Saint (Dixie Reapers MC 12)

by Harley Wylde

  She held onto me tightly, then pushed away, putting space between us. Sofia looked over at the door, a look of resignation crossing her face and a spark of anger lighting up her eyes. “You should go,” she said.

  Go? But… “You want me to leave?”

  “Yes. It’s for the best.”

  I stared at her, willing her to look at me again. I knew I’d fucked up, but I hadn’t expected this reaction from her. I’d hoped she’d understand, that she’d forgive me. Had I lost her because I’d been too damn scared of losing both her and Delia?

  “Sofia, I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I was trying to keep you both safe.”

  Her jaw tightened and she turned her back to me. It felt like someone was ripping my heart out of my damn chest. Even though it was clear my brothers had tried to hide her from me, it wasn’t until this moment that I realized I might have lost her forever. I got off the bed and slowly walked toward the hall, stopping in the doorway. Glancing at her one more time, I saw the tension in her body and knew that pressing the issue wouldn’t get me anywhere right now.

  I went back out to my bike, but Wire stopped me on the porch.

  “Give her some time,” he said. “She thinks that pushing you away is what’s best. Sound familiar? You tried to keep her and Delia safe, and maybe yourself too. Now it’s her turn to keep everyone safe. At least, that’s what she thinks she’s doing.”

  Yeah, too fucking familiar, but I didn’t understand what Sofia was saving me from. Or was she trying to save herself from more heartache? “What did you mean she’s not exactly sick?” I asked.

  “That’s for her to tell you. I shouldn’t have even let you in the house, but I’d hoped that seeing you might change her mind. Seems that woman is every bit as stubborn as you.”

  Change her mind. That didn’t sound good.

  “I can’t fight what I can’t see,” I said. “How do I win her back when I don’t even know what I’m up against?”

  “Part of what you’re fighting is the wall she built when you threw her out. I know you didn’t really want her gone, but she didn’t. She thought you didn’t want her, regretted what happened between you, and now she’s determined to give you the space you wanted. She said she understood why you did it, but that doesn’t mean it hurt her any less.”

  “I don’t want fucking space. I just want her.”

  Wire nodded. “Maybe you need to show her that. Don’t tell her. Words can only do so much, Saint. Man the fuck up.”

  Show her. How the fuck did you show… Oh. I ran a hand through my hair. Flowers. Dates. All that shit I’ve never done. Watched enough of those damn romantic movies with my twin, Kayla, that I at least had an idea. Thank God she had Preacher to torture with that shit now.

  “Keep her here. I’ll be back in an hour.” I hesitated thinking of everything I needed to do. “Maybe longer. Just don’t let her leave.”

  Wire smiled and went back inside. Guess that was the answer he’d wanted, which meant he really didn’t have the least bit of interest in Sofia. I didn’t see how he could have her under his roof and not want her. She had to be the sweetest, sexiest woman I’d ever met. I got on my bike and stopped by Bull’s house to ask them to keep Delia a bit longer, maybe even overnight.

  “You found Sofia,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Yeah, but it seems I have some making up to do, which means I need to know that Delia’s taken care of for a little bit.”

  He nodded. “We can do that. The kids love her. Leave the door unlocked and Darian will head over to get some clothes for Delia.”

  “I have a few errands to run, then I’ll need to shower before I go back to Wire’s place.”

  “Trying to convince Sofia to go anywhere with you won’t be easy. And I’d suggest taking the SUV.”

  “You don’t think she liked riding on my bike?” I asked, my brow furrowed. I’d looked forward to feeling her wrapped around me as we rode through town.

  “Just trust me. Take the SUV.”

  I nodded and thanked him again before getting back on my bike. I left the compound and went to the men’s shop in town. Since I’d never done the dating thing, all I owned were T-shirts and jeans. I wasn’t giving up my jeans, or my cut, but I did want to get a nice shirt for my date with Sofia. The woman who rushed over to help me nearly made me turn around and run back out of the store. I’d seen that eager look before, and I didn’t think it was the sale she was drooling over.

  “What can I help you with today?” she asked, her smile overly bright.

  “I need a dress shirt.” I looked around the store, but I honestly didn’t even know where to start. I’d never seen so many colors or patterns.

  “Do you want a collar?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” I narrowed my eyes as I looked around again. “I think so. Never really worn a dress shirt before.”

  “I bet you’ll look fantastic in one.” She practically purred and I turned to look at her again, just in time to see her scanning my body with a hungry expression. Fucking great. Why couldn’t it have been some guy or little old lady working here? At least if a guy hit on me, I could just tell him I didn’t play for that team and he’d be fine. But turn down a woman like this one and all hell could break loose. I’d seen her type plenty of times.

  “Maybe I could just look around a bit and see if there’s anything I like.” I edged away from her and started toward a wall of shirts in a variety of colors and styles. I didn’t lose the blonde-haired pit bull, much to my chagrin. She stuck to me like fucking glue, even had the audacity to reach out and run her hand down my arm. I moved out of her reach, but determination flashed in her eyes. Fuck. Me.

  “Look, lady, I appreciate the help, but I just want to look without you slobbering over me like a bitch in heat.” I glared at her. “Unless you want me to call the store manager, stop touching me. I’m not interested. I’m picking out a damn shirt so I can take my woman on a date. I’m taken.”

  Her lips thinned and her nostrils flared. I seriously expected her to lose her shit, but a throat cleared from across the room and she immediately scurried off. A man in a charcoal suit came over, holding out his hand.

  “I apologize for Bitsy. I’m Charles Bowman. The owner of the store.”

  I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bowman. Might want to put your employee on a leash.”

  He smiled faintly. “She’s been warned several times. This was her last strike. While you browse a moment, I’ll take care of Bitsy, then we’ll find you the perfect shirt.”

  He walked off, or more like glided away, and pulled Bitsy into the back room. I could hear her screaming and cussing as I flipped through some of the shirts. I hadn’t even realized men’s shirts could have so many different styles. Just the variety of collars was enough to make me anxious. I’d thought I’d just walk in, find a shirt my size, and walk out. This looked way more difficult. Should have just gone to one of the big box stores. It’s where I usually bought my jeans, and those places seemed far less complicated than this.

  Mr. Bowman returned, his hands behind his back. “Do you have a particular type of shirt, or color, that you need?”

  “I honestly have no idea. I just wanted something nice so I could take Sofia out to dinner. All I own are T-shirts, but I wanted tonight to be special.”

  He nodded and pulled out a measuring tape. “May I?”

  I held out my arms. “Go for it.”

  After he took my measurements and asked a few more questions about my plans for the evening, and what I would be wearing with the shirt, he pulled out a few and showed me to a dressing room. My favorite was a blue-gray with a pointed collar that didn’t have pockets. The two I’d tried with pockets felt strange under my cut. The blue-gray also allowed for more movement, which was ideal in case trouble found us. Not that I thought trouble was lurking around every corner. With Sofia’s dad and his men gone, things had been quiet the last few weeks.

  “That one?” Mr. Bowman asked
as I stepped out of the dressing room with the shirt clutched in my hand.

  “I like the feel and fit of this one the best.”

  “Since you plan to wear your jeans and your… cut, I’m going to suggest going without a tie. However, should you ever need one, or more shirts or a full suit, please come by again and I’ll be happy to assist you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bowman.”

  He rang up the shirt, even gave me a discount for having to deal with Bitsy, and then I was on my way to the next stop. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a decent haircut, or had my beard professionally trimmed. The last month it had grown a bit wild, and I wasn’t the best with a set of clippers or scissors. The barber shop was nearly empty when I went inside, and old Mr. Smithers waved me over to a vacant chair. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Saint,” he said.

  I eased down onto the chair and put my feet on the silver bar across the front. Even though Mr. Smithers had about three other men working for him, he’d been cutting my hair since Torch had brought me here when I was seventeen. He’d never let anyone else help me. When Mr. Smithers made his way over to me, he turned my head one way, then another. “Been a while, boy. You’re looking more like a mountain man these days.”

  I laughed and had to agree.

  “Beard trim and haircut?” Mr. Smithers asked.

  “Yes, sir. I have a date tonight so I need to look my best.”

  The man froze and stared at me. “My, my. In all the years you been coming here, not once have you ever had a date. Not sure if I should pray it goes well, or pray that young lady runs the other way.”

  “Definitely the first one.”

  He nodded. “Well, let’s get you cleaned up and presentable so you don’t scare her off.”

  Mr. Smithers took his time, and when he was finished, I had to admit I looked like a completely different guy. My beard was close-cropped and my hair was neat, the way I usually kept it. I paid the bill, gave him a good tip, and then I was off to the final stop before heading home to shower and get ready for what I hoped would be an amazing date with Sofia. If she agreed to go anywhere with me. By the time I got back to the compound, I found a note from Darian that she’d already stopped by and she wished me luck. At least someone other than Wire was on my side. Isabella had made it sound like everyone was pissed at me for what happened with Sofia.

  I locked the front door and went straight to my bathroom. I tossed the sack with my new shirt onto the bed, then stripped out of my clothes. After I had the shower running, the water hot enough, steam filled the bathroom, I stepped under the spray and let the heat seep into my muscles. I was nervous as hell about tonight. If I fucked this up, I could lose Sofia.

  I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. Blindly grabbing the soap, I started to wash. I’d always been an Irish Spring kind of guy, and never had any complaints, but I was starting to think I should have bought something special for tonight. There was no guarantee the night would end with Sofia coming home with me, but I could hope. An image of her flashed in my mind, her legs spread as she begged me to fuck her. My dick was so damn hard I ached.

  The first stroke of my cock had me groaning. I’d jerked off more times than I could count since the day I’d taken Sofia, and every damn time I was left unsatisfied. Didn’t stop me from getting off, but it was nowhere near the same as being inside her. I tightened my grip and tugged on my cock faster and harder. Bending my knees a little, I reached between my legs with my free hand and squeezed my balls. Fuck!

  “Sofia.” I bit my lip, pictured her on her knees, my cock in her mouth, and I fucking exploded. I opened my eyes and gasped as my cum jetted onto the tiled wall and my heart hammered in my chest.

  My dick was still semi-hard, but at least I didn’t have a raging hard-on at the moment. Maybe I could control myself enough not to sport wood the second I saw the woman I couldn’t get off my mind. I finished my shower, dried off, and tied the towel around my waist. I went through my usual ritual of brushing my teeth, putting on deodorant and a little cologne, then styled my hair. I grabbed the beard butter and worked some into my beard before combing it. Even though there was less of it right now, I still wanted to keep it soft so it wouldn’t scratch Sofia.

  Chapter Six

  Sophia

  I didn’t know what it meant that Saint had come for me. When my sisters had gone back home with the Hades Abyss, with the men they both loved, I’d thought Saint would come take me home. He hadn’t. I’d come to stay with Wire before Violeta and Luciana were even gone, and while I appreciated having a place to live, it didn’t feel like home. I felt like an intruder, even though he was very sweet to me. To make things worse, I couldn’t stop crying. And when I wasn’t crying, I was so damn angry. My emotions were all over the place. Doctor Myron had assured me a great deal of it was pregnancy hormones. It seemed my levels were off the charts, and I could tell he was a bit concerned about me. I’d been told to remain as stress-free as possible, and poor Wire was walking on eggshells to make that happen.

  None of it did any good. Without Saint, I was miserable. No, what made me miserable was knowing that he didn’t want me. The day we’d shared together had been wonderful, but he’d changed the moment his daughter came home. I’d understood, still did, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He was the only man I’d ever cared about, had ever trusted, and it didn’t seem fair my sisters would get a happy-ever-after and I wouldn’t. Saint had been up front and told me that he couldn’t give me a fairy-tale ending, but I’d still hoped things would be different. Then he’d come here…

  I hadn’t wanted to push him away. I’d wanted to kiss him, beg him to take me home with him. It had been hard not to turn to him, to hold on tight and not let go when he’d come into my room. Hearing his voice had been both wonderful and awful. I was scared to get close, to believe he really wanted me. Even if that was true, would he feel the same when he discovered I was pregnant? I was still worried about what would happen when he found out. He’d think I’d lied to him, even though I hadn’t. I truly hadn’t thought I could get pregnant. Torch had pointed out that Saint still should have worn a condom, but I couldn’t help but feel responsible. Didn’t matter if I was or not, I felt like I’d unintentionally misled him.

  But he was here. He’d come for me. The way I’d reacted had forced him to walk away, but I didn’t think Saint would give up, not if he truly wanted me. The thought of seeing him again made a part of me giddy with anticipation. The other part, the part that cautioned he would be upset about the baby, made me want to refuse him entrance. I couldn’t do that since this wasn’t my house, but I could lock myself in my room.

  Wire knocked on the open door and I motioned for him to enter. He was good about not just walking into the bedroom, even though it was his home. He treated this space as mine, no matter how temporary it would be for me to stay with him. Eventually, I’d have to figure something out. I couldn’t live with him forever. With my father out of the picture, I could go anywhere, start my life over, and not have to fear I would be snatched off the streets and taken back to Colombia.

  “You doing okay?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Guess I should have asked if you wanted to see him before I sent him in. I just thought maybe if the two of you talked, then you could work things out.”

  “It’s not that simple, Wire, and you know it.”

  “Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t. You’ll never know if you don’t tell him. He needs to know you’re pregnant, Sofia. It’s not fair to him or that baby. Or Delia for that matter. Don’t you think she’ll be excited to find out she’s going to be a big sister?”

  Now that was a low blow. He knew how much I adored Delia.

  “That’s hardly fair.”

  Wire smiled faintly. “Sweetheart, fair doesn’t have a damn thing to do with it. You know it’s wrong to keep that baby a secret. The entire club is hiding your pregnancy from Saint, and he’s going to fucking explode when he finds
out. He’ll be angry with you for keeping it from him, but he’ll be beyond pissed at the rest of us. We’re his family, and we’re supposed to be on his side. Not yours.”

  I swallowed hard and looked away. I hadn’t thought about the position I’d placed all of them in when I’d asked them to keep my secret. It was wrong of me, and I really didn’t want Saint to be mad at them. I was just so damn scared. If he took my baby away, I didn’t know what I’d do. Everyone insisted he’d never do something like that, and the Saint I got to know very briefly the day we made love wouldn’t. But the Saint I’d seen since that time? I didn’t know what the version of him would do.

  “Sofia, you know that the club only wants what’s best for you. It’s just that I believe what’s best is Saint. It’s obvious you care about him, and the guy who showed up here ready to knock my head off? That guy is crazy about you. I get the feeling he was under the impression I was keeping you. Permanently. He rode up and asked if I’d claimed you. A guy who doesn’t care wouldn’t act like that.”

  “What if I tell him and he wants the baby but doesn’t want me?” I asked softly.

  Wire moved farther into the room and sank onto the edge of the mattress. He reached over and took my hand, causing me to look up and hold his gaze. There was kindness in his eyes, and a bit of understanding.

  “He wants you, Sofia. Trust me. The kid was seriously ready to kick my ass over the right to take you home.”

  “Kid?” I bit my lip to stop the smile that fought to break free. “He’s hardly a kid.”

  “He’s twenty-seven. Eleven years younger than me. To me, he’s a kid, and so are you.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” I asked.

  His eyebrows arched in surprise. “No. I thought I was when I was a kid. Younger than you are now. I was wrong.”

  “If you think I’m a kid, and Saint is a kid, it’s going to be pretty damn funny if you end up falling for someone a lot younger than you. That seems to be a common theme around here. Torch looks a lot older than Isabella. Darian said Bull was around her dad’s age. Flicker is older than Sarge, but he’s with Sarge’s daughter. Word of advice. If you do find the woman of your dreams, and she’s a decade younger than you, or more, don’t call her a kid. And if you do, then I hope she gives you a black eye for being stupid.”