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“Thank God I’m too old for dating apps,” I mutter.
Z squeezes my ass, making me miss part of the conversation. “Too what?”
“Taken. I meant too taken.” I grin and kiss his cheek. “You know what I mean.”
“Real men,” Sparky pounds his fist against his chest, “should be able to find a woman without a computer.”
“Yeah, by hitting on their club’s employees,” Stash snarks, shoving Sparky and making Willow’s cheeks turn red.
“Look at this,” Mercy announces, holding up her phone. “I’ll treat you like a queen, baby. Like the princess you were born to be. Ugh, gross.”
“A good man doesn’t say he’ll treat you like a queen, he just does it.” Charlotte bumps her shoulder against Teller’s arm.
“Ugh, you two are sickening.” Mercy points at Charlotte. “Dicknotized.”
The guys whoop it up at that one. “Z calls it dick-whipped, but I like your version better,” Ravage says.
“You do, huh?” I glance back at Z, who’s glaring at Rav. I elbow in the side to get his attention and lean up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “You can whip me with that monster in your pants whenever you want.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Siren.”
“Anyway, Charlotte’s right,” I add, turning to face the group again. “Any guy who spouts off that nonsense wouldn’t know what to do with you, Mercy.” Because spending an afternoon around Mercy has already told me she’s a fireball of fun and a lot of woman to handle.
“A-fucking-men.” She raises both palms toward the sky.
Trinity snickers. “Of course, if a woman wants to be treated like a queen, she should probably act like one.”
“Very true, Mrs. Wrath,” Stash says, winking at her.
“See that’s just it,” Mercy says. “I don’t need to be treated like a queen.” She flashes her phone again. “Nowhere in my profile does it say that.” She taps the phone screen. “Don’t live with your parents. Have a job. Be able to find a clit on your own. My requirements are painfully simple.”
When everyone’s laughter dies down, Ravage sticks out his hand. “I’m Ravage, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
Carter snorts. “Good luck with that, Rav. She’s lying.”
“Not be related to my best friend or be like my little brother. Didn’t think I needed to add those to my dating profile, Carter.” Mercy grins and hugs him to her side, taking the sting out of her words.
Charlotte turns and whispers something in Teller’s ear and he shakes his head.
“What?” Mercy pokes Charlotte’s side. “You wish you’d never invited me now, don’t you?”
“Noooo, I didn’t say that.”
Teller points his beer bottle at Mercy, then Ravage. “She bet Rav couldn’t find your clit with a flashlight and a roadmap.”
Charlotte smacks him and bursts into giggles. “That’s not what I said.”
“I’m hurt, guys.” Ravage turns his sad puppy eyes on Charlotte. “Truly. Hurt.”
Jigsaw steps up with his hand in the air. “Challenge accepted.” He pulls a mini-flashlight out of his pocket, flicks it on and points it at Mercy’s crotch. “I’m prepared for this quest.”
Mercy covers her face with her hands and shakes with laughter.
“Back off,” Teller says, pushing Jigsaw away from Mercy.
“Cockblocker,” Heidi mutters.
“You be quiet,” Teller says.
Laughing, Jigsaw high-fives Heidi.
I tip my head back, resting it on Z’s chest. “I feel like we’re at the kid’s table.”
“No fucking kidding,” he grumbles, kissing my forehead. “You want to go home?” He clears his throat. “I mean up to the clubhouse.”
“You really miss it up here, huh?”
He shrugs and looks around at his brothers, scattered around Teller’s backyard, still laughing and joking around with Mercy. “Yes and no. It’s been home for a long time. But it’s really more about the brothers.” His mouth quirks into a smile. “As long as I see these assholes on a regular basis, I can live anywhere.”
“Aw, I feel the love, bro,” Murphy says. “Deep inside.”
Z leans closer to Murphy. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite asshole.”
Murphy roars with laughter and claps Z on the back. “Same, asshole. Same.”
“So glad you two bonded in jail,” Teller says.
“Don’t be jealous.” Murphy taps his chest. “You’re still number one in here.”
Heidi pulls Murphy’s solo cup out of his hands and takes a sniff. “What is this? Jet fuel?”
“Why you so quiet, Prez?” Sparky shouts to Rock.
Rock pulls Hope against his chest. “Nothing to add to this conversation. Got my queen right here.”
“Aww,” Mercy sighs.
Hope snuggles up against him. “And, as Charlotte says, Rock’s never told me he’ll treat me like a queen. He just does.”
“Man of action, our prez is.” Stash tips his beer bottle their way. “We all are,” he adds, tossing a wink at Mercy.
“Eh.” Hope wiggles her fingers at Stash. “Some of you are more talk than others.”
“Not helping, First Lady.”
“Wasn’t trying to.”
Rock buries his face in her hair and rumbles with laughter.
“Ignore her. She loves me,” Stash says to Mercy.
“I do,” Hope agrees before turning to Mercy. “Now, what are your goals, Mercy? One night? Stash is your man. More than that? Not so much.”
“Exactly,” Stash agrees. “Thank you, Hope.”
“One hour is more like it,” Ravage mumbles.
“Fifteen minutes, tops,” Jigsaw adds, getting a high-five from Sparky.
“Guys, can we please not fight over my best friend like she’s a bone and you’re a bunch of starving pit bulls?” Charlotte says.
Mercy’s laughing and doesn’t seem shocked or offended. I lean back. “I think she can handle herself fine,” I whisper to Z.
“They’re just messing around. No one will bother her.”
“I didn’t think so, Z.”
He shrugs. “After what happened with Shadow, I wouldn’t blame you if you were—”
“Z, I know he didn’t represent the whole club or your brothers.” I turn and press my palms against his cheeks. “All the guys here stepped up and helped out when…I always felt safe and looked after.”
“That means
everything to me, Lilly.” His gaze lands on Rock who nods at us. “That’s what we always wanted to build with this club. Not that I want you to go through that,” he hurries to add.
“I understand what you’re trying to say.”
For the first time, I feel part of a family.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lilly
“This is my friend, Bronze. He’s been doing the club’s ink for years.” Z squeezes my hand. “I told him you had questions about some designs you were interested in.”
I blink and my heart skips. It seems like forever ago that Z and I had that conversation. I’m touched he remembers. “I, uh,” I mumble, unsure of what to say.
“Nice to finally meet the woman capable of taming this beast,” Bronze jokes, slapping Z’s shoulder and putting me at ease.
Finally, I smile. “Oh, I can imagine.”
Z guides us into a quieter part of Teller and Charlotte’s house. While we walk, I slide off my bracelets and stuff them in my back pocket.
“What’d you have in mind, sweetheart?” Unlike the sarcastic way I’ve heard some of the bikers use sweetheart to address the club girls, Bronze uses the endearment with kindness so I’m not offended. Z seems to bristle though, which makes the corners of my mouth twitch. Always a caveman.
“Well, I don’t know what Z told you. It’s a little embarrassing.”
The guys share a look. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Any decent artist has seen everything,” Bronze says.
“Bronze is one of the best.” Z slaps his friend’s arm. “I wouldn’t let him near you otherwise.”
“Gee, thanks, bro.”
Z must trust him if he lets Bronze get away with calling him bro.
I hold out my forearms, scars up. “Something to cover these.” The words come out fast and blunt.
“Ahh,” he breathes out, gently taking my right arm in his hands and smoothing his fingers from my pulse point to my inner elbow. It tickles but I’m too choked up to laugh. He moves us closer to the overhead lights and twists my arm from side to side. Then checks my left arm.
“Have you worked on scars before?” I ask to fill the prolonged silence while he studies me.
“I have.” He flicks his gaze toward Z. “A lot, actually. It feels good to help someone put something beautiful over something painful they’ve overcome.”
