AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why a goat?”
I’m racking my brain but I can’t think of a meaning. His other tattoos are hawks, words, or cool, manly pictures. But a baby goat? It seems out of place.
Merch smirks at me. “What’s a baby goat called?”
Uh, fuck. What is a baby goat called? What kind of crappy childcare worker will I be if I can’t remember that?
“A kid,” I say at last, proud of myself for remembering. Merch doesn’t speak, his eyebrows raising like he’s waiting for me to get it. “A baby goat is called a ki-.”
Holy fucking shit. I point to myself, my words cutting out, my mouth falling open. Merch grins, nodding slowly. He got a tattoo of a baby goat on the back of his hand because he calls me kid? That’s too cute. And so sexy. Wait.
“Do you call me kid because I remind you of a babygoat?” I shriek. Merch snorts, shaking his head. He drops my hand, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and hauling me close, pressing a kiss into my hair.
“No. I call you kid because that’s what you looked like at the fairground with your butterfly face paint when you were taunting me.”
“You called me kid to put me in my place because I was bugging you?” I guess. Merch tips his head to the side.
“Yeah, pretty much,” he agrees. “Plus, you’re five foot nothing.”
“Five foot two,” I mutter mutinously. I’ve always been touchy about my height. I just stopped growing. It’s so not fair.
Seizing his hand, I carefully examine it while he steers me back to the clubhouse. The detail is incredible.
“Cockerel is really talented.”
“He’s the best,” Merch agrees. “That’s why we’re in business with him.”
“I’m going to be looking after his baby when it’s born,” I offer.
“Good. I’ll lord that over him when he wants to make me wait my turn to get any tattoos done.”
“We didn’t wait tonight.”
“Yeah. I could see you were nervous. I didn’t want you to have to sit there and stew.”
I’m glad he didn’t. I would totally have chickened out and bailed back to the clubhouse.
As we walk through the clubhouse doors, Merch’s arm drops from around my shoulders, curling around my waist, his hand carefully sitting on my hip so his fingers frame my new tattoo, drawing all eyes to it.
MERCH
All eyes are on Shelley’s new tattoo, and I feel purely smug. That’s right, you fuckers, she’s mine. Of course, it’s not just the brothers who have noticed. At least three groupies look like they’ve sucked lemons.
I have no idea why it should bother them. I haven’t touched any of them in months. You would have thought they would have seen the writing on the wall – but apparently not.
As we pass Joey, she shoots an oblivious Shelley a look of pure venom. My eyes lock with hers, promising a life of hell if she even thinks of coming after my woman the way she and her posse came after Lisa.
I helped hold Palmer off when he was gunning for her blood, but he won’t return the favor. She eventually lowers her eyes, looking like she wants to hit someone. As long as that someone isn’t Shelley, I don’t give a fuck. That’s her issue.
As we cross to the bar, Palmer and Lisa turn at something Viper says, looking over at us. Their eyes dip to my hand, and Palmer snorts, shaking his head. I grin, flipping him off as he drops his arm around Lisa’s shoulders.
I see Wren walking out of the corner of my eye, followed by Bruiser, cradling his daughter against his shoulder, covering her other ear against the noise, and glaring murder at everyone. A path opens up for them, so they aren’t jostled. Wren’s eyes land on us, and she grins, giving Shelley a thumbs up – like this is fucking high school or something.
We’re almost at the bar when Viper moves away from Palmer and Lisa, strolling over to us. He bends, dropping a kiss on Shelley’s cheek while I glare at his shock of blond hair, trying to set fire to it with my eyes. Lifting his head, he flips me off, grinning down at Shelley.
“Congrats,” he drawls. She smirks up at him.
“For not crying like a little bitch when I got stabbed a million times?” she guesses as I laugh. Viper blinks at her and snorts.
