Page 70 of Hendrix

Tristan squeaked and fanned his face. “Oh my.”

Freya released my arm, strutted over to her man, and rolled up on her toes for a kiss. “Maybe I’ll putyouovermyknee,” she breathed against his mouth.

Colt threw back his head and laughed. “Promises, promises.” Still smiling from ear to ear, he slid an arm across her shoulders and pulled her close to his side, craning his neck to address me and Tristan. “You ready for your first real taste of the Speed Demons, Virginia chapter?”

“Bring it on, handsome,” Tristan invited.

Colt led Freya inside, me and Tristan following closely behind. “Whatever’s said in that room stays in that room. You don’t speak unless spoken to, and you let Prez say his piece. If you’ve questions, or if what he says pisses you off, you take it to him privately and not in front of the club. Got it?”

“Got it,” I agreed.

“Crystal clear,” Tristan confirmed.

The room was wall-to-wall leather cuts. Everywhere I looked, I saw groups of brothers seated, leaning against a wall, or standing at the long wooden bar where a woman popped tops off bottles of Bud, then loaded them onto trays for the club girls to deliver.

On the small stage, three tables had been placed end to end, a shiny wooden gavel already resting in front of the chair set in the middle.

The room buzzed with laughter and conversation. The men’s anticipation made the atmosphere so thick you could almost reach and touch it. Expectancy hung in the air, and suddenly I understood how a man could thrive in a place like this alongside his brethren.

One table before the stage sat empty. We weaved through the crowds toward it, watching Colt high-five and clasp the brothers’ hands as we went. Freya craned her neck and gave me big eyes as her ol’ man seated her at the empty table and pulled the chair beside her out for me.

“What’s going on?” I whispered, turning to Freya.

“I dunno,” she replied, giving Tristan a tight-lipped smile as he took the seat on the other side of me. “But whatever it is, they want us to have a good view of it.”

“I feel like a rock star,” Tristan muttered. “Everybody’s gawping at us.”

I looked around, immediately feeling my face heat as I noted the covert looks and stares being thrown our way.

“This table’s reserved for the ol’ ladies, Carina, and Cece,” Freya advised us quietly. “I think the guys are curious, is all. Word’s probably got around that you’re the famous Anna.”

My face scrunched up. “Famous Anna?”

“The woman who broke Prez’s heart.” She grinned.

My eyes bugged out at her words. “I never broke Hendrix’s heart. He broke mine.”

Freya laughed. “Prez went back for you, and you told him to go to hell.”

“Because he ghosted me,” I said defensively. “He left and didn’t even tell me he was going. That’s a pretty final nail in the coffin of any relationship, doncha think?”

“You’ve got a point,” a humor-filled voice drawled from beside me. “But we did have a lot going on at the time. You know, with our old VP mutineering and trying to take over the presidency and all.”

Slowly, my neck swiveled to take in the lady taking the seat on the other side of Freya, immediately recognizing her as the bartender who was popping the tops off beer bottles when I walked in.

Once she was settled, she leaned across the table with her arm outstretched. “Hey! I’m Ciara. Resident biker agony aunt and truth-teller. My friends call me Cece.”

Smiling, I took her hand in mine. “Good to meet you. I’m Anna.”

“I know.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Heard a lot about you, honey, and I’m seeing why our prez is smitten.” Her eyes flicked down to my baby bump, and a wide smile stretched across her face. “Ooh wee! Well, ain’t this a turn-up for the books. When are you due?”

“I’m heading into twenty-two weeks,” I informed her. “So just over halfway there.”

“Beautiful,” she murmured, her gaze focusing on somebody over my shoulder. She jumped up and waved. “Carrie! Over here, honey.”

I turned to see a pretty dark-haired woman approach the table. She slid into the seat next to Ciara and heaved out a big sigh. “My feet are killing me.”

“The cottage?” Ciara asked.

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