Fuck this. They had no right nosing into my personal life.
“Yeah, well, I’ve never needed his help. My woman didn’t rat out the club,” I shot back. It was well-known that was why Colt had been sent up to Tacoma. His ex-girlfriend had ratted out the club to the DEA, and he spent the better part of a year in the state pen on weapons charges. “And before you ask, she ain’t my woman.”
Colt gave me a stony look. He and I had always been friends, and this was the first time I’d ever attacked him. I ran my fingers through my hair.
“I know you’re hurting.” Tate patted me on the back. “You want your kid safe and this whole mess taken care of. But fucking Englestein’s daughter is just gonna complicate things for the entire club. If shit goes bad, we might lose the best lawyer in the U.S. and our patch-in with the Horde.”
“I voted to join a club. I’m not going to live in fear that the Horde won’t approve of how I live my fucking life.” I poured out the remnants of my beer and threw the cup in the trash can. “Enjoy your party. I’m going home.”
Chapter Sixteen
Skeeter
We filed out of the meeting room and headed for the bar. There was no new business, so we made it through the club meeting in half the time. Since it was just a regular night, no one else had been invited for a party. I was surprised to see Krista pouring drinks. She used to tend bar—and tend other needs—here at the club before she and Colt hooked up. They must have gotten a sitter for the night.
“You want another one, Skeet?” Krista offered me a cold longneck. “How’s it going with Christophe? You need any help with him?”
She was a good woman.
“Probably.” I shrugged. “Gotta get custody first.”
Shit. I was so focused on getting custody, I didn’t really know what would happen after that. It couldn’t all be Christmas morning at my folks’ house. There would be school and weekends and maybe baseball practice. Shit. I needed to think about everything.
I felt a little bit of panic in my chest, and I turned to Krista. “I’ll probably need a lot of help.” We both laughed.
“Hey, man.” Colt walked up and clapped me on the shoulder.
“I was hoping to talk to you about a pillion for my bike,” I said.
Colt grinned. “Sure, I got one back at home. If you want it, it’s yours. Gonna give the kid a ride around the block?”
I nodded. Fuck. The extra seat should be for my kid.
“I ain’t had much experience with kids. What do I do with him?” I asked. “Take him to the park and shit? What do kids like to do?”
Colt shrugged. “Park is good. Mostly, though, they just like it when you pay attention to them. Like what he likes. You’ll get it.”
“For example, Colt learns every step of Becky’s dance routines, and they practice together.” Krista grinned from behind the bar. “Wanna show the guys?”
“Don’t you go telling my secrets, woman.” He tried to make it sound like a warning, but they both ended up laughing.
I looked between the two of them. Happy, talking about their kid. Fuck. I wanted that with Miri and Christophe. It wasn’t gonna happen, so I needed to stop fantasizing about this bullshit. I’d tried to take her on a fucking date and ended up telling her that she was my second damn choice because I couldn’t take Christophe.
“Anyway.” Colt turned to me. “You wanna follow me back to the house for that extra seat?”
The extra seat that wasn’t for Miri.
“Yeah, I do.” I checked my pocket for my keys. “Hey, I left my keys and phone inside. Meet you out by the bikes.”
I went back to the chapel, where I’d left my phone in the basket. When I picked up my cell, I realized that Miri’s office had called just after four o’clock and left a message. I hoped for a minute that maybe she wanted a date. But as I listened to the voicemail, it was obvious this was business. I had an appointment with the county, Children’s Administration. Tomorrow I would become a foster parent.
* * *
I followed Colt back to his place. Krista was on the back of his bike with her arms wrapped around him as they rode. I felt like a fucking voyeur, but I watched them anyway. What would it feel like to have Miri behind me?
We pulled into the driveway, and Colt helped Krista off the bike, then she disappeared into the house. Colt and I headed for the garage, where he kept all his spare parts.
“You want a beer or something? Krista had the girls over earlier tonight, and they made cookies,” Colt asked as he handed me a box to look through. “They’re damn good cookies.”
“No thanks, man. I’m not hungry.” We sorted through in silence, looking for the extra seat. I’d been on my own for so long, I had no idea what it would be like to live with a woman. Someone who made cookies.
“You like playing house? Krista, the kid?” I asked.
“Better than I could have ever imagined.” Colt stared hard at me. “You thinking of the lawyer?”
The lawyer Colt and Tate had decided was a bad idea. I shrugged and grabbed another box of parts. “Naw, it’s a bad idea anyway. She’s my lawyer and all.”
I fucking hated that Colt and Tate were right. Dating my lawyer, the daughter of the club’s counsel, was a bad idea. But, shit, when I had my arm around her at family night, it had felt so right.
“You sure?” He set down his box and took a sip of his beer. “I know Tate and I came down hard on you the other night, but you were fucking happy as shit, at least until the end of the night. What happened?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.” I focused on my box of parts. “I said the wrong damn thing the other night. I just opened my fucking mouth like a damn couillon.”
“A what?” Colt looked up.
I translated. “A fool.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I said a number of dumb things to Krista before we got together. It happens—you just gotta fix it.”
I shook my head and confessed it all. “I was just chasing a pipe dream anyway. A lawyer ain’t gonna hang out with no redneck biker.”
Colt rolled his eyes. “Damn, you got it bad. You kissed her yet?”
“Christ, man,” I muttered. I stared down at my box of parts. “No. I haven’t kissed her yet, and I ain’t going to. It’s a bad idea, and you and Tate don’t want me to, so case closed.”
“Let’s just say that I don’t always agree with Tate, and I’ve been in the same spot.” He polished off his beer and set it on the toolbox. “My suggestion is to kiss the lady lawyer and see how it goes. Or go find Asia and get the other one outta your head.
“Here ya go.” He pulled a pillion seat out of the box and handed it to me. “Kiss her, put her on the back of your bike, or go back to fucking whores. Those are your options.”
“Who knew you were such a hopeless romantic?” I laughed.
“Asshole.” Colt punched my arm.
As I rode home, I thought of the scenarios that Colt had laid out. I could just go find Asia for a quickie, somewhere that my kid wouldn’t notice. Nice. Clean. Uncomplicated. Miri wouldn’t be like that at all. It would be exponentially more complicated with her. There would be emotions, expectations, and responsibilities on both sides.
As the miles disappeared underneath my tires, I realized I wanted the complication. I wanted the love and the caring for each other. I just needed to fix the stupid shit I’d said at the party.
I didn’t know if she wanted me, and that was the part that hurt the most. I wanted her to see me as more than just a lay. And wasn’t that a bitch? That’s how I’d judged just about every woman for the last ten years.
I felt around back for the extra seat on my bike. Christophe or Miri, no matter what, I was ready.
Chapter Seventeen
Miri
My heels clicked on
the linoleum as I walked down the hallway of the county building. Jean Luc and I had a meeting with Children’s Administration for him to become a foster parent. I was exactly on time—and that’s how I planned it. No uncomfortable small talk before the meeting. I didn’t want to hear anything more about how I was simply there to fill a void. It was going to be all professional from here on out.
The caseworker assigned to intake, Pamela Greaves, was waiting for us as I walked up. Jean Luc had beat me there and was already talking to her. Pamela showed us into her office.
“Thank you for meeting with us so quickly,” I said. Jean Luc and I sat in the two chairs in front of her desk.
“No problem, Ms. Englestein. Jean Luc and I were just having a lovely chat.” She smiled at Jean Luc. “Are we ready to start?”
I nodded. Becoming a foster parent was a little like getting a security clearance. Lots of forms and a thorough background check.
“My client is working through a private custody dispute,” I explained. “In the event the custodial caretaker abandons the child, we would like to ensure that Mr. Devaneaux is properly cleared to become a foster parent until the question of paternity is settled.”
Pamela raised her eyebrows and looked from me to Jean Luc. “A little unusual, but not unheard of.” She leaned over to get some papers out of a drawer. I gasped. Both Jean Luc and I got an excellent view down her shirt. If it happened again, I would definitely tell her.
“Normally, you take the forms home and fill them out yourself, but why don’t we do that together?” She batted her eyelashes at Jean Luc, and it hit me. She was flirting. The accidental view down her shirt wasn’t a mistake. Pamela was looking for a date.
“That would be great, Pamela. I really appreciate that.” Jean Luc smiled, but at least he wasn’t taking Pamela’s bait. Or was he? I couldn’t be sure.
I stewed. Pamela smiled and played with a lock of her blonde hair. My stomach twisted. She was flirting with him. I strangled my pencil. Well, what had I been expecting after I fled the party on Saturday? I wasn’t even second choice anymore.
My knuckles started to ache, so I released my grip on my pencil. He should flirt with her. She was pretty, he was pretty. Handsome, I corrected myself. He was handsome and hot.
“Are we ready to start?” She rattled off the usual questions: name, address, date of birth.
“Occupation?” she chirped.
I couldn’t have her put “biker” down on any forms that would be filed with the county. They’d automatically label him as a criminal.
“Skip that question,” I answered for him. “It’s not necessary to the form.”
“Artist. I’m an artist.” He looked at me and gave me a tight smile. “I have my own business.”
“Of course. Small business owner, art.” Pamela made a big show of writing that down. “We’ll need three years of your tax returns.”
“Yeah, sure.” He looked at me and frowned. “I ain’t got nothing to hide.”
I slouched in my chair. I’d pretty much just assumed he was a criminal and then announced it to Pamela. He didn’t deserve the snap judgment I’d made. Instead of being professional, I’d probably made the breach between us even worse.
Pamela continued through the form, and I sat silently. I’d already insulted him once—no need to open my mouth again.
After they finished, I cleared my throat. “So, that’s it? Just the background check now?” I asked.
“Yes. I’ll call you when I get the results,” Pamela responded in a clipped tone. Then she leaned over toward Jean Luc and smiled. “Thanks for coming all the way down to see me.” She slid her business card over the desk to him. “Feel free to call if you have any questions. I’ll be handling this case personally. As soon as the background check comes in, I’ll make a trip out to your place. Make sure everything looks good.”
He grinned at her. “You’re welcome at my place any time.”
A little cry escaped my throat, like I was being strangled. He was flirting back. I coughed to cover up the desperate noise I made. He was just looking for someone to fill the void. Just because I had dreams of happily ever after didn’t mean he had any responsibility to me.
“Thanks for seeing us today, Pamela. I’ve got to run.” I turned to Jean Luc. I could only be professional for so long before I made a fool out of myself. It was best to just cut it short and leave now. “Sheena already made the appointment for me to do a home check to make sure you’re ready, so I’ll be at your place tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”
My heels clicked fast as I fled down the hall. The last thing I wanted was to see Pamela and Jean Luc flirting some more. Maybe she was asking him out. I imagined her leaning over and showing him her breasts again.
“Miriam!” Jean Luc called from behind me.
I picked up speed, trying to lose him. If I could just get to the car, I wouldn’t have to talk to him.
“Miri!” He was closer, and there was no way I could outrun him. We’d proven that in the parking garage.
I slowed down, and he caught up to me. “You okay?” he asked. “You were a little short in there.”
“Just a word of warning.” I wrenched open my car door. “You shouldn’t date your foster care coordinator. It’s not a good idea.”
“I don’t want to date my foster care coordinator,” he said. “I want to date my lawyer.”
“You do?” I froze, then whispered, “I’m your lawyer.”
“Yeah, I know.” He reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it against the warm leather on his chest. “I know I said some stupid stuff at the party. I just didn’t want to come on too strong, scare you away. I just can’t get you out of my head.”
“Oh.” It came out as a squeak. He had been thinking of me, and now my heart was beating so fast I thought it might burst.
He leaned in. I felt his breath against my cheek, and my heart began to pound. Looking up at him, I searched his honey-colored eyes. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he spoke.
“Next time, when they ask me about my job...” His voice dropped to a low timbre as he gave my hand a squeeze. “Let me answer, and let them judge. That’s what this is all about, right? Them judging me to make sure I’m fit to be a father? Let them judge. I just can’t have you judging me.”
“You’re right,” I breathed. I leaned into him—I had to. My entire body was melting. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”
“Miri.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. I closed my eyes and felt his lips on mine. They were warm and soft, but his beard tickled my chin. Not that I had kissed many guys in my life, but usually they took the lead. When Jean Luc didn’t move, I ran my tongue over his bottom lip. I was devastated when he broke the kiss and stepped back.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, touching my lips.
He ran his fingers through this hair and frowned. “No, not at all.” He smiled and put his hands on my shoulders. “I really like you, and I really want to date you, and part of me wants to take this much further than a kiss right now. I’m afraid of going too fast and ruining it.”
“I think that’s the first time a guy has ever said that.” I laughed. “I’ll confess, I haven’t had that much experience with relationships, though.”
“Me neither.” He picked up both of my hands. “I’d like to have you over for dinner tomorrow, after our appointment. What do you say?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. I looked down and tried to hide my smile. Maybe I shouldn’t let on that I was ridiculously happy. “I’d like that.”
Then he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me.
It was our usual hug. He lifted me up, my feet dangled, but this time it felt different. I relished the feeling of my body against his. I shivered in his arms, thinking of what it might be like to be w
ith him that way. I buried my face in his neck.
He put me on my feet and placed a light kiss on my cheek. “All right, well, I’ll see you tomorrow at my place, then?” he asked.
“I can’t wait,” I said.
Chapter Eighteen
Skeeter
I kick-started my bike as I watched her Mercedes leave the lot. Fuck. I’d actually kissed her—and I did it badly. I’d been so crazy worried about rushing her that my kiss had been downright boring. Thank god she still seemed happy. At least she mentioned that she wasn’t experienced in relationships. Maybe she wouldn’t notice my missteps.
Of course, that was assuming that there might even be a future for us. Guys like me didn’t date girls like her. That’s just how it was. Inviting her to dinner after she inspected my house had been a spur-of-the-moment decision on my part. I was sure the guys she usually dated took her to fancy restaurants—I was going to show her my tiny house and maybe barbecue a steak. Shit. It’s not like they would even let me into a fancy restaurant wearing club colors anyway.
Tate wasn’t going to be thrilled, and he might not even let me into the clubhouse if he knew. This was dangerous and could cause me some serious problems with the club, but I would cross that bridge later. All I knew was that not being with her was the worst thing I could imagine right now.
Would she be happy with me? Would she fit in with the club? I lived out every scenario as I rode my bike toward the clubhouse. I’d never wanted to see a woman wearing a vest that said “Property of Skeeter” before. But now that seemed fantastic. I could imagine exactly how it would fit her. The only question was, would she wear it?
What would she expect of me? Fuck. What would her parents think of me? I knew I was getting ahead of myself, but I couldn’t stop my mind from running.
Off to the right, I saw a red-and-white-striped pole. A barbershop. After pulling my bike over, I walked in. The shop was ancient, with mirrors on the walls and Penthouse in the magazine rack. Since I was the only customer, the old guy offered me the chair.
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