Page 141 of Scatter the Bones

I dress in a simple pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Hopefully no one will be all done up at breakfast this morning.

There’s a low murmur of voices, then a thump in the hallway. A man’s voice. I cock my head. Jigsaw?

A few seconds later, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

As soon as our eyes meet, his serious expression softens. “Hey, you’re up.” His gaze sweeps over me, and his mouth curves into a smile that melts straight through me. “Already so pretty this morning.”

The warmth in his voice sends a flush over my skin. “Thank you.”

He crosses the room in two strides and dips his head, brushing his lips over mine—soft, reverent. The suddenness steals my breath, and I gasp against him. His hand slides into my hair, fingers curving around the back of my head, holding me still as his hot, silken mouth deepens the kiss. Heat flares through me as his tongue slides against mine, unhurried and possessive.

I sigh into him, threading my arms around his neck. He hums with approval and gathers me close, one arm banding around my waist, the other still tangled in my hair, like he doesn’t want to let go.

A quick burst of knocking rattles our door.

He breaks the kiss with a frustrated growl, resting his forehead against mine. His breath fans my lips, and for a second, I think he’s going to ignore whoever it is.

“You ready for breakfast?” he asks, like choosing food over kissing is a punishment he’s forced to accept. “Everyone’s headed down to the kitchen.”

“Are…are those girls still—?” I hate the way my voice quivers. I’m not scared of them—my knife rests heavy in my jeans pocket this morning—but last night was humiliating enough. I’ll melt into the floor if they embarrass me in front of the whole club that way.

“Gone.” His voice is firm and leaves no room for doubt. “Prospects know not to let any of them in the gate.”

I let out a shaky breath of relief.

He scrubs a hand over his face, then shakes his head. “We ended up banning our old president’s wife last year?—”

“Really?” I blink up at him. “Wow. Why?”

“She pulled a nasty trick on Serena.” He frowns, jaw working side to side. “Tawny had been a problem no one wanted to deal with for years. She got to hide behind her old man’s president patch. But what she did to Serena was the final straw.” His lips curl into a cruel smirk. “I pushed hard for that ban and G had my back today.”

“Wow.” I hate that I’m about to ask this, especially after what he told me about Serena’s ex last night. But I can’t help it. “So, I’m not the only one who’s run into trouble with other women in the club?”

“No.” He frowns. “Those women weren’t ‘in’ the club. Just—club girls who hang around here sometimes. But yeah, I told you it happens. It shouldn’t, but it does.” He says it like it’s a fact of MC life he’s had to accept even though it pisses him off.

For a few seconds, neither of us say anything. I study his hard, but handsome face. How many other stories are there? Is he giving them to me in drips so that he won’t scare me away?

As if flipping an internal switch, he turns and walks over to his closet, sliding the door open. “Hey, you look really good, but will you wear this for me instead?” he asks, his voice low and so achingly sweet I couldn’t say no even if he handed me a pillowcase.

Thankfully, it’s a soft, faded blue hooded sweatshirt. I take it from him, fingers brushing his for a second too long, and hold it up to inspect the design. The skull and crown are printed in blue on blue. A subtle design. A whisper of his club’s insignia instead of a declaration.

“Am I allowed to wear it?” I tease, peeling off my own sweatshirt and tossing it onto the bed.

“Yes,” he answers in a slow, teasing tone. “Only thing youcan’twear is my cut.” His tone dips lower. “But I love you so damn much, I’d probably break that rule for you.”

“Wow, that is love,” I tease, pulling his sweatshirt over my head. It’s huge on me, but so soft and snuggly. “You know you’re never getting this back, right?”

“Fine by me.” He reaches out and adjusts the hood, his fingers slipping beneath to free my hair from the collar. “I like you in my club’s colors.” He brushes his knuckles along my jaw, and I lean into him, helpless against the gravity of his touch. “Looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He curls his fingers around mine, his palm warm and steady. “Ready? We don’t do the elaborate buffet like Upstate, but Lilly brought muffins and pastries from this bakery she loves. They’re actually really good. And there’s coffee, of course.”

“Oh, Lilly’s here?” That makes me feel better. Lilly seems to have such a kind, calming presence. My nose wrinkles. “Is Stella gone?”

“Eh, she’s still lurking somewhere. Lilly gets along with her.” He wobbles his free hand in the air. “Like, they’re cordial. I think it was really Z who didn’t want to be here to celebrate Stella, you know?”

He respects his wife too much to put her in that situation.I like Z even more now.

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