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Doc reached over and took a cigarette from the carton. “Shut up.”
Hawk’s brows lifted. “Wow, she must really be bad if you’re smoking. I haven’t seen one pass your lips since you arrived.”
Lighting the cigarette, he drew in a deep breath. He’d never smoked more than a pack in his life, but every now and then, the nicotine eased his nerves. Tonight, though, it barely scraped the surface.
“She’s stubborn, gorgeous, and off-limits.” He shook his head. “Feels like a test.”
Hawk chuckled. “You think Prez wants to see if you can keep it in your pants around Phantom’s daughter?”
“Dunno, maybe. Reaperismy uncle.”
“Yeah, but he’s not cruel.” Hawk took another draw. “All right, not premeditative cruel.”
Doc studied the curling smoke above them. “The smallest things she does set me off. I mean, hell, she was having a sex dream about me just now. Not to mention how she asked me to kiss her.” He shook his head. “And I want to. So badly.”
“Then do it.” Hawk flicked ash on the cement.
“Are you kidding? That’s asking to get my ass handed to me. I just patched. And I can’t fuck Phantom’s daughter like I want. She needs somebody gentle. I’m far from that.”
Hawk waved at two women entering the tattoo shop. “Then resist the temptation to slip between her legs, brother. Get a nymph. They’ll ease your urges.” He grinned. “Maybe. You do have a knack for being insatiable.”
“Fuck you.”
Hawk laughed and turned toward the door. “Gotta get back to it. Those ladies are my last appointment.” He opened the door. “You gonna be okay, or do I need to put a chastity belt on you?”
Doc tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his boot. “I’m good, thanks.”
Hawk nodded, then slipped inside.
Pacing the parking lot, Doc couldn’t get Isa out of his mind. He watched the bar fill with more Snowshoe residents, the music louder by the minute. Grinding up against a nymph wouldn’t suffice.Nothing will.
9
Isa
Rainstorms movedin during the night, and by the time Isa woke, the entire valley was covered in a dense fog. She pulled on a pair of pants, a sweatshirt, and shoes. A chill lingered in the clubhouse hallway. The dark sky peeked through the windows, reminding her of Ireland. Tears welled in her eyes. The thought of home always did that. Even when she was miles from her little shop apartment.
Doc was nowhere to be found when she woke. The vivid dreams she’d had made her grateful for his scarcity. She didn’t feel like explaining why he was the main character in her adult-rated imagination.
Drinking last night was a mistake.She winced at the bright kitchen light and frowned at the lack of bodies. The clock above the stove said it was early morning, and distant snores echoed down the halls.
After gulping down a bottle of water, Isa made her way through the clubhouse. The décor wasn’t anything special. No doubt the old ladies didn’t even bother with the place. This was the patch members’ haven. From pool tables to dartboards, the place reeked of masculinity.
She found a smaller room with a television and two couches and sank into the one nearest the door. It was odd to be in a place like this. Her mother never went into great detail about Malcolm Kerry’s occupation. Seeing a sliver of what her father lived with over the last two decades, Isa pitied him. While the MC life had perks, all she could see were the pitfalls.
She stared at the Macha emblem on the wall. The ornate goddess with long red hair wore all black and stared at Isa with dark eyes, her faithful raven and horse by her side. The folklore of the Irish heroine was one she’d heard throughout childhood. Isa frowned. Now that she thought of it, the stories were from books sent from a distant relative. Her mother never explained who sent them.It was Phantom.Part of her wanted to be furious with her mum for keeping her father from her. The other part of her appreciated the safety. She’d had the chance to grow up without the fear of warring MCs coming for her.
Snatching the remote, she flipped on the television and rolled her eyes at the adult station. The cheesy lines and music made her mute it immediately.I’m just going to forget I saw that.Finding a history channel, she watched a show on King Henry VIII until her eyelids drooped once more.
An hour later, she woke with a start and sat up. Scanning the room, she sighed. The clouds hadn’t lifted yet, but she heard rustling throughout the clubhouse. Stretching, she stood and yawned. A myriad of framed photos caught her eye on the wall, and she walked over, tracing the snapshots. Some were black and white, others Polaroid, but they all had one thing in common: each one held patch Macha members.
Lifting her eyes, she searched for a familiar face. None came to her. Her heart dropped slightly when no women appeared in the pictures.
“Is the Macha brotherhood really enough?”
“Don’t let Reaper hear you ask that. He’ll skin your hide,” a feminine voice teased.
Looking over, Isa noticed a short woman outfitted in tight leather standing in the doorway. With cascading black hair, pierced brows, and a pair of dazzling eyes, it was hard to miss her. “Who’re you?”
