Copper (Hell's Handlers MC 4)

“Shit,” Jig said. “That’s right, Prez. I almost forgot about that. ’Bout time you made a move there.”

Copper growled. What the fuck were these ladies running their traps about? There’s no way in hell he’d ever make any kind of move on Shell. By the smirks on Mav, Jig, and Zach’s faces, they knew it and were just yanking his chain. “Get the fuck outta here.”

“They’re right, Cop,” Mav pipped in from next to Copper. “Known you both a long damn time and aside from the night her pops was killed I’ve never seen you do more than shake her hand. Last night you had her on your lap, nuzzling her neck and shit. Looked about ten seconds away from yanking her dress down and sucking her tits.”

“Hey!” Copper slapped Mav on the back of his head, causing his brother’s coffee to slosh on the table. “Have some fucking respect. That’s Shell you’re talking about. She’s a mother for fuck’s sake.”

Zach snorted out a laugh. “So what? That automatically makes her unfuckable? Don’t think so, Prez. Shell’s hot and every man in the club knows that. Only reason they stay away is they think you’ve got dibs. That won’t last forever, though. One day there’ll be some prospect brave enough to claim her. And how do you think she became a mother? Doubt it was an immaculate fucking conception.”

How Beth came to be was something Copper didn’t allow himself to think about. Ever. Made him sick to his stomach to imagine some dumb kid with his hands and twiggy dick all over an eighteen-year-old Shell. Copper shot his enforcer a look that would have made a lesser man piss himself. Unfortunately, he’d known Zach about ten years, and his murder-glares weren’t as effective as they’d once been.

He ran a hand down his face. Shit. How drunk had he been last night? Sure, he’d been shitfaced, that much was obvious by the throbbing head and aching eyes, but to break his one hard and fast rule and be all over Shell? Dread filled him. God, he hoped he hadn’t crossed any lines. Last thing he wanted or needed was an awkward conversation explaining he didn’t mean anything that had happened.

“Look, the club’s had the year from hell and it was my fortieth birthday. Think I’m entitled to one night of stupidity. I don’t even remember seeing Shell last night, let alone having her on my lap. But whatever happened, I know two things.” He held up a finger. “First, I was drunk off my ass, which is the only reason I had my hands on her. You know I’d never have touched her if I wasn’t smashed. She’s a fuckin’ kid.”

Across the table, Jig’s eyes widened, and he subtly shook his head once. Then again.

“And two,” Copper said adding a second finger. “I don’t want Shell, have never wanted Shell, and never will want Shell, so just leave it the fuck alone.”

This time Jig cleared his throat and jerked his chin at Copper. Next to him, Zach stared down at his plate as thought it was covered in naked pics of his woman.

“The fuck’s wrong with you, Jig?” Copper looked over his shoulder and nearly choked on his tongue. About three feet away, Shell stood holding a full pot of coffee with a blank stare and flat mouth.

The expression lasted about three seconds before she blinked, licked her lips and plastered the phoniest smile he’d ever seen on her face.

Fuck. He’d really stepped in it. Just because he’d never admit his attraction to her out loud and never act on it sober, it didn’t mean he wanted to hurt her in any way. Shell hadn’t had it easy. Father murdered when she was eleven, pregnant as a teenager, single mother working two exhausting jobs. Last thing he intended was to add to her stress. Fuck, he typically went out of his way to ease her burdens. She was stubborn and independent as could be, bucking at every offer of a handout so he had to get creative in his propositions of help.

“Hey, guys,” she said in a falsely chipper tone.

Zach winced.

Jig shot her an empathetic smile.

“I’m sure after last night you all need some more of this, huh?” She lifted the coffee pot that looked too heavy for her slender arms.

For a second, no one said anything, then Mav held up his mug. “Yeah, sweetie, I need an ocean’s worth of the stuff. How is it you’re looking so gorgeous this morning? You were out as late as the rest of us.”

“I was,” she said, topping him off. “But I didn’t drink my weight in booze.”

Jig snickered. “You have a point there. Though I think we’d have all been fine if we stopped after we drank your weight in booze.”

With a sweet smile for Jig, she filled his cup as well.