Page 3 of Royal Sons MC

Oh, he liked her sass. Now, he just needed to convince her to go to the suicide help meeting, or maybe he could help her. He knew all about thinking life was over. Five years ago, he was sure his time was up. He’d never heard of a man getting breast cancer. For fuckssake, he didn’t have tits like a woman. Sure, he had pecs. Hell, he worked out and had muscles, but not huge man boobs. He had a nice six-pack and felt he was good to go. No, he wouldn’t win any bodybuilding competitions, but he didn’t give a shit about them. He’d had women say they could wash their tongues on his abs...and he’d let them. Ahh, the good old days.

“Hey, you okay?”

Shit, he needed to keep his head on straight.

“My name’s Tymber Black, by the way,” he blurted.

Big green eyes widened. “Oh, um, I’m Ivy.”

He moved off the wall, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ivy. Would you like to go grab a cup of coffee and discuss our superhero status further?”

Wariness filled her gaze. “Is that a euphemism for let’s go have sex?”

Her pale hand trembled in his large one. “Sugar, when we have sex, there will be no euphemisms. I’m not one to worry about being too harsh or blunt. If I have something to say or feel something I need to speak on, I say it. Life is too short to play those types of games.”

IVY LOOKED DOWN ATtheir clasped hands. His tan, rough, work-hardened ones had tattoos on them. They seemed so different to hers. Oh, not that she didn’t associate with men with similar-looking hands, far from it. Most of the men she knew had plenty of tattoos; only they were big, badass men who gave no quarter. She shook her head, clearing it of thoughts of anyone but the gorgeous man in front of her. “Alright,” she said before she could stop herself. “Coffee sounds great.”

He laughed; the rich sound made butterflies dance in her stomach. “There’s a great little place around the corner called The Brew and Sip.”

She knew it was probably a bad idea. Probably on the top of her ten worst, but she nodded her agreement. Her hand still clasped in his felt right, which was one hundred percent stupid, so she pulled away. “I’ll meet you there,” she stuttered, hating how unsure she sounded. Goddamn, where had the cocky girl gone?

“You going to drive around the block? Come on, Ivy Irish, live a little,” he implored, smiling, showing a dimple on his right cheek. Tymber reached for her hand again, his touch gentle like he was used to wary women. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Her heart lurched at those words. The same ones she’d heard dozens of times, only to be shunned. With a force of will that her mama said she came out of her womb with, she pasted on a smile and squeezed his hand before breathing deeply. “Lead the way, lumberjack.”

“You know, that nickname kinda turns me on.” He winked. Before she could respond, he began pulling her back down the hall, away from the door she didn’t have the guts to walk through. Next time, she promised herself.

Chapter Two

They walked out thefront door, her hand still enclosed in Tymber’s. He was a complete contradiction. He dressed like a...well, a lumberjack. Yet he had the manners of a gentleman but talked of sex with her like it was a given. Her body said get it, girl, while her mind was throwing up all kinds of stop signs. He was precisely the kind of guy she was attracted to, the kind of man she would’ve dated. The exact type she should be running in the opposite direction from instead of holding his hand while they walked to a coffee shop together, thinking about what sex with him would be like. Or, at the very least, pumping the fucking breaks. Instead, she let him hold her hand and lead her wherever he wanted. Damn, where did the Ivy, who’d promised herself she’d make wiser choices go?

“Penny, for your thoughts,” Tymber said in a deep voice, interrupting her internal struggle.

Ivy did a mental shake. “I was thinking how ironic this is.” Which was true. She’d gone to the center looking for a...a what, she wasn’t sure. Absolution, solace, a place to vent? Maybe a little of all three, only to chicken out and come face-to-face with a man who made every inch of her wake up and take notice.

He didn’t respond as they reached the coffee shop. The heavenly aroma of freshly brewed beans had her inhaling deeply. “Lord, I love that smell. If I could, I’d have it bottled up in a perfume.”

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