“I’m always here for you.”
I lock eyes with him. “I haven’t been there for you, Tonk.”
“It’s fine.”
A pang twists inside me. “No, it isn’t. Tell me what you want.”
He frowns, golden forehead crinkling. “I’m content with my life.”
My voice is gentle as I prod him, “Bullshit, come on. If you could be anywhere, where would you go?”
Black eyelashes drop toward the floor. “Let me think about that and get back to you.”
Touching his shoulder I give it a squeeze. “I’ll be waiting to make whatever it is, possible.”
He stares after me as I leave.
CHAPTER 26
SEAN
C elia almost runs into me just outside her brother’s room. “Oh, hey,” she smiles, but there’s distance in her eyes.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just had a talk with Junior and I…guess I’m processing it.” Running a hand through her hair she glances around the empty hallway and asks, “How’re you?”
“Good. Just killed the shit out of some tin cans.”
“They had it coming.”
Smiling, I try to keep my mind off the warmth that just spread in her eyes. “Well, good almost bashing heads with you.”
“As if I could reach that high.”
“You could if you jumped a foot.”
“I’m not a whole foot shorter!”
“You’re my Latin leprechaun.”
Laughing, she rolls her eyes. “Fine, you’re tall.”
Sofia Sol walks up from the back of the house, glances between us, sees the chemistry flying. I’ve been careful to keep this current under wraps but right now that effort is a failure. My eyes drop and I start to head away. “See you at dinner.”
Soph says, “No, you two are heading into town.”
I frown as Celia asks, “What for? The refrigerator’s stocked.”
“Dad said he can’t stand looking at those anymore.” She points at my sneakers. “I mean, seriously, didn’t I tell you to get some boots?”
I run a hand through my hair, dying inside because there is no way I can be alone with Celia and keep my hands to myself. It’s been fucking torture keeping distance between us every single fucking day. It’s like there are two of me—one man who wants to join this family, and another who wants to run away with only one member of it, and tell the rest of them to fuck off if they have a problem with how I feel about her.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, but…”
“No buts.”
“You and Luke coming?”
“Do I look like I love shopping?” She cocks her eyebrow.
Celia blinks from her to me. “I don’t mind it.”
“Maybe Sage wants to take a trip, too,” I offer, knowing Atlas would never join in on this. “Or Tonk Jr.”
His door starts to open like he was listening and is willing to come along. Soph grabs the handle and shuts it again. “Dad said just the two of you.” Through the chipped paint she says, “Sorry, Tonk!”
“That’s cool,” comes his muffled response.
I get a lopsided smile from Celia, “God, Sean, it’s like you don’t want to hang out with me or something. Do I smell?”
Yes, like possibilities…
And expulsion.
“Nah, it’s nothing like that. You smell great. Cool, okay, if Jett wants you to help me get boots then let’s go.” I head off but don’t hear footsteps joining me, so a quick glance over my shoulder is necessary. She and Sofia Sol part like they were in a discussion I couldn’t hear. “I miss something?”
“Nope,” Celia smiles, taking her sweet time to catch up.
My gaze drops to her hips and I grit my teeth at the extra sway there seems to be in her walk. It’s probably just my cock’s imagination.
On the porch I start chewing the inside of my cheek at our bad luck. Of all the people to find enjoying the fall weather with two cups of hot chocolate and blanket shared, Celia’s parents would be my last choice. They’re snuggled up and cute as hell—never saw a couple so in love. But when they spot us alone, Carmen’s soft brown eyes sharpen instantly.
“Where are you two going? Not for a walk.”
Celia usually shows impatience with her mother when she reacts to me like this, which is every time she knows I’m around. But today Ceels casually announces, “Jett is sending me to help Sean get boots. His sneakers are falling apart now.” She takes my arm and hurries me down the stairs even though her face is passive and her tone final, “Be back before dinner.”
Near the garage, out of audible range, I tell her, “Nicely played.”
“She’s got some issues that have nothing to do with you, I promise.”
“What is it?”
“Fuck if I know.”
I’m the one who pulls up the garage door. In this house they’ve taught me by example that the women—even the most badass among them—let the men do the heavy lifting. I secretly love it, makes me feel appreciated. In a house with this many egos the balance between men and women is interesting to me. It’s like the motorcycle club figured out long ago how to keep everyone happy—let men be men, and always respect the women. Easy enough once you commit yourself to it.
Celia and I mount the Harleys, reach to unhook our helmets and strap them on, not talking to each other. Is she as aware of my body as I am of hers? When Celia’s boots find better footing on the steel I hear it like it’s right in my ear, the subtle scraping. As she rises up and sits again to adjust her balance, the swoosh of jeans against leather makes my cock curse.
Glancing toward the plantation, I silently will someone to come join us. This trip is going to be torture.
“Ready?” she asks, revving the engine.
“As I’ll ever be,” I mutter, and lead the way, taking Luke or Atlas’s place. If some truck comes around a corner, or a car doesn’t stop at a red, I’ll take the hit. If we’re chasing a car and they’re shooting at us, the women file into a straight line behind us and we take the hit in that scenario too. That’s Cipher protocol.
It’s one of
