Page 41 of Undone

“Club business is nothing I ever want you to worry about.”

“Impossible. That’s impossible, since my man is the Prez.”

I frowned. I didn’t want to ruin the moment as the big, red bridge came into view. I didn’t want my sweet angel anywhere near Club shit. “There it is. Home, sweet home.”

I slowed my truck and maneuvered back into the slow lane so my girl could have more seconds to enjoy her first ride over the infamous Golden Gate Bridge.

“I can’t believe I’m actually here with you. Right now, in this moment… I’m so happy.” Her eyes shone as the lights from the bridge reflected through the glass, met her eyes, and bounced back up to the sky.

“Me too,” I whispered, kissing her hand as we reached the apex of the bridge and started going down. She smiled at me then turned, practically pressing her nose to the glass as she looked at everything that was new to her but old to me.

“My mother wants to meet you this weekend.”

“She knows about me?”

“She’s…. ecstatic about you, babe.”

“Great. Now, I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. How could anyone not love you?”

“Well, I am almost thirty and still single.”

“You ain’t single, darlin’.”

She blushed, shifting in her seat no doubt still feeling the after effects of me still inside her. I threaded our fingers together again and talked while her eyes continued to soak up San Francisco like a sponge.

“Is that Alcatraz?”

“It is.”

“It’s much closer to shore than I imagined.”

“Everyone says that. But don’t let that fool you—these waters are rough, cold and full of hungry sharks. Don’t ever attempt to go in.”

She nodded and smiled as we passed an infamous San Francisco trolley car. I purposely got off the highway to take her through the city. It added a good half hour but fuck it—putting the lights in my girls’ eyes was much more important to me than making good time.

“Can we do that tomorrow?”

“Ride a trolley?”

She nodded.

“Jesus, first I shaved my burly beard off—next I’m ridin’ a damn trolley? The men are gonna laugh their asses off and demand to see if I still have my balls or if you took them.”

She stilled. “No one. No. One. Is going to make fun of or question my man, or I’ll shave their damn balls right off.”

Luce was pissed.

All barely five feet of her was determined to smack down anyone who made fun of me. I brought her hand to my lips. “Babe. You are a little tigress. But save your claws for me. Of course, I’ll bring you. We’ll ride the trolley all damn day. I’ll wear my cut while we do it, too. We’ll have lunch at Fisherman’s Wharf, feed the sea lions, and do other touristy shit if you want.”

“I want,” she whispered, eyeing me hungrily. “I want it all.”

“Done. I’ll give you everything, Luce. Just stick with me. Although, I’m warning you right now—the sea lions are loud and smelly.

“So? They’re just like men then.”

“Funny, babe.”

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