Page 35 of Savage Devotion
He flips my hair out of the way and slides the chain from my neck.
“I’ve worn that close to my heart since the night…well, that night,” I say quietly.
“And knowing that makes me happier than you could know, baby.” He holds my hand up and coils the necklace in the palm of my hand.
“But this belongs somewhere else.”
13
REAPER
“Does she know you claimed her when you gave her that ring? I mean, you guys might as well be married.”
The next evening, Ash passes me a cold beer and I take it with a tip of the neck in his direction as thanks.
The smell of damp leaves and woodsmoke rolls over me. Bayou water lingers in the air, thick, brackish and faintly metallic, cut with the scent of Charli’s spicy gumbo and cornbread fresh from a cast iron skillet. The Savage crew is all out in the large barn opposite the main house. It wasn’t much at one time, but my grandfather converted it fairly early on into a large party space with small studio apartments up top so people could crash. With a few modifications over the years, it’s now big enough to fit everyone.
My best friend pulls up a chair beside mine and throws his substantial frame into it, feeling the weight of the last few days like I have, no doubt.
“Is the parish quiet?” I ask, ignoring his question about Arabelle with one of my own.
Ash thinks we should go guns blazing and take down the Vultures once and for all. Yesterday I agreed with him. But after sleeping on it, I know a little patience is in order. They are just testing the lines and last night Péril’s shitty MC learned where the line in the sand is drawn. Besides, I want to dig deeper into Euphoria and I can’t ask dead men questions.
Ash nods. “It’s all good.”
I take a hit of my beer and welcome the cool liquid hitting the back of my dry throat. I’ve had about as much vodka as I can take after riding with the Savages for a few weeks. It feels damn good to be back home, my favorite beer in hand and with my people around me. Friends are good to have, but family is better.
I take a deep swallow of my drink and watch Arabelle with Charli. In the short time Arabelle has been in Harlon, they have become good friends, it seems. Which doesn’t surprise me. Arabelle is the kindest person I’ve met in a long time.
Gritting my teeth, I try not to focus on how I can still feel her possessive grip around my cock hours after last coming inside her.
More than that, I can’t believe the woman is carrying my child. I’m going to be a father.
Her rapid heartbeat against my tongue, her supple skin beneath my roughened fingertips. I keep looking at her in the barn’s soft lighting and I suddenly want to know what she looks like spread out on my bike taking my cock while the sun plays in her hair.
She’s so delicate, yet so strong. I can’t honestly say I know her life’s story, but all of me wants to peel back the layers until every minute of her life lives in my brain.
She’s at a table about ten paces from me, talking about some book, smelling of jasmine and honey. A lesser man would already have dragged her away from her book club and demanded she service him.
If I try that, she'd probably kick me in my balls and in the same breath get right back to talking about her books. I can’t make out what she is saying, but every few minutes her hand tucks an invisible strand of hair behind her ear as if she can sense me listening in. Or maybe she can hear the erratic tap of my heart. She’s had it in a constant state of either panic or arousal since I rode up on her taking on the Vulture crew in the middle of Main Street.
The woman doesn’t know when to back down. She’s mentioned a hard life and I want to wrap my fingers around whoever it is that put the fear in her eyes and turned such a wonderful person into someone so jaded.
“You grip that beer bottle any harder, and you’ll regret it.”
“Uhu?”
“Look, man, go over to her and sit with her. Shit, how hard can it be to talk about romance and shit?”
He’s right.
“Harder than you think. I go over there and they say the wrong thing, I’ll He-Man her over my shoulder and you guys won’t see us for days. We have too much on the table.”
Ash works on keeping his cocky grin to himself. “Fair enough. How about I scope out what they are talking about? I’ll signal you if the coast is clear.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Like we are in grade school again? Hard fucking pass.”
He shrugs, not saying anything else.
