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Running my hands through his shaggy blonde hair, I leaned over him, making a mental note that he needed to get a haircut. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to make you read to me.”
He smirked. “Not today.”
Shaking my head, I opened the book as a shadow slowly moved to stand over me, blocking out the sun.
Looking up, I found myself surrounded by several men, each one standing with their arms crossed over broad chests, but it was the one in the middle that had me gulping. Standing over six foot six with jet black hair and a scruffy five o’clock shadow, the man stared at Solomon, who laid comfortably, eyes closed, waiting for me to read to him. The man was in his late forties, with a straight Roman nose, defined cheekbones, and a powerful jaw. His ice-cold blue eyes against his dark black hair sent a chill down my spine.
This wasn’t a man I wanted to cross.
“You must be my daughter-in-law, Sunny,” the man clearly said as my husband stiffened, eyes snapping open.
Before I could blink, Solomon was on his feet and standing in front of me, protectively growling as the two men glared at each other.
Placing the book down, I reached for Solomon’s hand as a man with white hair smirked, watching me intently as Slaughter and Bullseye moved closer.
“What are you doing here?” Solomon growled, his hand gripping mine firmly.
“You think I wouldn’t come when my son needed me?”
“Don’t need help.”
Whispering, I asked, “Solomon, who is this man?”
My husband growled, slowly shaking his head.
“Not going to introduce me?” the man challenged.
“Sunny, Hawk. Hawk, Sunny.”
The man with white hair ignored the two brooding men and smiled, holding out his hand for me to take. Releasing Solomon’s hand, I looked at the man with white hair as he said, “I’m Logic. What are you reading?”
“The Count of Monte Cristo.”
He nodded. “Good book. Have you read Macbeth?”
Shaking my head, I muttered, “I tried, but Solomon doesn’t like that one. He keeps hiding the book.”
“Yeah, the kid never liked the part with the three witches.”
“Papa!” Soleil chirped, running towards her father, crashing into his leg before he could bend over and pick her up. The visitors stared, slowly smiling, as our daughter added, “Papa, look. Made you a picture.”
Solomon grinned at our daughter before saying, “It’s beautiful, my little sun.”
“Who’s that?” Soleil asked, looking at Hawk, who stared longingly at our daughter. Before Solomon could answer, the large man whispered, “I’m your grandpa, little dove.”
Soleil turned to her father, who sighed and nodded. “Hawk, my daughter Soleil.”
“She’s beautiful,” Hawk said as his eyes glassed over with unshed tears as Bullseye walked closer with Savage and Slaughter. “Sandman, introduce us.”
Every newcomer looked at Solomon, waiting to see what he would do. Had to admit, I was curious too. He never talked about his past or any other family. There was a lot we didn’t know about Solomon. What we knew wasn’t good. According to Remi, Solomon’s birth father died the night he was born, and the club took him from his birth mother. While Jessica’s mom, Cassandra Montclair, briefly took care of him in his younger years, he spent most of his upbringing in Florida with a man named Toxic. And from what I gathered the man was just as evil as his name.
“Bullseye, this is Hawk... my dad.”
The second those words left his lips, Hawk gathered Solomon and Soleil in his arms, hugging them both as the men behind him smiled, sighing in relief.
“Did you know Sandman had another family?” Stella asked, taking a seat next to me as I watched the men head for church.
Shaking my head, I worried about Solomon. He didn’t enjoy talking about his past. I never pushed him, allowing him to speak when he felt comfortable. I had a feeling that the club would be eager to find out the nature of the connection between my husband and this other club. I just worried they would push Solomon past his breaking point.
