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She looks hot.Too hotto be out parading around my brothers in such a sexy get-up.
Gritting my teeth, I rush to the bunk room. I rip open the shared closet, desperate to find something to cover her up with. Controlling? Yeah, but I don’t give two shits. I’ll become a territorial monster if I have to watch every other guy drool over her.
Not seeing anything of hers that will do the job, I go to my half of the closet, pulling out the leather jacket I had every intention of customizing for her when she became my old lady. This will do.
On my way back to the bathroom, I run into Opal in the hallway. Her blue eyes assess me. “Hello, Handsome.” She places her hands on my pec muscles, leaning in to lay a welcoming kiss on my lips. Her sweet lips penetrate through my defensive walls. She pulls away with a tender smile on her angelic face. “I missed you, and I’m happy you and the guys are home safe, but you and I need to talk later after the celebration.”
We definitely need to talk, but I’m surprised with how direct she’s behaving. I wasn’t sure what I expected when I returned home. Some avoidance, crying, or even yelling, I’d understand, but collective calmness was not on the list of expected responses.
Opal takes me by the hand, guiding me toward the kitchen. “I made the desserts you love.” We walk into the dated yellow kitchen. My sense of smell is slammed with the peachy deliciousness of all the treats. Peach pie, turnovers, muffins, bread, tarts galore cover the counters of the tiny rental kitchen. She must have spent the entire day making all of this for me.
She lifts a pastry to my lips. “Take a bite. They’re delicious.”
I do as she asks, confused as fuck. The flavor explodes in my mouth. She outdid her baking skills once again. Before I’ve finished chewing, Opal is dragging me out the kitchen side door to the crew gathering in the driveway for the party.
I’m still chewing my dessert when Opal places my favorite beer in my hand, kissing me on the cheek before swiping away the lipstick stain she left. “You should relax with your brothers after a successful mission. I’ll stay with you and celebrate.”
Okay, something’s up. Is this one of those strategies a woman uses on a man to get him to let down his guard right before she offs him? I’ve seen enough of thoseSnappedtelevision shows the bunnies love watching to know a scorned woman is capable of anything.
No, Opal isn’t like that. She truly is this sweet, but even she can’t ignore that I was a total douche nozzle. Is she trying to make up for how I came back from my last mission? That would mean she thinks my behavior was her fault, which doesn’t sit right with me. There is nothing wrong with Opal or what she did—I was the one at fault, not her.
Seeing her try so hard to win my approval is like a knife twisting in my chest. She’s not giving up on us—I don’t know what to do with that realization.
“You’re done with the tart?” Opal asks with confectionary sweetness. “Would you like to try the muffin? You stay here and have fun. I’ll go fetch it for you.”
Before she can slip away, I take her wrist. She looks up at me through her long blond lashes as I place my beer down. Taking the tiny leather jacket from over my shoulder, I hold it out for her to slip into. Opal silently does what I want, turning in a circle to model the coat.
“It’s a perfect fit,” she says with a pearly smile.
Just as I knew it would be.
Unable to help myself, I pull her in close, running the back of my hand down her cheek. I kiss the top of her head before tucking her into my side where she belongs.
She doesn’t belong anywhere near you.
This is wrong. I shouldn’t be feeding her false hope, but denying me of her is like forcing myself to give up air. I would suffocate without her.
As the party continues, I don’t let Opal slip away from my side. Several of my brothers have looked at us with relief, happy to see the two of us together. But a few have the balls to openly gawk at Opal in my arms—all the more reason to keep her close. Flay is the worst of the bunch, eye-fucking her in her outfit like she’s the pinup of the month. His reaction to her stirs the possessive devil on my shoulder.
Every head turns when a set of headlights shines over our group, followed by Atlas pulling up on his hog. He walks to the white Subaru, opening the driver’s side door. Jo steps out, close to his side. There’s an audible sigh of relief from the crew seeing Jo with Atlas. None of us could predict how things would go between the two of them after his fuck up. No one was looking forward to dealing with his unreasonable ass if she hadn’t given him a second chance.
I loosen my hold on Opal, knowing Atlas will want to wrap things up with the last mission. Meaning Chase, Atlas, and I will need to congregate inside the garage.
“Ravens!” Atlas hollers to the group. “Behave yourself around my Pixie or I’ll have your balls.”
And my brothers think I’m the possessive one.
“Go greet the Prez’s woman while I talk with him,” I suggest to Opal. “I’ll come find you when we’re done.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
OPAL
Atlas’s old lady is not what I imagined—she’s so much better.
I didn’t approach Jo right away because, honestly, something about the woman intimidates me. Her tiny size and elfin features trick you into believing she’s sweet and docile. But the woman is full of piss and vinegar, with a wicked tongue that puts behemoth men in their place. Watching her interact with the crew is entertaining. Nothing they say or do frightens her at all. If anything, her intellect intimidates the guys.
Interestingly, Atlas has finally met his match. He might hold up the world, but she’s the pixie sitting on top of it, calling the shots.
