Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC 1)

“Cute dress, Gwennie, from the store?” Amy’s voice shook me from my thoughts.

I turned to see her lounging on my bed. Maybe everyone had crazy stealth skills? Or it was more likely I retreated into my mind so much I had no awareness of the world around me.

“Yeah it only came in on Saturday, almost sold out already,” I told her, focusing on the conversation at hand.

“No wonder, good advertising, you going out in that. Every woman in this town will be wanting one,” she told me looking me up and down.

I laughed, checking my appearance in my mirror one last time. My dress was a white and blue print, similar to a Greek tile design. It had capped sleeves, a plunging neckline and a slightly flared skirt finishing well above my knees. I paired it with white strappy sandals and a blue bag. God I loved owning a clothing store.

“Oh before I forget, can you please handle the store on Friday when I go and pick Ian up from the airport?” I asked, dropping some lip-gloss in my Fendi.

Amy’s face paled slightly. “Ian?”

“Yeah, Ian, my brother? He’s coming to stay for a couple of days, remember?”

Amy stood, still looking off.

“You never told me he was coming,” she accused, sounding slightly irritated.

I frowned. “Didn’t I? Sorry, I thought I did, my brain is all over the place at the moment.” I paused, not being able to place the expression on her face, what was with the reaction?

“He’s staying here?” she asked strangely.

“Yeah, of course, it’s not like we don’t have the room. I want to make the most of the time he’s here, we should have dinner tonight and plan some activities.”

Amy narrowed her eyebrows at me.

“Are you ok? You never make that expression, you always say it gives you premature wrinkles,” I teased.

“Yeah, fine. And it does,” she answered changing her expression. She got up off the bed and walked towards the door. “I’m going for a run, will see you later,” she announced.

My eyes widened and my spidey senses kicked in. A run? Amy didn’t run. She watched what she ate specifically so she didn’t have to endure ‘torture disguised as exercise.’ I didn’t have time to think anymore on this as I heard Cade’s bike pull up. I rushed downstairs calling out a goodbye to Amy, promising myself to get to the bottom of her behavior tonight.

As I stepped outside I drank in the sight of Cade, sitting on his bike, sunglass clad and looking too sexy for his own good. He was wearing all black, as usual, the tee under his cut tight enough I could see the outline of his muscles underneath. His hair was delightful messy as usual, falling to his chin. It seemed he was checking me out also, but was doing it with furrowed brows.

“We might have to take my car, Cade,” I called out. “This dress won’t travel well on a bike.” I gestured down my body, grabbing my keys out of my purse, waiting for him to get off his bike. He pushed off his bike, striding towards me and snatched my keys out of my hand.

“Hey!” I protested. “Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to snatch?”

“Go inside and get changed,” he ordered, voice gruff.

I stared at him a moment, then pushed my sunglasses onto my head. “Excuse me?” I asked menacingly, in the tone that every man should recognize from a woman. That was the, ‘if you don’t reconsider what you just said shit is going to go down’ kind of tone. Cade obviously wasn’t familiar with this tone.

“I’m not fond of repeating myself, babe. Now go and get changed into something that doesn’t show half your fuckin tits and which covers a hell of a lot more leg.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He did not just say that.

“Okay, well instead of going to brunch, how about I go and search for some nuts and fruits while you hunt a wild animal for us to eat?” I snapped.

Cade pushed his own sunglasses to his head, revealing angry eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about Gwen?”

“Oh you know, that’s how they did it back in prehistoric times. When all men were cavemen.” I bit out sarcastically, challenging Cade’s steady glare.

“I’m not finding that smart mouth funny right now, Gwen. Change, now.” He sounded like he was about to lose his temper and he wasn’t the only one.

My temper had risen to epic proportions; I was surprised steam wasn’t coming out of my ears. I was physically unable to form a response for a moment; Cade was scowling at me, armed crossed in his ‘I’m a badass everyone must obey or else’ stance.

“A little thing happened in the not so distant past Cade, something called feminism, which meant that women have the right to do a lot of things, like vote, get equal pay, oh, and wear whatever the fuck they want. There is no way I’m letting anyone tell me what to wear, ever. If you wanted a timid ‘Old Lady’ who would don a full length fucking burka at your request you’ve got the wrong one.” I was breathing heavily at the end of my little speech, my glare dared Cade to argue.

Cade glared back before yanking me towards him, plastering our bodies together, his hands firmly at my ass.

“This is mine Gwen.” He exclaimed, squeezing my behind. His other hand roughly cupped my breast. “These are mine.”

I tried to pull away, very aware I was getting fondled in broad daylight. Cade’s grip was firm, I hoped none of my neighbors were watching.

My breath hitched as his hand left my breast, sliding down my body and slipped under the skirt of my dress, lightly brushing over the top of my panties.

“This is most definitely fuckin’ mine,” his gravelly voice declared.

I opened my mouth to remind him that we were in public and could be scarring the young children who lived across the street, but his hand left my panties and cupped my face.