Reeve (The Henchmen MC 11)

"Offer the woman a warm beverage, Reeve," his brother teased, not even bothering to hide his grin, making it rather clear that while women, in general, might not have been unusual in the clubhouse, women there to see Reeve were. That was... interesting. He was a beautiful specimen of a man. He wasn't opposed to doing good deeds. He seemed to care that I was cold. It all added up to serious panty-dropping. Why wouldn't he have women at the gates looking for him?

"Mind your own damn business, Cy," Reeve shot back. "But I do figure you are on your way to walk the dogs again, right? You want to warm up for a few?"

"I wouldn't mind something warm to drink," I agreed, figuring that I was already in the belly of the beast. And at least it was warm here.

"Come on," he said, holding a hand out to indicate the kitchen, allowing me to fall into step with him before he pivoted slightly, and pummeled his heavy jacket at his brother. "There's always coffee in here," he added as we moved inside, finding two men already occupying the space.

One was older with a full beard, somewhat long hair, a tall and solidly built body, and something feral about him, something wild behind the eyes, something that reminded me of wolves and other untamed things.

The other was no less tall or well built, but with a deeper, Puerto Rican skin tone, charming eyes, an easy smile, and dimples. An outlaw biker with dimples. That was almost silly.

"This is Roan and Roderick," he said, indicating wolf-man as Roan and the dimpled biker as Roderick.

"A lot of Rs in here, huh? Roan, Roderick, Reeve, and doesn't your president have an R-name too?" I asked, turning my head to look at Reeve who was just behind my shoulder.

"Reign," he agreed.

"There's also Renny," Roderick added, happy to join in. "And who are you, mami?" he asked, charm dripping from those words. He, like Cy, must have gotten all the chicks.

"Rey," I supplied.

"Ray. Like ray of sunshine?" he asked, taking a look at my hair and face. "That fits."

"Wrong spelling," I countered, "and that was a pretty lame line," I finished, making the wolf-man do a low, rumbling chuckle.

"Hey, I try," Roderick said, shrugging, unfazed. "What are you doing here this snowy morning?"

"Returning my jacket," Reeve supplied, his tone almost a little clipped for reasons I didn't understand.

But, apparently, Roderick and Roan did because Roderick raised his brows like this was interesting, and Roan simply gave him a short nod. It was one of those man-language things. And I found myself without a man-language-to-common-English dictionary.

"How do you take it?" Reeve asked, moving out from behind me to the coffee machine, reaching above to pull down a mug that had an I

"One sugar," I supplied, having given up milk a few years before when I realized that had been what had given me chronic sinus infections that had always needed Babcia's tea. I didn't usually drink coffee at all, but this did not seem like the kind of place to keep tea or hot chocolate stocked, so I could take what I could get to warm up.

"Mami," Roderick said, eyes roaming over me, "were you out walking in that outfit?" he asked, making me look down, seeing the edge of my beloved blue skirt was a good five inches deep in wet, and clumps of snow were hanging off the admittedly too-thin cape I was wearing as a jacket.

"I don't drive," I supplied with a shrug.

"Ever?" he asked, like this information made no sense at all.

"Nope. I walk or bike or take the bus."

"It's twenty degrees out there," he pressed.

"As she's aware seeing as she's standing here shivering," Reeve interjected, handing me a cup of coffee that felt a little too good warming up my hands.

"Shit, yeah. You want me to grab you a jacket?" he asked, clearly the kind of man who really cared about women. Even if he maybe went through too many of them. He was the kind of guy who only offered you a one-night-stand, but made sure he draped his jacket over your shoulders as he led you back to his place.

"Seeing as she walked here holding mine without putting it on, I doubt it," Reeve told him in that same somewhat clipped tone again.

"Can I at least give you something to wear so I can throw the skirt and that like... shawl-thing into the dryer?" he pressed.

"Cape," I supplied with a small smile as I put down my coffee. "Actually, that would be good. I have another fifteen-minute walk to a place I am dog-sitting for. And then home." I peeled off my cape, leaving me in a simple long-sleeve tee, somewhat more aware than I would usually be - seeing as I was in a biker compound comprised only of men - that I was not wearing a bra (since I never did) and that I was quite cold still. "And here," I said, reaching for the waistband of my skirt, starting to drag it down, noting the wide eyes of the men around me. As if they had never seen a woman without pants before. But I had pretty thick leggings on anyway. "I will hike the skirt up next time. That was stupid," I told Roderick as he took my pile of clothes from me, trying quite valiantly not to let his eyes roam down my front, though I was sure as he moved where I couldn't see him, he let his eyes linger.