Page 19 of 23 Hours

Blimp taps me on the elbow in support, knowin’ what I’m gonna say after yesterday.

“There was a woman at the gate last night. She drives the yellow truck you’ve seen parked out front.” I checked in on it before church. It’s safe. White Boy took care of it.

I wait for someone to throw a sexual innuendo. When it doesn’t come, I scan the room of my brothers, of the men I’ve had at my side for decades. This should be easy, not hard like it was for me to leave Kit in my house when I came to handle club business on no sleep. I left a note for Janie and one for Kit in case I wasn’t back before they woke. God knows what’s going on there right now. I wish I knew.

* * *

Kit

Stretching both arms above my head, my knuckles hit a wooden headboard as I yawn and pry my eyes open.

I fell asleep in Gunz’s office last night. I remember that much. This place is too nice to be a clubhouse bedroom—white walls, blue comforter, and dark oversized manly furniture. There’s a die-cast motorcycle on the dresser beside three family pictures—one of a man who looks like he could be Gunz’s brother. There’s the same blonde from his office picture in another and a tan girl with black hair with a baby in the third. That must be Janie and Dom. The nightstands flanking the bed are strangely neat and tidy, with brushed nickel lamps and white shades. Whoever decorated this room knew what they were doing. Is it weird that I pictured Gunz’s bedroom covered in naked posters of women and Harley emblems? Stereotypical, much?

“Morning,” a soft, accented voice whispers.

I nearly jump out of my skin. “Shit!”

In the doorway, with an auburn-haired baby boy on her hip, is Janie. I quickly sit up on the bed and tuck the blankets around my waist. “Hi. Sorry, you startled me.” Out of habit, I comb my fingers through my hair to straighten out the inevitable bedhead.

“I’m Janie.” She waves. It’s awkward, like she doesn’t know what to say or do with me. The feeling’s mutual. Out of politeness, I wave back.

I’d planned on staying in a hotel in town last night. Now, I’m here, in Gunz’s house. In his bed, no less. Not what I expected. None of it has been. Not the meeting, not the long and easy-flowing conversation last night. Not a thing. I’ve been living on my own for years, now that Adam has decided crashing on his buddies’ couches is more fun than dealing with Mom or having a stable roof over his head. I live a mundane life that revolves around keeping my kid out of trouble. Obviously, I’m doing a bang-up job of that, too. Sleeping in a strange man’s bedroom when I haven’t kissed a man, let alone slept with one in over three years, is… unsettling.

I lift the edge of the blanket to my nose and inhale deeply. My eyes flutter closed in pleasure.Mmmm…Spicy men’s cologne and rain detergent—orgasmic.

“Gunz left a note for both of us.” Giving me a funny look, Janie points to mine on the nightstand. I quit being a weirdo and release the blanket to peek at said note. It’s on a ripped half sheet of paper, written in small, messy handwriting, signed Erik, not Gunz. I smile at the sight, even if it’s ridiculous. We’re not some long-lost lovers and he’s left me a sweet note. I think I’ve watched one too many Hallmark romances. Those are a secret obsession of mine, especially the Christmas ones.

“Thanks.” I lean over without falling off the bed, pick it up, and rest it on my thigh to read after she leaves.

Janie bounces the boy on her hip as he gnaws on one of those cookies for kids. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. The bathroom’s just here.” She thumbs to the hall outside the bedroom.

Out of politeness, I force a closed-mouth smile. “Great. Thanks.”

Offering a nod of goodbye, Janie exits, and I’m left to my own devices in Gunz’s very clean bedroom. I know, I already said that, but it still surprises me. There’s not a sock on the floor. Not a smudge of dirt on the wall. Sure, there’s a pair of old leather boots by the dresser, against the wall. Even those are mud free. Adam could learn a thing or two from his father.

His father.

Jesus, I can’t believe I’m here. On a biker compound, in a biker’s bed, and he’s the reason I have a son. It’s surreal.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I take it one step at a time.

First things first. Read the note.

Kit,

I smile at my name scrawled diagonally across the top. Apart from Mel, short for

Melanie, nobody’s given me a real nickname aside from him.

Don’t worry, your virtue remains intact. I laid in the living room after I carried you to my place. I lost your sandals somewhere along the way. I’ll find them when I can. I have a meeting with the brothers in the clubhouse this morning. It might run long. If you’re up before I get back, please don’t leave.

Mi casa es su casa.

Janie knows you’re here. I promise she doesn’t bite. I can’t say the same for Dom. He’s an ornery fella.

There’s food and drinks in the fridge. Help yourself. If you need a shower, you’re welcome to mine. I’m sure there’s something in my closet that’ll fit you, even if it’s too big. Borrow whatever.

Looking forward to seeing you again,

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