“You’re wet,” she protested, and he nodded, giving his hair a shake again.
“Yeah, but I’ve got great shower hair. See?” He shook his hair again, the ends of the slightly long, dark blond locks coming to rest against his cheeks. “Great shower hair. All I have to do is towel it and then shake and I am good to go.”
“But now I’m wet,” she complained, and he laughed.
“You are wet,” he murmured, sliding his knee between her thighs and pressing against her core. “Your clothes are all wet. So wet.” He trailed his tongue down her neck to the collar of her shirt, tugging it gently with his teeth before raising a hand to unbutton the garment. “Drenched. We need to get the wet clothes off you,” he spoke with his lips against her breast. “Can’t have you getting sick on us, eh?”
That was something she found endearing, the way his accent slipped out of him at unguarded moments. Most often it was an ‘eh’, but she caught him in several ‘doncha knows’, and even one ‘there okay’, which until now, she thought was strictly Minnesotan. Laughing, she slipped her palms down his sides to his hips, fingers tracing the curves of his thoughtfully bare ass to pull him in closer.
***
Walking into the clubhouse, DeeDee looked around cautiously. The atmosphere was different; something in the club had shifted in her absence. Seeing Hoss standing near the bar, she walked over, smiling up at him. He had always been a brother and good friend of Winger’s and had helped her navigate through many events since the accident, including the recent shift of leadership within the chapter when Bingo stepped down to focus on his sister’s kids.
He smiled at her, motioning to the prospect for another mug of coffee. “DeeDee,” he said in his deep voice by way of greeting.
“Hey, Hoss,” she responded, thanking the man behind the counter for the coffee. “Anything I need to know before I head out to Slinky’s?”
“Ruby call you?” he asked, and she was surprised he referred to Melanie by Slate’s nickname for her.
“No, should she have?” This kind of questioning made her nervous, because she wasn’t at all sure where he was going with it, so, as always, she answered carefully.
“Looking like she’s Slate’s old lady,” he said bluntly, and she drew in a shaky breath.
“That so?” Casually, she wiped her sweating palms on her jeans. Propping her elbows on the bar, she opted to lace her fingers together, cradling her chin in her hands, leaving the mug sitting on the bar. She knew if she tried to pick up the coffee right now, her hands were trembling so badly she would spill most of it.
“Yeap,” he said, picking up his mug and blowing across the hot liquid. “Couple days ago, they came back off a run and she was wrapped around him. They’ve been joined at the hip since. Looks like a good thing for our girl.” He smiled and sipped his coffee.
She pulled in a breath, not allowing herself to feel relief yet, even if it sounded like it was Melanie’s choice to be with Slate, the man who had quietly pursued her for months. He had given her a choice when he took over as chapter president, granting her wish for stability and status by flagging her as club princess, same as Mica was in Chicago. He had also given her a job around the clubhouse, and together the two things helped to raise her self-confidence immeasurably.
Not long after the accident, Melanie had been hard-used by a man, and she still bore the psychological scars from her time with Demon, the president of a Michigan club. For a long time, DeeDee had been hoping she would be able to put it behind her entirely, but until now, every time it looked like Mel was beginning to recover, something would happen to set her back.
But from the moment Slate showed up at the clubhouse, she knew…she believed he was the one who could help Mel. He was handsome and kind, and she knew her girl was attracted to him. DeeDee’s expectations weren’t just because he was a good man, but more because he had been in love with the girl almost since he laid eyes on her.
“So, where you been, hon?” Hoss sipped his coffee, gaze fixed on her in the mirror behind the bar.
“I was with Jase,” she said, lifting her chin in an unconsciously defiant move.
She was so focused on Hoss the voice that came from her other side startled her. “About damn time, woman,” Tug said with a smile. She jerked, elbow hitting the mug, slopping coffee over the rim onto the bar top.
“He say anything to you about what he’s thinking?” Hoss asked the question casually, making her wonder exactly what the two men had been talking about at the strip club before she walked out of the office.
“What do you mean?” She asked this casually as she took a bar rag from the prospect’s hand, cleaning up her own mess. She always treaded cautiously when questioning club members, not wanting to seem demanding.
“I mean, did he tell you what he’s got planned where you are concerned?” Hoss was being overly patient with her, and she saw Tug’s mustache twitch as he tried to conceal a smile.
“It was just a nice weekend,” she said, and then stopped when both men laughed aloud at her statement. “It was,” she protested. “Nothing more.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, hon.” Hoss pushed his mug back over to the prospect. “Fill 'em up, kid.”
Hearing the dismissal in his voice, she excused herself and went upstairs to the suite, finding Melanie in the middle of packing some of her clothes into a cardboard box. “Hey, sweetie,” she said, turning the girl around for a quick hug. Finding a bright smile on her face, she looked into her clear green eyes and let go of a little more of the worry she had been carrying around.
“You’re happy?” She asked the question casually as she picked up a shirt, her mind going back to her morning with Jase as she folded Melanie’s clothes.
“Yeah, I am,” Melanie said shyly. “He makes me feel safe. He doesn’t rush me or push me.” For someone as broken as Mel, that feeling of safety would be critical for her trust to grow.
A comfortable silence fell between the two women, and it was several minutes before Melanie spoke again. “He says things to me and I believe him. Said he loves me.” She took a breath, looking up at her. “He said it’s forever. ‘For-fucking-ever’.” She smiled and gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I believe him.”
She folded and refolded the shirt, waiting because she knew Melanie wasn’t finished talking. “He calls me Ruby and I like it. A ruby is precious, and that’s how he makes me feel. DeeDee, I think I’ve loved him for a while. I’m his Ruby.”
“I’m glad, baby. No one deserves a happily ever after more than you do. Slate’s a good man. He’s honorable, and he’ll protect you if needed, sweetie. I believe right along with you, because if he said it to you, then it’s true.” She hugged Melanie, softly kissing the top of her head. “Slate’s Ruby, I like the sound of that.”
She helped Ruby move most of her things into Slate’s room, and there was the smallest pang of guilt at not giving up the suite for them. But this had been her space since she moved into the clubhouse, and even though she knew she would depart the clubhouse herself in a few weeks, she hated to leave what had become comfortable. The apartment manager had texted that morning to let her know she could take possession at the first of the month. She had already begun cataloging her belongings in her head, trying to remember all the things packed into boxes in storage, pushing away thoughts of anything that could complicate matters.
***
Several days went by and she kept careful watch, seeing Ruby’s demeanor change, lightening and easing. Her smile made a much more frequent appearance as the young woman relaxed into the new belief that Slate loved and wanted her. DeeDee was thrilled to watch her open up to Slate, but knew that left to her own devices, Ruby would avoid the topic of Demon for as long as possible.
Demon. DeeDee shuddered at the name.
He was the dark shadow in Ruby’s past, and while it was an ugly story, it was one Slate needed to know. She had seen Ruby withdraw into herself before from just a chance question or phrase, and s
he knew their shared bed would hold even more possibilities of terror. Slate had to know what had gone on before in order to understand Ruby. It was the only way to assure he wouldn’t misread her responses, and hopefully they could avoid a catastrophe triggered by a bad reaction.
Pulling all her courage together, DeeDee took a seat in Slate’s office and told him everything. The devastation Melanie suffered after the accident that took her best friend and surrogate father. How she thought she found something worth exploring with a visiting member of the Devil’s Sins, Demon. Talking about Ruby going to Michigan willingly…and then betrayed, kept as a prisoner, brought DeeDee to tears, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Demon.
Demon had isolated Ruby once he had her in Michigan, restrained and terrified her for months, abusing her daily…until she lost value in his game and he finally released her, pregnant. But even that hadn’t been enough for the man, and as a final blow, he had caused her to miscarry the baby while she waited alone for rescue.
From the Rebel members, over the years, DeeDee had overheard stories about the harder side of Slate, but she never truly understood how frightening he could be until that morning. During their conversation, she saw for herself the truth behind the rumors. He was furious at the treatment Ruby suffered, and even though she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her, it was still a terrifying thing to see. He made it clear Ruby was his first priority, but she was certain Demon would be paying for his evil before long.
At the end of their conversation, she braced herself, and using the last of her courage, told him about the apartment, asking what he thought about her moving out of the clubhouse. More than anything, he seemed pleased she wanted to stay on, managing the strip club. When he said they were glad to keep her on, an enormous weight lifted off her shoulders. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how deep the fear ran that the club would think she wasn’t grateful for everything they had done for her, but he put those fears to rest. As she told Slate, it was just time to begin moving on.
***
For the next couple of weeks, every night before bed, she and Jase talked on the phone. She was growing accustomed to laughing and joking with him as he told her about his day and found herself looking forward to the sound of her ringing phone. He had finally bought Road Runner’s bike and was excited about riding it down at the first opportunity so they could take a short run together. It would be a while before he could, because things were beginning to ramp up for his upcoming hockey season. Regular games ran from early October into the middle of April, and the team would be playing two or three games a week, sometimes more. In an effort to soothe him, she reminded him that between the cold and the weather, the time of year wasn’t usually conducive to rides anyway.
His descriptions of the team’s conditioning camp workouts sounded brutal. He sometimes called her while he cooked dinner for himself, and she smiled as she responded to his running commentary, hearing the exhaustion in his voice, but also hearing the determination that so personified him. Lying in bed or on the couch, he fell asleep more than once while they talked. When he did, she stayed on the phone, listening to him breathe for a long time. Remembering the first time he slept beside her would bring a smile to her face before she called his name to wake him, laughing at his sleepy voice as they hung up.
Everything was chaotic with work and in the clubhouse, and there was so much to do that she nearly had given up trying to plan things out, just taking them day-by-day as they came. Frazzled, her nerves kept her on edge, because it was down to less than a week before she moved, and she still wasn’t entirely ready. She began going to the storage building after she got off the phone with Jase in the evening. Exhausted, she would sort through boxes by flashlight until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Finally, she had all the necessities moved to the front, where it would be easy to grab them when moving day came.
Even trying to reserve a rental truck for the move was a disaster. When Hoss overheard her making arrangements, he reached out and plucked the phone from her hand, telling the agent that their services were unneeded. Then he scolded her, “DeeDee, hon. You’re family. We got you, babe. Slate and I already talked about this.”
Aggravated, she rolled her eyes at him and snapped, “I’m capable of organizing the move myself. Getting me out of the clubhouse is not your responsibility, Hoss. Not yours and not the club’s.”
“Capable don’t matter. Hon, you aren’t leaving the family, merely relocating your living space. Now, would you stop giving me shit?” He reached out, cupping the sides of her face with his palms. “Let us. You matter to us. Let us do this.” Leaning in, he kissed her forehead, pressing and holding his lips there for several seconds, the gentle act infused with such love and patience it took her breath away.
“Okay.” With tears in her eyes, she nodded when he pulled back, looking down into her face. She let him see her gratitude for so much more than help with the move, rewarded when his face softened in recognition. Swallowing hard and smiling up at him, she said, “Okay. Thank you.”
Slate and Ruby had moved out of the clubhouse two weeks earlier, and on her moving day, they were both at the apartment bright and early. Ruby boldly directed the members as they trooped in and out, carrying boxes and furniture brought from both the suite at the clubhouse and the storage unit.
DeeDee was standing in the kitchen when she felt an electric charge in the air and instinctively turned, finding Jase standing in the doorway behind her. “Hey,” he said, smiling crookedly, “heard you could use a strong back today.”
“Hey yourself,” she answered him, closing the distance between them quickly and wrapping her arms around his waist. She burrowed her face into his chest as his arms folded around her, holding her securely. Her pleasure at seeing him and being in his arms surprised her. “I didn’t know you were coming. What a lovely surprise.”
“DeeDee, where do you want—” Ruby abruptly stopped talking as she entered the room, her feet dragging to a halt when she saw Jase holding DeeDee.
Turning in his arms, she smiled at the young woman. “Ruby, this is Jase Spencer. Jase, this is Melanie Davidson, my daughter. She’s Slate’s Ruby.”
One arm still around her waist, he thrust out a hand and Ruby looked at it distrustfully, wrinkling her nose before drifting slowly over and offering her own for a quick handshake. Jase said, “I’m glad to meet you, Ruby. I’ve heard so many good things about you from DeeDee.”
She silently nodded at him and took a step back as Slate walked into the room, coming up behind her and cradling her into his side. “Jase,” he nodded as he spoke, and Jase offered him a chin lift and a gruff, “Hey.”
“Ruby, baby, where are we putting the desk?” Slate kissed the side of her head and smiled over at DeeDee, winking. He could have simply asked her, but Ruby had put herself in charge of the move and he was always looking for ways to build her self-confidence, even with such small things as furniture arrangement.
Ruby shrugged and Slate pulled her into the other room telling her, “Show me.” DeeDee smiled. He was patient and good with Ruby, and his adoration became more apparent every day.
She laughed as Jase’s arms tightened around her, going quiet when he asked, “What am I?”
“What do you mean?” she asked carefully, not sure what the question meant, but suddenly…intensely afraid of getting it wrong.
“You introduced us and told me Ruby was your daughter. But what am I to you?” He didn’t seem upset, only curious. “If you had to label me, what would I be?”
“I—Jase, what do you want to be?” This was dangerous ground, the footing treacherous, and this entire topic made her nervous. Realistically, she knew they had only been together a handful of times over two weekends. And even though they frequently spoke on the phone in the interim, she had studiously ignored any desire to dissect their relationship, not wanting to clarify or qualify things. Foolishly thinking she could skate along for a while yet, she hadn’t anticipated him sh
owing up today, hadn’t thought she would have to introduce him to her family.
“I’m a little old to be a boyfriend.” He mused, “I could be your lover, but that might be awkward in some settings. Plus, it just doesn’t have the relationship validation I’m looking for. What about calling me your man?”
“If you’re my man, does that make me your woman? Nuh-uh, I don’t think I like that, oh, caveman,” she teased him gently, hoping to steer him away from the language club members used for their significant others. He wouldn’t understand that being someone’s old lady was like being married.
“You are mine,” he growled softly next to her ear. “My woman, my lover, my playmate, my sweetheart, my main squeeze. You’re my girlfriend, my partner, my plus one, my steady…I got a million of ‘em, baby. I can do this all night.”
Laughing, she turned to face him, tipping her head to the side, joining in with his joking as she said, “My confidante, my companion, my beau. Any of those strike your man-fancy?”
Nuzzling her neck, he lowered his head to kiss her collarbone softly. “My cherished, my treasure, my fantasy come true. My darling, my one and only, mon amour, ma belle, je t’aime, DeeDee. Je t’aime. Sais que je t’aime.”
“I don’t know what you just said,” she rose up onto her toes to whisper in his ear. “But I’m drenched now. That is so sexy, Jase.”
Laughing hard, he cupped her ass with his big palms, pulling her tightly into his groin, letting her feel the erection pressing against the seam of his jeans. “I can’t wait to christen the bed with you, ma belle. Let’s get the rest of this stuff moved in and we’ll get you unpacked.” He kissed her softly. “Then I get you.”
***
Jase threw himself backwards onto the middle of the bed, bouncing on the mattress with arms outstretched. “And with the final box broken down and stacked for disposal, I pronounce that the move-in process is now officially complete. Woooo!” He punched his fists into the air, laughing. “Woooo, baby.”
DeeDee laughed at him. She didn’t know where he found the energy to be enthusiastic; she was exhausted. “I never asked when you have to be back in Chicago, Jase. You weren’t planning on riding tonight, were you?” She looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw it was nearly midnight. “I hope not. It’s so late.”
Jase Page 13
