Page 41 of On The Rocks

Bowie swiped his mouth with his thumb thoughtfully. “So, you’re fucked then?”

“Nah,” my mouth denied, while at the same time, my brain wondered if maybe I was.

Since we got back to Hambleton and Maeve flew back out two days later, I’d discovered something weird and very unsettling.

I kinda missed my little wifey.

Throughout the flight home, I tried to get her to talk to me. I needed to break the ice and at least get us to a place wherewe could discuss the convo she’d overheard with Shannon. But Maeve just gave me a cold look, turned away, and feigned sleep.

It was crazy how, one short week ago, I’d have done anything to replace my wife with her stepsister. Now, I couldn’t imagine being married to anyone other than Maeve Monroe or Maeve O’Shea as it stood now.

I smiled to myself.

Maeve O’Shea had a nice ring to it.

“Yo. Fucknut,” Atlas called from the window where he’d been talking on his phone.

I jolted out of my daydream. “What?”

He pocketed his cell, jerking his chin toward the street. “Either there’s another cute, klutzy little redhead come into town, or your Mrs. is home.” A wide smile spread across his face, and he turned to me and waggled his eyebrows. “And it seems she’s found herself a knight in shinin’ leather.”

The bell above the door gave a light tinkle. The instant it cracked open, Maeve almost fell through it with a crash. “Shit on a stick!” she exclaimed.

“You okay, babe?” a deep voice asked from outside, busting out a laugh.

Maeve pulled herself straight, turned toward the guy standing in the doorway behind her, and let out a hearty chuckle. “Oh my God,” she cried. “I’m such anincompoop.”

“Jesus Christ,” Atlas grunted, grinning down at his boots.

Bowie stepped to my side and gripped my shoulder. “You’re well and truly fucked.”

My heart gave a hard thud, and I moved toward the door just as Carbine strutted inside, loose-hipped walk and all. “Morning,” he greeted, his mouth stretching into a bright smile. “Just saw this beautiful lady struggling off the bus with her bags. She said she was coming here, so seeing as I was coming here too, I thought I’d be a gentleman and help her out.” He swungMaeve’s bag off his shoulder and hauled it onto the bar. “What you got in there, babe? Any sexy undies?”

My body locked, and a growl rumbled through me.

Maeve’s cheeks turned pink.

Atlas threw his head back and roared a laugh.

“Oh myGod,” Maeve cried out again, her gaze catching on the SAA. “Iloveyour tattoos. They’reawesome!”

Atlas preened.

“And Iloveyour crow’s wings,” she announced. “They’re sorad.”

“Got ‘em done by a dude over in Mapletree,” Atlas rumbled. “Though if you ever want one, our Virginia chapter has a guy, Picasso. I’ll see if he wants to come for a little vacay, and he can ink ya.”

“That would be so darn awesome!” Maeve breathed. “I always wanted a bookish tattoo. But I’m not sure I could choose. It’s like, how do you pick just one? It would be like picking a favorite child.” She stuck out her hand. “Hey! I’m Maeve! Nice to meet you.”

Something inside I didn’t even know was out of sync clicked into place, and I flinched slightly. My eyes fixated on how gently Atlas took her hand.

“Hey, Toots. I’m Atlas. Sergeant at Arms of the Speed Demons.”

Maeve’s gaze zeroed in on his leather vest, and her eyes sparkled. “Your cut looks fantastic. It’s just like I imagined.”

His black eyebrows pulled together. “You know the real name for it? Wouldn’t have thought a nice girl like you would run in MC circles.”

“Oh, w-well,” she stammered, her cheeks pinking again. “Callum told me he was friends with the local MC, so I read a couple of books about biker club etiquette because I know that’s a thing. Then, just to make sure I had it all straight in my head, Iread a few MC romances, so I kinda have an idea about cuts and Prezs and hogs.”

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