man tonight, so why not get to know these gentlemen, just in town for the weekend, on business.” She winked at us again. “I’ll get you ladies some cocktails, coupla my specialties, you’ll like them, and they’ve got a kick.” She sauntered off, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

“That woman is something else,” I exclaimed, settling into my seat, looking over at Amy.

“I know, don’t you love it? I think she’s the only person in the world who can actually make head to toe leopard print work. I respect her for that alone.”