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“I doubt you’re that much of an animal.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Emily says, coming up behind me. She gives me a playful hip-bump.
Libby grins, then sticks her tongue out at her sister. “By the way, those marshmallow things were the greatest ever.” Libby touches her fingers to her lips and blows a kiss. “Feel free to bring them by any time.”
“Libby!” Emily scolds.
“I’ll remember next time I’m over that way,” I promise.
Dinner with them is easy. Comfortable. Quieter than what I’m used to. Nothing like the pandemonium of family dinner nights at the clubhouse.
What would Emily think, listening to Ravage rib the married couples about their boring sex lives? Or Charlotte teasing Ravage about never pleasing a woman? Or Sparky coming to the table high as a kite and asking Heidi to refill an order of buzzy cock rings? Would Emily be uncomfortable? Would she want to keep her sister far away from all that chaos?
I’ve never worried about what anyone thinks of my family before. My attitude is usually fuck ’em. Then again, I’ve never tried to make a relationship work with someone outside of the club. Plenty of bikers have citizen wives, who never earn a property patch. They keep the worlds separate. I can’t fathom splitting myself in two like that.
I want a woman who loves my club family as much as I do.
Rock and Z managed to bring two complete civilians into our world and make it work. Hope’s the queen mother to our whole charter now. And Lilly’s the benevolent queen of our downstate charter. Emily’s younger than them, but I can already picture Hope taking Emily under her protective wing.
Get ahead of yourself, much?
I bite into another slice of pizza, catching a string of cheese before it lands on my shirt. Libby’s busy filling her sister in on the play her theater club is working on. I just enjoy listening to them.
“Will you come to my play, Dex?” Libby asks.
I set my slice down and grab a napkin. “Sure. I heard from Grinder that you’re a natural-born star.”
She beams at me, then turns hopeful eyes on Emily. “Think they’ll be able to come again?”
“I don’t know.” Emily shoots a look my way. “Serena’s getting close to her due date, and I doubt she’ll want to bring an infant to the theater.”
Libby pouts for a second. “You can send her video.”
“Sure,” Emily says in a tone meant to pacify her sister, not commit herself to filming an entire high school play.
After dinner, Libby clears the table, then heads upstairs to give us “alone time.”
Emily watches her sister leave with an expression I can’t figure out.
“I can go,” I offer, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asks.
Who knew Emily likes horror movies? She chooses an ominous-looking one that starts off unsettling. The characters are so utterly stupid, it’s borderline offensive to the human race.
“Girl, no!” Emily yelps, startling me.
“Listen to your gut! What are you thinking?” Emily squeals and presses her hands over her eyes. “Someone needs to buy this chick a copy ofThe Gift of Fear.”
I chuckle and wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. She snuggles up against my side, still lively and animated. Only now I can feel her every movement.
Emily watches movies the way she does everything. With passion and lots of keen observations.
“Why do they always have to make the girl the dummy?” she sighs.
“She’s too nice,” I agree. “She needs to get the hell back in her car andleave.”
“Right?” Emily’s cheek slides up and down against my chest in agreement. “Nooo, why is she going in the basement with him? Now I’m just getting mad.” Instead of anger, she bursts into giggles, her whole body vibrating against mine. “Nooo, this issowrong! No woman with a functioning brain would do that.”
