CHAPTER ONE
I hate birthdays.
Well, at least I hate my birthday.
Although, this year, I have a lot to celebrate. I’m finally with the person I want to grow old with. Maybe this year’s birthday ain’t so bad. Given the sort of life I lead, I should be thrilled I even make it to my birthday each year.
It’s been a few weeks since Hope and I had our heart-to-heart, subsequent disagreement, and the drama at the courthouse. I feel lighter since coming clean with her. Well, sort of. I still have lots of things I’m hiding, but little by little I plan to share everything with her.
We’ve spent a lot of time together, and I’ve never been happier. Still there’s things I’ve neglected—nothing important, like weekly church, where we sit down to discuss club business—but I definitely need to show my face at the clubhouse tonight. I’ve managed to negotiate a few good deals for the MC from my home office, usually with Hope sitting on my lap while I make my cryptic phone calls—so at least I have that to alleviate any guilt over my absence.
As much as I’d like to spend the evening under the covers with Hope, I can’t avoid another Friday night get-together. It’s also time I reveal more about this part of my life to her.
“Are you sure you want me there?” she asks for the third time tonight.
She picks at the hem of her shirt as I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous.
“Of course, doll.” Placing a hand on each shoulder, I pull her closer to me. “I haven’t been for the last few weeks. I need to put in an appearance, and I want you with me. I need to start introducing you to everyone as my woman.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Your woman. You sound like a caveman.”
The corners of my mouth turn up. “You say that like it’s an insult.”
“I just feel so out of place around your friends.”
I sigh and suffer a bit of guilt. I hate making her uncomfortable. And it’s quite possible things could get very uncomfortable for my girl tonight. “Your place is with me, doll.”
That seems to cheer her up, and she tosses her hands in the air. “Well, what do I wear?”
I thrust my fingers through my hair. Normally, I’d say as little as possible. But, I don’t want Hope showing those fuckers any more skin than necessary. I wonder if she has a snowsuit?
“Something comfortable. We’re riding my bike up.”
That gets a smile out of her. My girl has taken to the bike more than I expected she would. She’s my perfect blend of sweet and wild.
She dashes into her closet. As I’m standing there, clothes, hangers, and shoes start flying through the air. Some of it lands on the bedroom floor at my feet. I shake my head at the mess she’s making. I’m going to nee
d to give my baby an entire room to use as a closet. That way I can just shut the door on the whole thing. If I ever get her to move the fuck in with me.
Fuck. I’m distracted by her bending over, tipping her perfect, denim-covered ass in my direction. I’m so close to skipping the party, except that I know the club will have something planned for my birthday.
We haven’t been together long enough that I bother mentioning the day to Hope. It’s not as if I’m some little kid expecting a present. Just being with her every second I can get has been enough of a gift. No reason to get greedy.
She’s finally ready and proudly shows off her LOKI T-shirt. It’s all my favorite things: blue, tight, and tiny—with my club’s logo spelled out right over her perfect, perky breasts. Now that’s a present.
Her lips are quivering with barely concealed glee, and I notice she’s got something tucked behind her back.
“Whatcha got there, doll?”
Almost shyly, she swings this box out from behind her. It’s wrapped in matte black paper with a silver bow.
“Happy Birthday.”
I’m stunned. Completely dumbfounded. How did she even know? I’m standing there like an idiot for so long, worry steals over her face, so I reach out and take the box. It’s got some heft to it, and I’m dying to know what my girl got for me. I stagger over to the bed and drop down. She follows and stands over me, running her fingers through my hair.
“I wasn’t sure what to get the big, bad biker who has everything…”
It’s silly, but when she calls me that, it sends a thrill through me. “Whatever it is, I’ll love it,” I assure her.
Ripping off the paper leaves my jaw hanging. “My God, Hope. How did you even find this?” I’m holding a box with a bottle of specially aged, sixteen-year-old single malt Scotch. It’s in a fancy box because it comes in a wooden frame designed to look like a Viking ship. I know it probably cost quite a bit since only 1,500 bottles were even released in the States. I can’t imagine the trouble she went to in order to track it down.
“Do you think you’ll like it? I don’t know that much about Scotch or liquor in general. The guy I ordered it from told me any serious Scotch drinker would like it.” She stops and gives me that shy smile I love so much. “I really liked the ship thingie it comes in, it reminded me of—”
She stops and traces her fingers over my chest. I know she means my pirate ship tattoo, and I don’t bother correcting her because I don’t care about anything but how generous and lovely my girl is.
“You’ll drink it, right?” she says, a bit of worry still clinging to her expression.
“Hell, yes.”
Her eyes light up, and she claps her hands together in that way that makes her look so young I feel like a dirty old man next to her.
Having Hope wrapped around me on the way up to the club feels so good, I almost keep driving. The night is cool. But the wind rushing against me brings all my senses alive. Soon enough winter will be here, and I’ll be relegated to driving my cage for months on end. I understand why the old-timers relocate to Florida.
The clubhouse is already wild when we arrive. I swear I can hear the thump of music all the way down at the front gate. I drive through carefully because you never know where the party-goers will end up. I back the bike into my spot and say hello to a bunch of people outside. Hope dismounts like a pro and shakes her hair out after handing me her helmet. Random people milling around greet us, and she gives a shy wave in return.
“You’re sure you want me here?” she whispers.
I snag her around the waist and pull her close for a searing kiss. She’s completely dazed when I’m done with her. Against her ear, I whisper, “If you ask me again, I’m going to give you all thirty-eight of my birthday spankings when we get upstairs.”
Her eyes go wide and her legs wobble, so I hold her tighter to me. “Are we clear, doll?”
She nods.
“Answer me,” I growl in her ear.
“Yes, Rock.”
“Good girl.” I give her a pat on the ass, but I don’t let her go just yet. I’ve found I have a hard time keeping my hands off of Hope no matter where we are. Makes things awkward when we’re out in the “real world” like the grocery store or post office. But this is my club, my world, so I’ll be touching her all damn night.
Someone whistles in our direction, and the crunch of gravel reaches my ear. Reluctantly I let go of Hope, but I capture her hand in mine.
“Prez,” Wrath greets me. He’s made his irritation over my recent absence quite clear at church every weekend. The daily, nagging texts he sends also help get his point across.
With a less than friendly look, he says hello to Hope. He turns back to me, dismissing her, and I can already tell we’re going to have issues tonight.
Happy Birthday to me.
Wrath hates me. I’m not sure what I’ve done to incur his…well, wrath. But he’s definitely not a fan of mine. I try to be as nice as possible, but it doesn’t get me anywhere with him. While Rock and Wrath do their death glare thing with each other, I lean over and pull the Scotch out. Rock takes it from me and slips his arm around my waist while tucking the box under his other arm.
“What’s in the box, prez?”
“Birthday present from Hope.”
Wrath glances at me with a surprised expression. Why is everyone shocked I got my boyfriend a present for his birthday?
Inside is an eye-opener. It’s about thirty degrees warmer, and I am way overdressed. The scene makes me appreciate that Rock told me to dress comfortably. The memo the rest of the girls inside got clearly stated “clothing optional.” The scent of sex, weed, and alcohol permeates everything.
A crowd forms at the door, and we barely make it inside. Everyone is excited to see Rock. People shout and tug at him. He smiles and acknowledges each person in that easy manner I envy so much.
Turning to me, he bends down. “You okay?”
I nod. Because he can sense how overwhelmed I am, he seats me in a corner of the couch in the back of the room. “I want to go lock this up. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” As he steps away, he slaps a hand on Wrath’s shoulder and whispers something to him. Wrath’s gaze flicks in my direction and he nods once.
As Rock moves farther away into the crowd, his big, mean Viking friend pushes his way through the group toward me.
“Didn’t think this would be your scene,” he shouts over the music. He drops down next to me on the couch, sending me bouncing into the air a little.
I’m not sure how to respond. Anything I say is bound to be offensive to Wrath or an outright lie. So instead I just smile as if I’m a bit daft.
“How long have you and Rock known each other?” I ask out of curiosity. Rock has explained that Wrath functions as his “enforcer” in the club. I have no clue what that means, but judging from the guy’s bulging muscles and scarred knuckles, it’s clearer.
“Long damn time.”
“Did you meet through the club?”
“No. We knew each other before. Knew Z too.” He nods at a tall guy across the room. I recognize the dark hair, simmering blue eyes, and neck tattoo. He took my friend Lilly home the night Rock and I got together. He’s surrounded by at least three different barely dressed girls at the moment. I make a mental note to ask Sophie if Lilly and Z have anything going on.
“We all prospected together. Very different time.”
I don’t know what to say. “Oh.”
“You know much about MCs, Hope?”
“No. I mean, only what I’ve learned from Rock.”
He nods, his gaze roaming all over me. He visually gropes me for so long, my skin heats under his scrutiny. “What are you doing here then?” he finally asks.
My brows pull together. What kind of question is that? “I’m here with Rock.”
He shakes his head. “What’s a woman like you doing with my president? You guys got nothing in common.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I’m n
ot going to let this asshole intimidate me. “I like him, and he likes me.”
He shakes his head like I’m too dense to get his point. “You’re just as clueless as Cinda-fuckin-rella aren’t you? He doesn’t ‘like’ you. He’s fuckin in love with you. As in droppin’ responsibilities and getting us into bad shit in love with you. And you’re just over there in your little preppy, lawyer world, thinking what exactly? You’ll take a walk on the wild side? Throw on some leather and be one of us? You ain’t ever gonna be one of us, sweetie.”
His words are brutal and they strike their target. He isn’t saying anything I haven’t already thought of, he’s just saying it a lot meaner.
Straightening my spine, I’m determined not to let this asshole get to me. “Are you sure you’re not in love with him, Wrath? You sound like a jealous boyfriend,” I snap back.
My words hit him and his nostrils flare. I’m a little frightened, actually. Suddenly the hard lines of his face diminish, and he lets out a loud chuckle.
“Well, fuck if you aren’t a spitfire.”
“Well, fuck if you’re not a big jerk.”
“That I am, sugar.” He grins a big, goofy grin at me. The total opposite of the menace he displayed seconds ago—until Rock comes up and kicks him in the calf.
“That did not look like a friendly conversation, asshole. I told you to look after Hope, not terrorize her.”
Rock motions for me to stand and then steals my seat. He pulls me onto his lap, and I snuggle up against him, relieved he’s returned to save me from his jerkface friend. Wrath cocks his head and takes us in.
“We’re solid. Right, Hope?”
I want to say “no, you’re an asshole,” but I feel like I’m close to passing some sort of test with him. “Yup. Wrath was just giving me the lay of the land.”
Rock squeezes the curve of my hip, his hand sneaking under the hem of my T-shirt to brush against my bare skin. I shiver. His other arm is draped over my thighs, holding me tight to him. At last a familiar, friendly face stops by. I sit up straight so I can greet her.