“Ev,” I call quietly, as he reaches over to turn out the light.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Is…” I pause, not wanting to set him off again after his reaction earlier.
“What is it?” he asks on a squeeze, rolling back into me.
“Is your brother okay?”
“He’s sitting in jail,” he says, not sounding upset about that at all. In fact, there is no emotion in his tone.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing closer to him.
His body turns toward mine and his arms go tight enough that the air rushes out of my lungs. “Do not,” he growls, getting close enough for me to feel his breath against my skin, “feel bad for him.” Okay, there was definitely emotion there. His arms loosen, but his face stays close as he continues, “He fucked up. This isn’t the first time he’s fucked up either. Me and him are done. He’s going back to prison, where he’s likely going to spend a few more years. He’s had the opportunity to get his shit together, but he continues to squander that shit.”
“But he’s your brother,” I say softly. My sisters and I are close. The rest of my family and I are close too, and I can’t imagine ever cutting any one of them out.
Growing quiet his fingers shift through my hair then run down my back. “My family isn’t like your family, baby, and my brother and I don’t have a relationship like you and your sisters have. I’ve tried with him, tried over and over throughout the years. I knew he was fucked up from how we grew up, understood the reasons why he did the shit he did before, but he’s not a kid anymore, and I won’t make excuses for him. I won’t allow you to feel bad for him.”
“Maybe—”
“I want you to listen,” he cuts me off before I can suggest that maybe his brother needs help, real help, and not the kind prison offers. “I want you to hear me when I say this. It’s going to sound cold, but this is the truth. He’s never going to change. He’s going to use our childhood as an excuse for his fucked-up behavior for the rest of his life, and that shit is on him.”
“But—”
His thumb presses over my lips and his face dips even closer to mine. “Don’t. I love you, baby, and I know you. I know you see your family and the way they are, and you think that’s the way it is for everyone, but it is not. Some people have the same blood running through their veins, but that blood doesn’t mean shit at the end of the day. When shit went down for you, I didn’t once think of calling my blood. I called my brothers. And the minute I did, they rolled out. That’s loyalty. That’s love and respect. That’s a bond stronger than blood. You get me?” he asks, and I nod in the dark. “Good.” He removes his thumb.
“How did you meet up with Wes and the guys?” I ask, referring to my sister July’s husband, who also happens to be the president of The Broken Eagles MC club. The men Evan obviously considers his brothers. July explained to me that Wes and his boys were all in the military together. They ride on weekends, work on their own bikes and cars, and do the same for friends. Wes came here to visit his mom, who lives in Nashville, took one look at the beautiful state of Tennessee, and decided once they were all free from the service, they’d move here, settle down, and start their own bike and car repair business.
“Soon as I got back stateside and discharged, I looked up a friend of mine, Colton. He was in our unit, but had gotten sent back stateside for surgery after being shot once in the chest and once in the back two weeks before we lost our unit. Colton was in New York at a rehabilitation center, but he put me in contact with his dad. Their family owns a biker bar near Chattanooga. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I just knew that whatever I did, I needed to be away from Alabama, my mom, and my dad,” he says, holding me a little closer. “I also didn’t want to risk seeing you.”
That stung. I understood why, but it still hurt. I can still remember the pain I felt when I found out he was in Alabama and hadn’t come to me. I remember it so accurately, it feels like it was just yesterday.
“We’re moving forward, baby,” he whispers, and I squeeze my eyes closed and nod. “I had been working at the bar for a week when Harlen came in. We talked the whole time he was on the stool. Before he left, he gave me his number, and we talked some more. During one of our calls, he explained that he was part of an MC, and that most of the members were Vets. He invited me to come out for the weekend and I took him up on his offer. It wasn’t long after that, that Wes introduced me to Jax.”
“I’m glad you have them,” I say softly. I’m glad that after his messed-up childhood and what happened to him when he was in Afghanistan, he has guys he considers brothers, people to depend on and lean on.
“Me too, baby.”
“And Colton, is he okay now?” I ask, wondering if his friend realizes his life was also spared because of what happened to him.
“He is now, but wasn’t before. He may have been gone, but he also lost men he thought of as brothers. Had to learn how to walk again, spent a year in rehab. His longtime fiancée broke up with him while he was going through that shit, so he wasn’t good, but he’s back home, settling in, and working at his dad’s bar. Last time we spoke, he sounded happy.”
“His longtime fiancée broke up with him while he was learning how to walk again?” I breathe, not even beginning to comprehend that.
“She’s a cunt and proved that shit. I don’t know the details. We don’t talk about her. I just know he’s done with her in a way that there will never be any fixing that shit. I can’t say I blame him. She should have stuck by her man or waited until he was on his feet, literally, before dropping that kind of bomb on him. They weren’t just dating, they were engaged and talking about starting a family. That shit proves the kind of woman she is.”
“Wow, what a bitch,” I murmur, and his arms give me a squeeze.
“Yep.”
“Good for him, getting over her, though.”
“Yeah, baby, good for him. He’s a good guy, has a solid family, so I think he’ll be all right.
“Good,” I whisper.
“You’ll meet him. We’ll take a day and ride out to see him and his parents one day.”
“On your bike?” I ask hopefully.
“You wanna go on my bike?” he asks, and I put my hand to his chest and drape my body over his.
“Do you remember when you rode down my block on your bike?” I inquire, and I feel him go solid, but he still replies with a quiet, “Yeah.”
“That night, I spent forever getting myself off. I was so turned on I couldn’t even get to sle—” Before I can say more, he rolls me to my back and covers my mouth with his, and then he does more things to me. Things that end with me screaming out his name, and him groaning mine down my throat, proving the reality of him is much better than the fantasy.
Waking, I feel warmth down my back, knees bent in toward mine, and a hand I know is Evan’s tucked close to my chest. It’s Saturday, and all I want to do is sleep, but I know I need to get up to let Ninja out and feed him, so I carefully unlace my fingers from Evan’s and scoot out of the bed. Once I’m free, I go to the bathroom and take care of business, brush my teeth, and grab a hoodie from my closet, along with a pair of cutoff sweats, putting both on before leaving the bathroom.
I take a second to appreciate Evan in my bed—the sheet down to his waist, his strong arms and wide chest on display, along with his tattoos. Fighting the urge to go back to bed and curl my body into his, I leave the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind me. “Hey, Pup-Pup,” I whisper when Ninja looks at me from his position on the couch and yawns. “Come on outside.” I walk past the couch and push the double glass doors open.
His eyes stay on me as he lets out an annoyed huff, which I’m sure means, It’s too early to get up. His body stretches out, his front paws hitting the floor first, before he slowly slides off the couch like he has all the time in the world. Laughing at him, I give him a cuddle when he reaches me before leaving the door open for him to come back in, and then head for the kitchen to s
tart some coffee.
Sitting out on my back deck in a foldup chair, with my feet resting on the wood railing and a cup of coffee in my hands, I look over my shoulder when the door slides open, and watch Evan step out wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts and holding a cup of coffee.
“Hey,” he greets, his hair rumpled and his face still soft from sleep.
“Hey.” My eyes rake down his chest and abs, taking in all that is him, and there is a whole lot more than there used to be—all of it seriously hot. Coming toward me, he bends at the waist, touching his mouth to mine, saying softly against my lips, “I don’t like waking without you.”
“I wanted to let you sleep,” I reply just as softly, and then laugh when Ninja nudges between us and leans against Evan, so he’s forced to take a step away from me.
“I see we’re gonna have problems.” He chuckles, running his hands over Ninja’s head.
“He’s my Pup-Pup.” I smile, rubbing Ninja’s snout, and he instantly forgets about Evan and moves closer to me.
“Pup-Pup?” Evan asks.
I look at Ninja then grin, and chirp, “Yep.”
His eyes drop to my mouth and he shakes his head, then mutters to Ninja, “Go get your ball.” As he sets his cup of coffee on the edge of the deck and grabs one of the chairs that are folded up against the side of the house, he unfolds it next to mine then fits his big body into it, causing the cheap metal to groan and squeak under his weight.
“I’m not sure my chairs are built for you,” I tell him, as he leans forward to grab his coffee, causing the chair to groan again.
“We’ll take my truck today, get some deck chairs that won’t give out, and pick my shit up from the compound,” he says almost to himself, taking the ball from Ninja when he brings it over.
“We will?” I ask, and his eyes move to me and scan my face, and then he transfers his coffee to his other hand and nabs me from behind my neck, pulling me closer until we’re sharing the same breath.
“We’re moving forward, and we’re doing that together. I know you still have doubts about us, but I don’t. We’ll work through your shit and settle in, baby.”
“My shit?” I whisper, and his eyes scan my face again.
“Do you want me to leave?” he prompts, and I feel my heart lodge itself in my throat at the idea of him leaving. His eyes lock on mine, and his voice drops as his fingers flex against my skin. “I have enough love for the both of us. Doesn’t matter if you love me back. I’m not giving you space or room. You’re mine, June. You have been for a long fucking time and I want what we could have had to start now.”
“Do…” I pause, licking my lips, and his eyes drop to my mouth. “Do you think we should slow down a little?”
“What’s going to change if we slow down?” he asks, which is a good question, and it’s a good question that annoys me, since I know by the determination in his eyes that nothing is going to change. Besides, since he’s been back, I can’t imagine it any other way.
“My dad’s going to kill me,” I mumble. He grins and leans closer, brushing his lips against mine, and then leans back to take a sip of coffee.
“He’ll adjust,” he says, pulling the ball from Ninja’s mouth and tossing it again. “Hell, he doesn’t like me anyway, so fuck it.”
“He likes you,” I tell him, or at least he did like him. Now, I’m not so sure, but seeing how he’s alive, I’m sure that means Dad doesn’t exactly hate him.
“Baby,” he murmurs, sounding amused. “He told me that if I fucked up again, he was going to cut off my dick and feed it to me.”
“Oh.” I cringe then listen to him laugh. Taking a sip of coffee, I wonder how long it will take for my dad to come around.
“He’ll come around,” he assures, reading my mind.
“My family is a little overprotective.” I sigh.
“I get it. I’ll be the same when we have girls.”
“Ev,” I whisper, holding my cup tighter. When Evan and I were together, we talked about starting a family sooner, rather than later. I wanted to be a mom while I was still young, and I wanted at least three kids, if not more. Evan wanted the same as me.
“We got delayed, baby, but I already searched your shit and couldn’t find any birth control. We didn’t use any kind of protection last night.” His words stun me, and I’m not prepared when his hand nabs me again, pulling me close once more. “When I said we’re moving forward, I meant with everything.”
My breathing starts to turn ragged and my stomach rolls into a knot. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s not panic or fear; it’s something different, something unexpected. Finally, I get the word, “What,” out, but that’s all I’m able to say before he kisses me again and leans back, taking another sip of his coffee.
“It’ll all work out,” he says casually, picking up the ball Ninja drops at his side, tossing it out into the yard.
“Are you crazy?” I ask when I find my voice.
“Was crazy for a while, baby. I also couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even fucking take a breath. Three days ago, I finally took a breath, and since then, I’ve been breathing easy. So no, baby, I’m not crazy.”
Okay. I can feel it happening. I know it’s coming, so I turn my face away from his and pull in a breath through my nose to fight the tears back, but it doesn’t work. I hiccup on a sob, and then before I have a chance to cover it, my coffee cup is removed from my hand and Evan is picking me up, placing me in his lap. Crying into his neck, I cling to him tighter, and then scream when the chair under us gives out and we both fall to the deck below us.
“Are you okay?” he asks, rolling me to my back, away from the broken chair.
“I’m fine.” I giggle, and then giggle louder as I push Ninja away when he licks my face. “I told you my chairs weren’t built for you,” I say softly, as his eyes change and his hips press into mine.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, catching me off guard. His hands move and hold each side of my face, and his thumbs swipe over my cheeks, where the tears had fallen moments before. “Even crying, you’re fucking gorgeous.” His lips brush over mine, and then I pull my head back and cover my face when Ninja licks between our faces.
“I think we need to get up.” I laugh.
“Let’s go. We have a busy day ahead of us, and that day is starting in the shower.” He stands, pulling me up along with him, and leads me into the house by my hand, shutting the door once Ninja is back inside.
“I’ll shower alone. I don’t want to get my hair wet,” I tell him, and his fingers flex between mine as his eyes move from my hair, down my body.
“Sorry, baby, but more than just your hair is gonna get wet.”
“Evan, I’m serious,” I scold, trying to get him to release my hand.
“So am I, baby,” he mutters, dragging me behind him down the hall, through the bedroom, and straight into the bathroom.
As much as it annoys me to admit it, having to blow dry my hair after our shower was totally worth it.
Chapter 9
June
Walking into the bar, my hand held tightly in Evan’s, I wait for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. Evan kept his word from last Saturday about taking me for a ride to meet his friend Colton in Chattanooga. Well, really, he’s taken me on a lot of rides over the last week, but honestly, I think it’s because every time he’s given me a ride on the back of his bike, he’s gotten a ride of a different variety when we get home.
I don’t ride a bike like my sister July and I don’t want to learn, but being snug to Evan’s back, the feel of power between my legs, the wind in my hair, and the warm sun beating down on us is something I have come to crave.
So much has happened over the last two weeks. Evan moved in that first Saturday we had together. We went to the compound and picked up his stuff, not that he had a lot of anything really. All he had was some clothes, a few guns, which I ignored as he packed them away
, and two pictures that were not framed and were worn around the edges.
The first picture was of him and me, which he took on his cell phone one day when we were together at his apartment in Alabama. I didn’t have my shirt on, because we had been making out hot and heavy in his bed. My body was pressed to his back, my chin on his shoulder. I was smiling at the camera, with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He had told me I looked beautiful and that he needed to capture the moment. So he rolled to his side to grab his cell off his side table, and I followed him, pressing close. I forgot about that moment until I saw the picture.
The other was a picture from the day we got married. I was wearing a simple white summer dress with a pair of strappy taupe sandals on my feet, and he was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a dark blue button-up shirt. We were both in profile, his face dipping toward mine, his hand on my waist, mine at his back, with our marriage certificate in my hand.
When I saw those pictures, I cried. I knew he said he was always mine, but seeing those photos, the worn edges and crinkles in the paper from being handled often, I knew he always kept me with him. After I finally pulled myself together, we dropped his stuff at my house then went to the local gardening store and bought furniture for the deck, all dark wood with bright cushions, along with a simple table, chairs, and a grill, because “we needed a grill”—or Evan needed a grill, since I don’t have any luck with barbequing. Every time I tried in the past, the meat was overcooked or burnt to a crisp, and completely inedible.
After we got home that day, we spent time together just us, and did the same for the last week—being lazy, being a couple, and arguing and bickering about what to watch or what to cook for dinner, but we did it all together. Things between us have been falling back into place, and everything about that feels good. No…it feels amazing, while still being a little scary.
Feeling Evan’s hand give mine a squeeze, I come out of my thoughts and tilt my head back toward him. His eyes search my face for a moment, and I know he sees it there when he grins then dips his face closer to mine, and whispers, “We’ll get a room for the night and ride home tomorrow afternoon.”