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“Hi,” I say, suddenly shy even though I recognize a few familiar faces.
“Hello, boys,” Ruby coos in her sultry alto.
“Ladies, this is Ace, our President.” His brown eyes appear all-knowing as he gives a curt nod.
“That’s Shades and Preacher,” he says, introducing us both, and we offer up a smile and a wave.
Next, Wild Man and Nova round out the introductions.
Ruby and I say, “Nice to meet you all,” like twins.
“She’s so polite,” Shades teases with a wink. “Definitely too good for you, Coop.”
Coop flips him the bird, but it’s all playful brotherly teasing.
“Prospects are around here somewhere if you want to chat with Joaquin,” he offers to Ruby with a knowing grin.
Ruby shrugs. “I brought tequila. Who wants a shot?”
Shades flashes a wide grin and steps forward to sling an arm around my friend’s shoulder.
“Love a woman who can drink, sweetheart. Let me show you the right way to do a tequila shot.”
Before Ruby could answer, Shades tugs her toward the other end of the bar, whispering in her ear along the way.
I look around the room, feeling a pang of jealousy at the dozen or so half-dressed women milling about. Some sit possessively on the laps of men in Reckless Souls attire, some watch Ruby. And me. It’s a party, I tell myself and turn to Coop.
Coop, to whom I have no claim, but I desperately wish I did. What does it take to be one of these girls hanging around Coop all day?
“Smile, Kelsey, it’s a party.” His whispered words send a shiver through me. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but these are good people. My people.”
I turn to face him, and I hear exactly what he’s telling me without saying it. These people are his family, his friends, and if we stand a chance, they are a package deal. “It’s not that. This place is great.”
His fiery brows dip as a dark look crosses his face. “What is it, then?”
I look around at all the smiling faces, laughter blending with rock music, the smell of weed mixed with perfume and cologne swirling in the air.
It’s a party, yet all I can think about is the conversation I heard before leaving home. I shouldn’t bother Coop with it. I mean, what are the odds his MC is who Daddy was talking about? Pretty slim, I tell myself, but I don’t truly believe it.
“Kelsey, talk to me.”
I nod. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”
He nods and takes my hand, guiding me through a door at the rear of the clubhouse. The door shuts behind us, muting the sounds of the party, wrapping us in a tense silence. I look up at the sky and spot one or two lights sparking above, but not enough to provide me with any comfort. I let out a frustrated sigh and turn to Coop.
“Talk,” he commands with a soft smile.
I open my mouth a few times, but no words come out. “I’m working on it.”
“No need to let me down easy, Kelsey.”
I blink and frown.
Coop laughs.
“Is that what you think this is about?”
“Isn’t it?” His gaze locks with mine for a brief second before he pulls out a long black cylinder and clicks a button.
“Blue Dream,” he explains. “It’ll help you find your words.”
I hesitate for a minute. Not because I don’t smoke pot, I do. This is California, after all. I hesitate because I don’t want my mind muddled when I say what needs to be said. But my heart is beating so fast I can hardly hear my own thoughts, so I accept it and take two quick puffs. “Thanks.”
Coop says nothing, just gives me a patient, encouraging smile.
Okay, I can do this. If it can help Coop, I can do this. “This is going to sound weird and intrusive, believe me, I know. But I have a good reason for asking.”
His defenses go up so suddenly it’s a wonder I spot it. His blue gaze is suddenly guarded, and his arms fold defensively across his chest. “Asking what?”
“Does your club do business at the Port?”
Suspicion is written all over his face. “Why?”
“Can you just answer the question, please?”
“Yes. We send and receive shipments for our business interests through the Port. Why?” His dark tone is intimidating as hell, and dammit, my nipples harden at the angry expression on his handsome face.
“I heard some things today, and I’m sure it’s just what my therapist calls my overactive imagination, but I feel like I have to tell you anyway.”
“Tell me what?”
My shoulders fall in disappointment. No matter what I say next, he’s suspicious of me. Coop doesn’t trust me.
“I overheard my father talking to Tom, who I’m sure is Tom Delaney.”
“Port Director?”
I nod. “He said some guy called Mr. Santos wants a more prominent role at the Port that someone else thinks they own. Said if those other guys got out of hand, they would just call the police.”
