Page 100 of Red's Peril: Part 1

“Of that I’m well aware,” she replies with a smirk.

And that’s another thing I’d thought she’d find hard to ignore, open sex in the clubroom. But it seems she’s capable of disregarding it without censure.

“It’s your house, Red. I’d be a poor visitor if I complained about the way you live your life.”

“But you don’t approve of it?”

She grimaces. “If I’d known, I’d have doubted Don was faithful long before it was thrown in my face. How could he have pretended to be a biker and not have gone with the girls? He’d have stuck out like a sore thumb.”

“Not really,” I correct her. “While he was prospecting, the girls would have been off-limits. And even when he was patched, he’d not have to put on a show. We don’t grade men on their sexual prowess. There’s plenty that don’t partake of the free sex, and we think nothing of it.” In particular, I remember how I was always fooled by Joker having “a woman in town”, when women were not his preference. Of course, a lot of things had come together when Joker and Lady had come out. As prez, it had hurt most that they’d thought they’d be censured for their sexual leanings. I’d wished they’d trusted me. It was the secret they’d kept to themselves that had upset me, not the reason behind it.

She listens to my explanation, then flinches. “So, Don was an ass. I just wish I’d seen it earlier. Of course, he didn’t want me when he had the likes of Mel, and the club girls to tempt him.”

“Skull was fuckin’ blind,” I growl. Her words give me an excuse to make a visual assessment of her, reminding me once again of the woman I’d lost. She’s everything I’d be looking for in an old lady if I were on the hunt.

When she shrugs, not believing me, I want to convince her. Convince her by showing her exactly what her presence here does to my cock. I’m mostly hard when I’m around her.

But she’s a guest here. And she’s married to an enemy of ours.

The devil on my other shoulder whispers into my ear,she’s getting divorced. And she’d make a fucking great old lady.

The devil’s words slam into me. The way she is with the men, the way she fits in with Rosa, why shouldn’t I take a chance on starting something with her?

I’d given up on having my own family, so why shouldn’t I take Skull’s? Wouldn’t that be the most fitting punishment?

Acting impulsively had got me nowhere with Cheryl, so I decide to take things slow.

Once the idea gets lodged in my head, it seems to get stuck there. I find myself in the clubroom more often. When she’s seated, I try to sit beside her. When I’m leaning forward to get my beer one day, I put my hand on her thigh, and a sideways glance shows me she’s blushing, but she doesn’t evade my touch.

When I talk to her and a strand of hair escapes from her hair tie and falls over her face, more than once I’ve brushed it back, noticing how she’s shivered as my fingers brush her skin.

She’s been here at the clubhouse for a couple of weeks now. It’s no longer a surprise to see her in the kitchen cooking alongside Rosa or playing with Delly in the clubroom. Twelve-month-olds seem to have a lot of toys, I’ve found, and brothers seem unable to resist bringing more back. Rope turned up with a plastic ride-on motorcycle the other day, even though she’s too young to ride it as yet. But Delly loved to sit on it and screamed with delight when she managed to roll it a couple of inches with her chubby legs.

Yeah, my brothers are softies when it comes to kids.

Chapter Thirty-Five

When Delly took her first steps, the brothers took the opportunity to have a party, while I relished the fact that Skull was missing all of this. It was at that party to celebrate the achievement of her child—as if she was the first kid to ever learn to walk—that I decided to test the waters.

Naturally, the party continues long after Delly has been put to bed.

I sit, beer in hand, watching Clare and waiting for my chance, which comes when she walks into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. She’d had a couple of glasses of wine, but having responsibility for her daughter, was clearly restricting herself. I’d followed her in.

As she holds her glass to the tap, I come up behind her, leaning against her and imprisoning her body between my arms, hands resting on the counter to either side. She jumps and turns her head, then seeing it’s me, she sighs.

“Skull was an idiot.” I speak quietly, directly into her ear. “He had no fuckin’ idea what a prize he had.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“I disagree.” Turning her around, I take the glass out of her hand and place it down safely. “You’re an amazing mom, and an incredible woman. You take everything in your stride, and you take no shit from anybody. You’re also,” raising my hand I brush it down her cheek, “beautiful.”

“Red—”

As she goes to protest, I stop her. “I’d like to kiss you, Clare. You gonna be okay with that?” I hope she fucking is.

Her teeth worry those lips I hope mine will soon be touching. “I’m married.”

I tense. “You going back to him?”

---