Page 93 of The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker
“Sarah’s helping the club with something important. I can’t cut those ties completely. Not yet.”
“And once it’s handled?”
“Once it’s handled, she goes back to Stone Security full-time, and her reasons to be around the club become a lot less frequent.”
I nodded, trying to process what being with Jake truly meant. “So, this is really what dating a biker is like? Complicated alliances, rivals breaking into your mum’s house, car park fights?”
“That’s the hard part, yeah. But there’s more to it. The brotherhood, the loyalty, the family we build.” His eyes held mine. “The way we protect what’s ours.”
The possessiveness in those last words sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m starting to understand that.”
“And it doesn’t scare you off?”
I thought about everything I’d seen since I met Jake. The violence. The danger. But also, the way Jake treated his mother and those he cared about. How the club looked after their own. The fierce protection they offered to those they considered family.
“I’m not saying it doesn’t scare me,” I admitted. “But lately I’ve been thinking that maybe some things are worth the worry.”
His features softened in a way that made my heart squeeze. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” I smiled, leaning in to press my lips to his. “Usually by people frustrated with my coding style.”
Jake laughed against my mouth. “I’ve got a much better appreciation for your . . . style.”.
His hand slipped beneath the shirt I’d stolen from him and made its way up my body to palm my breast. I saw the moment his brain switched from feelings to porn, and then he was kissing me hard, like he couldn’t stop if he tried.
We might have stayed there all morning, lost in each other, if his phone hadn’t buzzed on the bedside table. Jake grumbled when he checked the screen.
“It’s Scott,” he said, mentioning his president. “I need to take this.”
“I’ll make coffee,” I said, kissing him one last time before sliding out of bed.
He caught my wrist, eyes dark with promise. “We’ll be finishing this.”
In the kitchen, I moved with the easy familiarity of someone who’d made coffee here dozens of times over the past few weeks. It still amazed me how quickly Jake’s space had become mine too, how his initially sparse apartment now contained traces of me everywhere. My laptop on the coffee table. My favourite blanket over the couch. My colour-coded meal planning calendar stuck to his fridge.
I heard his deep voice from the bedroom, the serious tone telling me this wasn’t just a casual check-in with his president. After what happened with Jake’s mum and the confrontation in the car park last month, things with his club have been tense. I don’t know a lot, but I do know the situation isn’t resolved. I hoped this call didn’t mean things were escalating.
He emerged a few minutes later, his expression giving nothing away as he joined me in the kitchen. I handed him his coffee and waited.
“Everything okay?” I asked when he’d taken a sip. I never expected details about the club, but I always liked to check in to ask if things were okay. To make sure he was okay.
His free hand found my hip, drawing me closer. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“That’s what you always say,” I pointed out. “And then I end up worrying anyway.”
“That’s because you like to analyse every possible scenario.”
“It’s called being prepared.”
“It’s called overthinking, darlin’.” His eyes held a smile. “But I love that about you.”
His casual declaration caught all of my attention and slowed my brain down. In the time we’d been together, Jake had been very clear about me being his, from the terms of endearment he used, to the filthy words he growled in my ear during sex, to the possessive way his hands were on me while out in public, but he’d never used the word “love” in any way.
Before I could process this development, he said, “I have to go out for a couple of hours, but I was thinking that when I get back, we could take a ride up the coast if you don’t have any work you need to do today.”
“I’d love that, and I have the perfect route for us!”
He grinned. “I don’t fuckin’ doubt it, darlin’.”
