Smokey (Hell's Bastards MC 2)

“I trust you.”

“Makes a change.” She offered him a smile, and he fucking loved it. He’d give anything to see that teasing look in her eyes.

“I don’t have any kids. Anywhere. I’ve been with a lot of the club women.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t mean that kind of sharing.”

“I know what you mean.” He sighed. “I don’t have a whole lot to share, to be honest, Ava. The club has been in my blood for a long time, and any life I had before that, it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“No siblings or anything?”

“Nothing. I have no family to offer you. Just me and the club.”

“That’s not a bad offer, Smokey.”

“I don’t know. You deserve to have a big family. I want to give you that.”

Silence fell between them.

He continued to look at the pictures, rearranging the pieces to make up the crib into different orders.

It wasn’t working. The paper had to be wrong.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked.

“I could do with a drink.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She got to her feet and left the room. With her out of the room, he reached into his back pocket. He’d gone shopping during the days she was in the hospital. He pulled out the gold band with a string of diamonds across the top. The ring had cost a fortune, but he wanted to spend every single penny he had on his woman.

Asking her to marry him wasn’t going to be easy. He didn’t have the right words of what to say to her.

Pocketing the ring, he went back to the list of instructions that made no sense to him. Life at the clubhouse had settled down and he’d been able to find the time to come and finally build the furniture for his kid’s arrival. The shack was back up and running. The sickness bug going around was simply that. No drugs. No cause to believe something untoward had happened. Carlos had already told him they weren’t going to have some product for a couple of months as they were dealing with some legal heat breathing down their neck. When it came to Creed of the Twisted Bastards MC, he was keeping his distance. Smokey had been able to close several of the fucker’s businesses and it had caused him to retreat.

There was no sign of them.

He had no doubt Creed and all the Bastards would come out of the woodwork at some point. Until then, he was basking in the few weeks of peace he had to win his woman back.

Ava returned with a steaming mug of coffee and a warm hot chocolate for her.

“Does the smell affect you?” he asked.

“It’s fine. I can deal with it.”

“You don’t have to deal with it.”

Ava lowered herself into a chair that he’d brought up. “It’s fine, babe, drink it.”

Smokey paused and glanced at her. She’d gone a bright shade of red. “Ignore me. I don’t know where that had come from.” She pressed her lips together. “I’m not myself right now.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I liked it.” He sipped the hot liquid. You’re a fucking pussy.

Just because his woman had called him babe. He was on cloud nine.

Totally pussy-whipped and what was more, he didn’t fucking care either.

“Are you going to concede?” she asked.

Smokey pulled out his cell phone and dialed Kinky’s number, waiting for the man to answer. He didn’t have to wait long.

The feminine moan in the background alerted him to the fact his man wasn’t alone. He rolled his eyes and put it on speakerphone.

“Yes, fuck yes. Pound my pussy. Oh, it feels so good. Don’t stop. I love it. I’ve got to have it. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

“What is it, boss?” Kinky asked.

“I need your help, but you sound busy.”

“Oh, he is, Smokey. Tell him to fuck me real good.”

Ava got up and walked out of the room.

“When you’re done, come to Ava’s house. I need your help,” he said, hanging up.

Getting to his feet, he put the cup on the floor and found Ava in her bedroom. She stood beside the window, staring out at the garden. The snow was still thick, but most of the roads had been cleared. They were due another snowstorm, and Ava had already agreed to let him stay close to her.

“That wasn’t anything,” he said. He’d never justified anything to anyone. This was a whole new experience for him.

Ava smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” He stepped toward her.

“Smokey, we don’t have to have this conversation.”

He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her thickening waist. Each day, he struggled to hold her close, not that he got a chance to, but he took every opportunity he could. Resting his hands on her stomach, he pressed his face against hers. “I haven’t been with anyone.”