“Hmm,” she said, letting her eyes fall closed as she absorbed the feeling of LJ’s beard tickling her cheek. “Does it come in six-and-a-half feet of wrapping paper?”
He chuckled against her ear. “How’d you know?”
With a shrug, Holly said, “Just figured you’d know exactly what I wanted for my birthday.”
“Mmm, I do know exactly what you like, don’t I?”
God, all it took was that sexy voice, and she melted like an ice cube on ninety-degree day. “Yes, you do.”
“Come one, let’s get home before I fuck you right here in a freezing hospital parking lot.”
After one last quick kiss, LJ helped her into the truck. As he walked around to the driver’s side, Holly rested her head back and let her eyes fall closed. For the first time in thirteen years, she felt true happiness on her birthday.
No wonder. She had so many fantastic people in her life this year. Her MC sisters. The men of the club.
LJ first and foremost.
And, what she’d never thought possible, now she had Joy back in her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ROCKET
“You know, you’re allowed to actually have a good time today. What, with it being fucking Christmas Day and all,” Copper said as he lumbered up next to Rocket at the bar.
Rocket grunted. Holidays had never meant much to him before joining the Handlers. It all seemed like a lot of pomp and circumstance for one day. But the MC made a big deal of Christmas each year, and ever since he’d patched in, he played along with the hoopla. Now that he had Chloe in his life, Christmas was an even bigger event. She’d nearly lost her mind when he told her he didn’t bother putting up a Christmas tree and had no plans to this year either. Now he was saddled with a ten-foot fir taking up real estate in his cabin.
Though he had to admit seeing Chloe’s eyes bright with happiness the first time they lit up the tree made the hassle of chopping that fucker down worth it. Since then, his kitchen had been used to make piles of Christmas cookies for the first time ever. The entire inside of the cabin smelled of Christmas pine, and decorations hung everywhere he looked. Chloe insisted she bought him the perfect present and practically bounced off the walls when she gave it to him.
She’d been right.
The vacation to South Dakota she’d booked them hit the nail on the head and then some. They’d hit Sturgis, ride to Mt. Rushmore, and cruise through a motorcycle-loving section of the country Rocket hadn’t had the pleasure of visiting yet. Late spring couldn’t come fast enough.
“Chloe with you?” Copper asked as he flagged down Thunder behind the bar.
“She’s still at the house with her brother. Figured I’d give them some time alone. But he’ll be tagging along, and they should be here soon.” Outside of his brothers, Scott was the only man he trusted to keep Chloe safe.
One of Copper’s red eyebrows arched. “Straight-laced Scott is gonna step foot in a biker clubhouse? The world ending, and I don’t know about it?”
With another grunt, Rocket shook his head.
“You pissed about his visit or something?”
“Nah. He’s a good guy.” Though he’d nearly ripped Rocket’s head off when Rocket gave him the heads up to remain alert at all times.
“So why the fuck you sitting here with a fucking glower when everyone else is eating, drinking, and being fucking merry?”
Behind them, chatter reached a dull roar as gifts were exchanged, drinks were consumed, and Beth made every biker in the club kiss her cheeks under the ‘missy toe.’ Even if he wanted to be just a little less antisocial today, Rocket couldn’t bring himself to join the festivities. Hopefully, when Chloe arrived, she could drag him out of his funk
“It’s nothing, Cop. Just got some shit on my mind.” Shit that meant bad news for the club. Shit he came across while investigating the Chrome Disciples, but couldn’t bring himself to reveal until Christmas had passed. Instead, he ruminated on the information alone.
“Bullshit.”
“Scotch, Prez?” Thunder asked as he strode over.
Copper nodded but kept his attention Rocket’s way. “Spit it the fuck out, Rocket. My woman’s worried about you and fuck if I’ll let anything bother her today. So open your fucking mouth and talk.”
“Can we do this tomorrow? I got shit to say that’ll likely fuck this day for you.”
Copper’s eyes narrowed, and he set his glass down, all attention on Rocket. “Talk.”
Fuck. Looked like he wasn’t getting out of it.
“Got some intel on Crank.”
“Fuck.” Copper downed the few fingers of Scotch in one large gulp. “Let me guess, you’re not about to tell me he fled town, are you?”
Pointing to his glass for a refill of the straight vodka he’d been consuming, Rocket shook his head. “Not even close, brother.”