Page 91 of Making the King

And there it is, the thing these men are too stupid to see. Cain doesn’t want to lose Rocco, and I’m apparently the only one who saw it coming a mile away.

I squeeze Rocco’s thigh harder and murmur, “Talk to him.”

My husband looks quizzically at me, but I’m not going to spell it out for him. If he wants this, he needs to convince Cain. If he can’t, how the hell can he lead an MC?

It’s not like I have doubts. I know Rocco can do it, just as I know he’s the right man for the job. But that doesn’t mean he can skate through it. As a leader, he should have known Cain was going to object—and more importantly, why.

“What the fuck, Cain?” Rocco thunders, sounding equal parts confused and annoyed. “What exactly is your problem?”

I bite down on my lip and run my hand up Rocco’s thigh, very deliberately grazing his junk. If he wasn’t wearing jeans, I might even have had some fun here at the table. But alas, that’s not happening.

Cain slaps his hands onto the table and stands so abruptly his chair falls over. “I said I don’t want to. And we all know I don’t do anything unless I feel like it.”

As Rocco leaps to his feet as well, Baz and Dante snicker, and I roll my eyes because that’s both the truth and a lie all in one. Cain has a knack for finding a reason to want something, and as he says, if he doesn’t, then he… well, then that’s just not happening.

Like when Rose, Alana, Gray, and Gunner made a bet with him to dye his hair green and have it like that for a job. If Cain hadn’t wanted that, it wouldn’t have happened. The crazy fucker had a lot of fun with it, though.

When Rocco hurls an insult across the table and Cain just shrugs it off, I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

“Have you tried asking him nicely?” I ask Rocco as I study my nails. “Without swearing?”

Baz chuckles. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

Dante grins at his pal. “I have a feeling Cara’s about to give us the show for fucking free.”

As I look at them, they both wink and smile in my direction. Huh, okay, so maybe I’m not on their shit lists after all.

Rocco takes a deep breath and runs a hand down his face. The tips of his fingers almost caress the scar, and my pussy throbs.

“Why don’t you want to?” he asks. This time he sounds genuinely perplexed.

Cain throws his hands up in the air. “Everyone is fucking leaving. Dante’s fucking playing full-time nanny across the big ocean, and now you want to tinker with bikes. No.”

And there’s part of the reason Cain’s refused any involvement and leaves the room whenever Rocco talks about the MC.

Dante nods thoughtfully. “That’s not the entire reason.”

“Of course not,” Rocco barks. “What else?”

“You’re bloody blind,” Baz says with an exasperated sigh, and I nod in agreement.

Looking at Cain, I say, “You’re running the Diamond Crew when Dante isn’t around, right?”

He nods.

“And if Rocco’s leading the MC you two will need to work on your communication issues.”

Both Dante and Baz murmur their agreement, and Dante reminds us once again that he has things to do. Something with needing to find a specific pair of shoes or Caitlin will never forgive him. Brat.

“Cain,” Dante prompts, but his second in command just shakes his head.

Having had enough, I speak up. “Rocco, why the hell did you never ask Cain to join you?”

My husband looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Because Dante would fucking kill me.”

“He could try,” I mutter as I palm the knife strapped to my thigh. Then I look up at Rocco. “You could still ask and let it be Cain’s choice.”

“Is that what this is about?” Rocco asks Cain. “You want a fucking invitation?”

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