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I smiled and hugged him around the middle a little tighter.
“What about your plan to go dancing?”
“This is part of the plan, trust me. I asked a friend to drop by and she’ll bring some clothes for you to choose from.”
My smile wavered slightly. Why did I feel a sting of jealousy at the thought of another woman with Axel? I had no claim on him.
Dozens of questions raced through my head as we sped along the road, shifting our weight into every curve, leaning together without exchanging a word.
Was she pretty?
Had they dated before?
Or were they more like a friends-with-benefits situation?
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice we’d returned to Merry Field until Axel pulled to a stop and parked outside of an apartment building. I followed him inside to find a woman was already in his apartment, probably somewhere near forty years old, judging by the streak of silver hair at her right temple. She wore snug-fitting, low-riding jeans with a thick black belt, and a Jack Daniels Whiskey t-shirt. Bags of clothes were piled on a nearby table and lined the hallway.
“Beth,” Axel said. “This is Alexandra. She’s the fiancée of our club President, Brewer.”
Alexandra extended her hand with a firm shake. Her posture was relaxed and easy, confident. I liked her immediately. She looked like someone who didn’t tolerate being told what to do. A lump of guilt rose in my throat that I’d been so judgmental before I’d even met her.
“As the President’s old lady, you’d think that would be a pretty sweet position to be in,” Alexandra said. She gave Axel’s chest a friendly pat. “Instead, I’ve got my hands full on a regular basis. It’s not easy keeping nine sarcastic little shits out of trouble.”
Axel chuckled as he headed for the kitchen.
“You know damn well we wouldn’t be the same without you. Want something to drink?”
“Whiskey would be great,” she replied.
“Coming right up.”
Alexandra turned her attention to me with an appraising look.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, sweetie,” she said. “When Axel texted, he told me that you needed some help picking out clothes to go dancing tonight. But you’re a model. I probably don’t have much to offer when it comes to advice.”
I fiddled with the cuffs of my sleeves, not sure how to respond.
“Someone else has always been in control of my wardrobe before. Not me. I usually wear what people tell me to.”
Axel returned, passing Alexandra a glass of amber-colored whiskey. She swirled the ice thoughtfully as she regarded me.
“And tonight is about making a statement,” she said. “You need something that says a bigfuck you. Is that right?”
I blinked in surprise. How much had Axel told her? I thought this was supposed to be between the two of us.
Axel leaned against the kitchen door frame, watching my interaction with Alexandra. Had he told his entire club about what was supposed to be our secret?
“Alexandra knows a thing or two about controlling assholes,” he said.
She nodded.
“The Alpha Riders helped me ditch my ex-fiancé a few years ago. When I tried to leave him, he wanted me dead. Your secret is safe with me.”
“What about the club?” I asked.
Axel shook his head. “Haven’t told them. Although Diablo might sniff out the truth eventually since he can’t seem to mind his own damn business.”
“That’s the thing about getting involved with a club man,” Alexandra put in. “They’re a package deal. If you get one, you get them all. For better or worse. But they’ll keep their mouths shut about it. We protect our own.”
