I went outside to the parking lot to give Duke back his cell phone, which he immediately tucked into his pocket.
“You look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I said. “Where’s Jazz?”
“She left. Said she had something to take care of.” He shrugged, looking casual as he leaned against his bike.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“It’s about the club…”
He paused for a moment and scratched his stubbly jaw. “There are some things I can’t talk about. But if I can answer your question, I will.”
“How do the Blue Angels make their money?” I blurted out.
Duke cocked his head to the side. “We own Charlie’s Motorcycle Repair Shop.”
“That one garage makes enough money for all the brothers? Even the ones with kids?”
“We’ve got other businesses. Laundromats, bars, a few night clubs.”
Cash businesses.
I may have been in a dick coma, but my mind was clearing with Slash no longer in my orbit.
“Did I answer your question?” he asked.
Technically. But not actually.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He nodded. “You done for the day?”
“Yep.”
“You want to pack a bag and I’ll follow you on over to the new place?”
“Sure.” I sighed. “Slash has some stuff that needs to get moved. Will you load it up into my car?”
“No problem.”
While Duke got all of Slash’s clothes into my car, I packed a bag, including toiletries and a towel, and I made sure I had my prenatal vitamins.
By the time I headed to the new house, it was midafternoon and Duke trailed me on his bike. I hated to admit it, but I liked looking in my rearview mirror and seeing him. It was a comforting sight after the odd behavior of Kurt and a brick coming through the window. Part of me hated it, but at the same time, it made me realize I wasn’t alone. It wasn’t just Slash looking out for me.
The house was as adorable as I remembered, and my heart flipped when I thought of all the new furniture eventually filling up the space.
“Where do you want the bags?” Duke asked.
“Living room is fine, thanks,” I said. I headed to the bedroom and stopped in surprise.
“Problem?” Duke called out.
“No,” I called back. “Everything’s good.”
Not only had the furniture been delivered, but the new sheets and comforter I’d picked out were already on the bed.
Duke appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. “Looks good.”
“Did Savage do this?” I asked. I couldn’t picture him making a bed.
“Willa,” Duke said. “She was with him. Is that okay?”
“Okay? Of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be okay?”
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “She’s not technically part of the Blue Angels, but Savage and I have been best friends with her since we were kids, so we kind of claim her as one of our own.”
“I remember the three of you being thick as thieves at the party,” I said with a smile. “She’s a doll.”
“She is,” Duke agreed.
“So, I’m guessing she’s the one who put the fresh vase of flowers on the nightstand?”
“Savage sure as hell didn’t do that.”
I sniggered. “I need her number. I want to thank her. She didn’t have to go to the trouble.”
He put her number into my phone and then handed it back to me. “I’m going to get going,” he said.
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
“Yeah. I won’t be camping outside your place. No need for that. But when you head back to the bakery, text me. My number is in your phone.”
“What if I have to go to the bakery at five in the morning?” I asked.
“Have mercy on me,” he teased. “Make it at least five-thirty.”
I chuckled. “I’m just kidding. We’ve shifted gears to catering and everything happens a little later in the morning.”
“How is the catering thing going?” he asked as I walked him to the door.
“Pretty well, actually.”
“Doc says you make damn good pies.”
“I do.”
“How’s your apple?”
“Better than basic. Why?”
“Can I get you to make me an apple pie?”
I smiled. “I’d be happy to make you an apple pie.”
“How much?”
“Hmm. No charge.”
“I gotta pay you.”
“Nope. Consider it the cost of gas for your bike. And services rendered for looking out for me.”
“You’re okay, Brooklyn.” He grinned.
“So are you, Duke.”
“Oh, I forgot to mention, Willa did a bit of grocery shopping for you. There’s some stuff in the refrigerator to get you through the next couple of days without having to go to the store.”
With a wave, I closed the door after him and locked it. After a moment, I heard the rumble of his motorcycle, and he was gone.
I looked around the living room. It was devoid of furniture, and I sighed. As annoyed as I was, I thought it would be nice if Slash came back to all his clothes cleaned, folded, and put away. I’d forgotten to pack any laundry detergent or dryer sheets, and I didn’t want to drive all the way back to the bakery to get them, so I let it be for now.
My stomach rumbled, and I gave it a pat. “Okay, I hear you.” I went to the refrigerator and opened the door.
Some stuff.
The thing was full. Including a few cartons of orange juice as well as ginger ale. I ignored the fridge and began opening the cupboards. There were boxes and boxes of Saltine crackers.
How had they known what I’d need after a bout of morning sickness?
Slash.
I wasn’t brave enough to call him and thank him for his thoughtfulness because I was afraid I’d blurt out all my feelings.
Instead, I settled for a text, hoping it was enough of an olive branch.
Slash still hadn’t replied to my text by the time I got ready for bed. I tried not to feel uneasy about it, but I was hormonal. At least that’s what I blamed it on.
I made sure the house was locked up and the lights turned off before climbing under the covers. I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, listening for sounds coming from the neighborhood. Every once in a while a car would drive through, but other than that, there was no traffic. It was quiet and oddly unnerving.
The bed had been comfortable when I’d tested it in the store with Slash, but now that it was just me, I found it too big.
I gritted my teeth and rolled over onto my belly and then reached for the light and turned it out.
A few minutes later, I finally gave up and draped myself diagonally across the mattress and fell asleep.
The chirp of my phone woke me.
With a groan, I scooted toward the nightstand and grabbed my cell. Slash’s name appeared on the screen.
You awake?
I typed out Yes.
My phone rang and I answered it.
“Hey,” I greeted softly.
“Hey. Did I wake you?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I nibbled my lip. “Where are you?”
“Stopped for the night at a dank trucker motel in a town no one has ever heard of.”
“Oh.”
“How’s the bed?”
“Big. Roomy. Too roomy.” I let my unspoken words hang in the air.
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
He paused for a moment. “I should let you go back to sleep.”
“Probably. I had a hard time falling asleep, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what I’m doing right now?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, which instantly made my nipples pebble.
“What?”
“Sliding my hand into my boxers.”
“Slash,” I whispered.
“Have you ever done this before?”
“No.”
“It’ll help you sleep,” he teased.
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll do all the talking.”
I swallowed, a tingle of excitement shooting down my spine.
My hand drifted into my panties. I was already wet, just from hearing Slash’s growly voice in my ear.
“You know what I’d be doing if I was there with you?” he asked.
“What?”
“My head would be between your thighs, and I’d taste you and lick you until you were writhing. But I’d pin you down, hold you open, just the way I want you until you came on my tongue.”
A low moan escaped my throat as my fingers slowly swirled around the tight little bud between my legs.
“Do you know what I’d do after I made you come?”
“No,” I croaked.
“I’d let you ride me. My fingers would tweak your nipples and then you’d hang over me and I’d suck them into my mouth. I’d suck them nice and hard until you were coming all over my dick.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “God, yes.”
I slipped a finger inside myself, wishing it was Slash.
“And then,” he went on, his own breathing sounding harsh. “I’d get you on all fours. And I’d finally do the thing I’ve been wanting to do since the night we met.”
“What?” I gasped.
“I’d take your ass.”
“Slash,” I cried out, my orgasm building to a crescendo.
“I’d slide in nice and slow, ease into you. I’d fuck you until you were crying with pleasure and then, only then, would I come. Fill you up with so much of me that you thought about it for days afterwards.”
His filthy imagery had me quaking, and then I came on my fingers.
Slash grunted, and I heard skin slapping and knew he was touching himself, thinking of me. Thinking of us together.
“Fuck,” he growled.
Silence breathed between us, but it was easy and there was no shame on my end.
“Wow,” I murmured when I finally returned to my body. “That was something.”
“Tomorrow when we do this,” he said. “I want to see your face.”
“Tomorrow? My face?” Embarrassment finally got the better of me. “I don’t think I can.”
“You will,” he promised. “And you’ll like it. Sleep well, woman.”
I arrived at the bakery late the next morning. Duke was already there when I drove up.
“Hey, Brooklyn. You sleep well?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
“You know, it was a new place. Sometimes the first night in a new place is weird.”
“Ah, I slept well, thanks,” I said, wondering if he could see my cheeks flushing. I’d only slept well after Slash and I had…
“Duke? Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why isn’t there a Blue Angel parked outside the rental? At night, I mean? It seems like that would be something Slash would’ve demanded.”
“He knows you have the pistol he left you in the bedside drawer, and that’s a quiet part of town. The bakery’s a different story. Commercial zone—and the fact that the bakery was a target.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. I was glad Slash knew I could handle myself. We’d talked about it, and I’d told him Dad had taught me how to defend myself when I was younger.
Jazz pulled up and parked. She got out of the car and looked less than her usual put together self.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“Fine,” she snapped.
I raised my eyebrows.
“Sorry,” she said, immediately contrite as she rubbed her third eye. “Shit morning.”
“Well, let’s get this cake delivered and you can have the entire rest of the day to feel through your funk,” I said.
“You just need more coffee,” Duke said.
Jazz didn’t say anything as she marched to the back door of the bakery and whipped out her key. When she was inside, Duke said, “Jeez. What the hell is eating her?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ll go check.”
I entered the kitchen and set my bag on the counter, watching Jazz stomp around like Godzilla. “Jazz?”
“Men suck.”
“Which men?”
“All men,” she fumed.
“Okay.” I headed to the walk-in and opened the door.
“That’s it?” she demanded.
“There’s more?”
“You’re not trying to get me to talk about my problems.”
“I was going to let you fume and zoom like the Tasmanian devil and then ask if you wanted to talk about it.”
“Oh.” She paused. “That’s probably better.”
“You want to come over and see the new place? The living room furniture hasn’t been delivered, so we’d have to sit on the floor, but we can talk.”
“That’d be okay. I’m dying to see it anyway.”
I grabbed the cake from the walk-in and let Jazz be my guide, so I didn’t trip. We got it into the back of the van and secured it, and then Jazz went around to the driver’s side. She got in and started the engine. Or tried to. It made a noise, like the engine was trying to turn over, but it wouldn’t crank. She tried again.
“What the hell?” she grumbled.
“Hey, stop,” Duke called out.
He walked over to the hood of the van and popped it open. He frowned. “Nothing’s burning, and she’s tryin’ to crank, so the battery isn’t dead.” He pulled the air filter out and when he saw it was clean, he put it back and closed the hood. He then moved to the rear of the van, on the side with the gas tank, and crouched down.
“Yup, someone stole your gas. Tank’s been drilled. Look at the ground around it. Bunch of gas wound up just leaking out by the looks of it.”
“Someone stole our gas?” I demanded. “Who the hell would do that?”
“A person in desperate need of gas, I assume.” Duke rubbed the back of his neck. “We need to check your security feed.”
I pulled out my phone and blew out a breath of air. “This feels a lot like déjà vu.”
I scrolled through the feed and pressed pause when I saw a figure on the edge of the screen. I hit play and observed someone wearing a hoodie get under the van with a drill and a gas can. The time stamp was close to three in the morning. I showed Duke the footage, and we watched as they went under the van, drilled the tank, and filled the gas can and then ran off, leaving the rest of the gas to drain out all over the ground.
“Yep. That’s all she wrote.” He sighed.
Jazz let out a string of curses. “How are we supposed to get this cake to the restaurant for the Bennington’s engagement party tonight?”
“The same way we did it before we even had the van. You drive my car, and I’ll sit with the cake on my lap,” I said.
“I’ll drive your car,” Duke said.
“You don’t have to be with me every moment,” I reminded him.
“But you’re gonna have to come back to the bakery when you’re done and pack your shit. So, I gotta help.”
“Just say yes,” Jazz said. “So we can get the show on the road.”
“Fine,” I muttered. “But I’m not happy about this.”
“Yeah.” Duke grinned. “I got that.”
Jazz pulled out her phone. “I’m calling Brielle. She’ll send Virgil to get the van and haul it back to Horace’s garage and get it fixed.”
An hour later, the cake was in the walk-in refrigerator at a restaurant across town and Jazz and I were free. Duke drove us to the bakery, and by the time we got back, the van had been picked up by Virgil.
Jazz’s phone beeped with a text, and she sighed. “I have to get home. Rain check on the commiserating?”
I nodded. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. She turned to Duke. “Thanks for driving.”
“Anytime, Jazz.”
Jazz hopped in her car and left.
“What are you up to now?” Duke asked.
“There are some things I need to get from upstairs and then I’m heading to the grocery store.”
“What did Savage and Willa forget?”
“Apples, for your pie.”
He smiled. “Ah.”
“I really do appreciate it, Duke.”
He nodded and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “You and Slash okay?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Yeah. Why?”
“Dunno. You just seemed a bit…on edge yesterday.”
“How do I seem today?”
“Sedated.”
I laughed. “There are some things that I don’t understand, and they won’t be explained until he gets back. But it’s okay. It’s stuff that’ll keep.”
Duke looked like he was going to say something, but then shut his mouth.
“What?”
“I was just gonna say he’s a good guy. A good brother. He’s been a Nomad for years. Just keep that in mind anytime he pisses you off.”
I let out a low chuckle.
“Be patient with him,” he said quietly.
I placed my hand on his arm. “Thanks. I will.”
While I was at the grocery store, I got a phone call from Folson’s letting me know the living room furniture was on back order and would be delayed.
I sent Slash a text to let him know, even though it was trivial. I didn’t hear back from him. Maybe I could get Duke and a couple of the other young bucks to bring over my sofa from the apartment. I refused to live in a house without at least a couch.
Two hours later, I was at the new place. The laundry was on, and I was elbow deep in pie crust when the doorbell rang.
With a frown, I wiped my hands on a paper towel—I’d forgotten dishrags at the bakery—and went to see who it was. I peered through the peephole and smiled.
I opened the door. “What are you guys doing here?”
Mia embraced me. “We came to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?” I looked at Linden for an explanation.
“You’re all alone while Slash is out of town,” she explained.
“And Slash texted that there was a delay with the living room furniture,” Mia added. “So, I called some of the boys to get them to bring over a couch from the clubhouse, so you have something in the interim.”
“Do you like Mexican?” Linden asked.
“Yeah.” I blinked, my head spinning from the conversation jumps.
Slash had texted the Old Ladies but not me?
“Perfect. Come out to dinner with us, and by the time you get back there will be a couch and a recliner in the house,” Linden said. “Allison, Darcy and Joni are already on their way and will meet us there.”
Mia reached out and wiped my cheek. “Flour.”
“Oh.” I hastily rubbed the back of my hand across my face. “I was making pie crust.”
“You’re in the middle of something.” Mia pouted. “And here I thought we’d get you all to ourselves while Slash is away.”
“Actually, the pie crust has to chill in the fridge for a few hours, so I’m free.”
“Yay!” Mia clapped her hands. “Colt is watching the kids, and I plan to make the most of it!”
“Let me just get my purse,” I said. “And leave a key under the mat for the guys.”
“Not necessary,” Mia said. “I already gave them my key.”
“Your key?” I asked in surprise. “Why do you have a key?”
Mia cocked her head to the side. “Slash didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
She grinned. “I own this house. Surprise, I’m your landlord!”