Page 30 of Wild Desire
He chuckles and kisses me again. “Remind me why we’re here again?”
He’s only half joking. At home, in Paul’s cabin, we’ve initiated the reading dinner. Not every night, but if one of us is in the middle of an unput-downable book, or if we just don’t feel like talking, we’ll both read our books while we eat.
To outsiders it might appear strange, like we don’t have anything to talk about. But for us, it means we’re comfortable enough with each other that we don’t need to talk. I love our reading dinners, and our nights sitting side by side in armchairs with the fire going and a good book each.
Some nights, instead of reading, I write.
I finished my first book, and Paul helped me figure out how to self-publish. I put my book up for sale and was surprised that some people bought it, and they left good reviews. I’ve since written another and am onto my third.
I love writing short over the top alien romance, and there are readers who love my stories. It’s not bringing in much money, but I don’t need much. I’m happy, and I feel like myself for the first time in years. That’s all I need.
I extract myself from Paul and head into the clubhouse kitchen.
“The meat’s ready,” I let Isabella know.
She claps her hands together and stands up from the chair that’s been dragged in for her. “Right ladies.” She takes charge; as the old lady of the Prez, the women listen to her. Isabella expertly directs who to take out salads and who to take out plates and cutlery. She gives tasks to some of the older children who are keen to help.
I grab a bowl of pasta salad from the fridge and carry it outside.
Soon we’re all seated on the picnic tables passing plates of food around. There’s the sound of easy chatter and the clinking of cutlery. The kids are at a small table of their own with Isla and Luke sitting with them, helping whoever needs it.
Paul is on one side of me and Sydney on the other. “Do you want some soda, Cassie?” Sydney asks.
She pours me a glass full and tops up her own. “How are the books going?” she asks.
I swallow my mouthful. “Good.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Just good? Specs was telling me you’ve sold a bunch of copies and you’re onto your third book.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and I steal a glance at Paul. I hate talking about myself, but he gives me an encouraging smile.
I turn back to Sydney and search her expression for any sign she’s teasing me. But she seems genuinely interested.
After so long in fear of being judged, it’s hard to talk to people about my writing.
Isabella’s cackle from the next table has me glancing up. She’s got a forkful of food in one hand and the other arm is around Raiden. I missed the joke, but she catches my eye and gives me a big grin.
I glance around at the tables of bikers and their women and the gaggle of children. They’re my family now, and there is no judgement here.
I turn back to Sydney. “Better than good, actually. It’s going really well.” I tell her about the books I’ve sold and the next plot I’m working on. She listens intently, genuinely interested.
The clinking of glass has everyone falling silent. Raiden stands up and clears his throat.
“It’s great to see everyone here tonight, and there’s something special we’re celebrating.”
Paul slides his arm around my waist, and I lean against him.
“We have a talented bunch of people in this club,” Raiden continues. “And now we have our first published author.”
Heads turn to our table, and heat spreads up my neck.
“Congratulations, Cassie, on your first published book.”
I’m not used to attention, and I want to burrow into Paul. But when I look around at the expectant faces with their glasses raised in a toast, a different kind of warmth spreads though me.
I found a place where I belong, where I’m accepted for who I am. A place where I’m seen.
“Thank you.” Tears spring to my eyes as I raise my glass to my big biker family.
