“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get another drink,” I tell them all. I’m about to step away when Knuckles stops me with a barely there touch on my arm, sending a shiver up my spine.
“I’ll get it. What do you want?” Knuckles asks me in that deep tone of his, the silver in his ears catching my eyes. In any other situation, I’d have taken him up on the offer, but this drink is my escape plan. Besides, no good decisions are made after a good-looking man offers to get you a drink. Men rarely do it out of common courtesy. Maybe he wants to talk to me, I don’t know, or maybe he’s just looking for a little action after the party. No matter his reasoning, I’m not going to engage.
“It’s okay; I can get it,” I tell him, offering him a small smile. That smile hopefully says, I’m fine, no hard feelings, but I can get my own damn drink. I look to Erin. “Do you want anything else, birthday girl?”
“I’m okay, thanks,” she says, looking between the two of us. “I’m going to go check on Eden. I can see Rogue talking to her, and I think she’s about to faint.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ace chimes in.
Eden is Erin’s younger sister but she has a more modest, gentle aura about her. I can just imagine how overwhelmed she must be talking to a man like Rogue.
I grin, nod, and quickly make my exit, heading to the bar and taking a long, deep breath. “Can I have a vodka, lemon and lime, please?” I ask the young gentleman manning the bar. I glance behind me and see Knuckles approaching. I turn back to the man and say, “Make it a double.”
The man smirks and ducks his head, getting to the business of making my much-needed drink.
“So what’s your deal?” Knuckles asks, studying me thoughtfully. “Every time Erin talks about you, she says she admires how independent you are.”
I smile at the way Erin thinks about me. If that is what comes to mind first for her, I can’t be doing such a bad job as an older cousin.
“I don’t know how to reply to that,” I tell him honestly. “Is being independent a bad thing?” Because for me, it’s something I’ve strived to be. I don’t like to rely on anyone, and I’ve made it so I never have to.
“No,” he replies instantly. “It’s admirable.”
“But?” I ask, pursing my lips, knowing there’s more to come.
I’ve heard it all before. The truth is, some men are intimidated by me. I know that sounds egotistical, but they’ve actually said that to me before. Some men don’t want a woman who is too strong, too capable. They want to be needed, wanted, and they like being in charge. I can’t change who I am though, and I won’t. I’m sure there’s a man out there for me who will be proud of the woman I am and not want to tone me down to make themselves feel more like a man.
He laughs, a deep, rich sound. “But . . . I don’t think it’s the main adjective people should use when trying to describe someone. Being independent is what you do and how you act, not who you are as a person.”
I must admit, his comment surprises me. I hate those kinds of comments that are down on feminism. What he said actually had some depth, even if I don’t necessarily agree with him. I sigh and deflect, since I don’t know how to respond. It works every time. “Is this you being drunk and trying to have a deep and meaningful conversation?”
“I’ve only had one drink,” he shoots back, nodding to the bar. “And yours is waiting for you. Jasper makes some fuckin’ good drinks.”
I pick up my glass, taking a long sip. “Thanks, Jasper!” I call out to my hero, who has already moved on and is making someone else’s glass of salvation. He lifts his head and flashes me a charming, very amused smile.
“So you only like men who bring you alcohol? I’ll have to remember that.”
I bring my attention back to the delicious, completely infuriating man before me. “Are you insinuating I don’t like men who don’t?”
Because it sounds like he is.
And if that’s true, I don’t know how he’s gotten this impression that I don’t like men, but he’s not the first to think this. On the contrary, I love men. From their smell to the power in their touch, there’s no feeling better than when you have that chemistry and connection with a good man.
“You didn’t seem to like the idea of me offering to get you a drink. Don’t like chivalry either?”
Okay, now he’s just being an asshole.
“Because I wanted to get my own drink?” I ask him in a dry tone. “Well, aren’t you a charmer. If you must know, I don’t let strangers—especially strange men—get my drinks. We live in a time where people can put drugs in a drink. If I recall, I think something like that happened to my cousin here. So excuse me for being cautious about my drinks, especially within these walls.”
Does he think I’m an idiot? These are modern times and women have to be cautious nowadays. Besides, I heard Erin’s crazy story about being poisoned. I’m not taking any chances.
And I know his type.
He’s an alpha male, used to getting his way, and assumes his word is law and will be listened to at all times. He’s demanding and in control. Used to taking charge. Has a woman ever told him no? I sincerely doubt it. He’s a dangerous mix of confident and good-looking in a rough way, and let’s not forget his place here in the MC.
He’s the fucking trifecta of the male race.
And he knows it.
“Whoa,” he replies with his hands in the air. “Just trying to understand you,” he adds with a casual shrug. “Don’t mean any offense.”
“And why would you want to try to understand a woman you’ve just met, Knuckles?” I ask, putting emphasis on his name. I can only imagine how he got the road name, and as I run my gaze over his scarred hands, I know I’m right.
He’s a brute.
And he’s standing here and judging me, trying to pass it off as curiosity.
You know what this man needs?
A filter.
“Maybe because the woman in question is the first one who has caught my eye in years,” he admits, gaze unwavering, pinning me with its intensity. “And of course I’m fucking up my first impression.” He shakes his head as if he’s in a fog.
My eyes flare, taken aback by his reply and his stark honesty.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” I say, tone gentling.
I don’t know what else to say. I’m the first woman to catch his eye in years? I find that kind of hard to believe, but I guess I’ve been making assumptions about him all night, and we know that people aren’t always who we expect them to be.
“Why don’t you let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner sometime this week?” he continues, leaning against the bar and scanning my eyes.
“Oh,” I blurt out. “I can’t,” I say, forehead furrowing as I think of an excuse to make. “I’m sorry.”
If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s my self-control. I’ve always made sure to go for men who will be good for me. If they aren’t adding something to my already fulfilled life, then I don’t want them. I don’t want trouble, and I don’t want any kind of drama. And I sure as hell don’t want a bad boy.
Unfortunately, I can’t help whom I’m attracted to.
What I can do though is control who I allow to get close to me and which men I give a chance to.
An icy glass clasped in my hand, the condensation making my palm and fingers numb, I offer him an apologetic smile and make a quick exit, seeing Erin on the dance floor and heading straight for her.
“Did you save Eden from Rogue’s good looks?” I joke, casually glancing back at Knuckles, only to see him still standing alone in the same spot I left him, staring straight back at me.
Fuck.
I push away the slither of regret that slides over me and bring my focus back to Erin.
“Yeah. She really needs to work on her game. She was just standing there, wide-eyed, not even replying to his questions because she was so distracted by his looks,” Erin says, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Although, I gue
ss I can’t really blame her.”
I laugh and wrap my arm around her. “No, you can’t. You know, when you told me about this whole MC thing, this is not how I pictured it.”
I mean, I had all these misconceptions about Erin’s life here, and after meeting these people, I realize I’m wrong for judging so quickly. I thought the men wouldn’t be as nice and as welcoming, and I didn’t picture them going out of their way to decorate the place for Erin. They are a family, and I’m getting a glimpse of that. Don’t get me wrong, I imagine it’s not all parties and laughter, but I can just feel the bond between everyone and it’s contagious. The vibe here is something else.
“Me either,” she admits, holding on to my waist. “Thanks for being open-minded about it though.”
“Are you kidding me? I’ve always wondered what it looks like in here.” I grin, teasing her. “And you know that anywhere you go, I’ll follow. You’re one of my favorite people in the world, and I’m here for you if you need me.”
“I know,” she says with a soft smile. “I wanted to call you a few times when I was first here, but I don’t know, I guess it was something I needed to face on my own. I can’t always expect someone to bail me out; I’m not a baby anymore.”
“No, you’re not, are you?” I mutter, squeezing her tighter. I might have only six years on her, but growing up, that felt like plenty. As we get older, the gap is closing though, and soon it won’t feel like she’s much younger than me at all. How time has flown. I remember Erin on her first day of high school and how she’d asked me to drop her off. Not her mom, or her dad, she wanted me. As we sat in the car, I could tell how nervous she was. So I’d said, “I’ll pick you up at three, okay? You have nothing to worry about. You’re beautiful and smart, and if anyone gives you any shit I’ll make their lives a living hell.”
She’d smiled, taken a deep breath, and nodded. “You’re right, I’ve got this.”
She did.
And now she’s in college.
This time though, she doesn’t need me to drop her off.
We’re all so busy in our own lives that sometimes we forget to stop and enjoy the present.
I look back at Knuckles, who is still watching me, and then turn to face the stage, where Rogue is about to sing.
I want to be in the present, not be reckless.
When I was invited to this party, I admit that it briefly crossed my mind that I could write a story about the Cursed Ravens. It would be a firsthand account, and I know my boss, Tim, would eat it up. And Erin never said anything about keeping what I see “off the record,” but ultimately, she didn’t have to. I love my career, but I love my family more. I’d never do anything to betray Erin, especially because of how much faith she has in me.
It’ll be like I wasn’t even here.
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A single father struggles to change for his daughters and the woman he loves in this second book in the Cursed Ravens Motorcycle Club series from New York Times bestselling author Chantal Fernando.
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The Conflict of Interest Series
Breaching the Contract*
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Chantal Fernando
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ISBN 978-1-5011-7296-0 (eBook)
Ace of Hearts (The Cursed Ravens MC Series Book 1) Page 22
