Lock (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter Book 5), page 12
She heard noises that sounded like Liv was jumping as she cheered.
“I’ll text you the details on where and when to meet. K?”
“Perfect. And before you go, I wanted to let you know I emailed a very rough estimate for the shelter based on the design plans we’ve discussed so far. It will change as we get into the nitty-gritty of choosing specific materials, furniture, and such. When you get a chance, please give it a look through. If you have any questions, call me any time. If not, you can E-sign, and we’ll be official.”
“Thanks, Bren. We really appreciate how quickly you got to work on this. I’m not worried about the estimate. I’ll sign it as soon as we hang up. Seriously, none of us can wait to get started on the interior.”
Neither could she. This would be her biggest and most lucrative project to date, not to mention how amazing this was for her professional portfolio. They were giving her a very long leash on the design, and her creative side rejoiced at the opportunity. If only all her clients could sign an estimate without worrying about the budget. If only she could live her life that way. She chuckled to herself, then bid her goodbyes to Liv with another promise to join the ladies that evening.
Next on her list was an in-person appointment at an outdated dental office she’d been hired to modernize. The busy morning passed without a hitch, and by the time she pulled into her favorite sandwich shop to grab a late lunch, she’d forgotten her promise to meet the girls for drinks.
That was until she checked her phone and found a text waiting from Liv.
Liv: Six tonight. Bonfire out behind the clubhouse. We aren’t above showing up at your house to drag you out if you don’t show.
Dread settled low in her stomach. At the clubhouse? Where Lock could be? There was no way she could face him after her cowardly display this morning. Or the wanton one where she’d come harder than ever before on his fingers in his hallway. When she’d agreed, she assumed they’d meet at a bar or maybe Liv’s house.
“Gah. Don’t think about it,” she said as she banged the heel of her hand against her forehead.
Her phone chimed with an incoming text.
Liv: I can feel you thinking of bailing from miles away.
Dammit, Liv.
She blew out a breath and tapped out a response.
Brenna: Wouldn’t dream of it. Can I bring anything?
Liv: Just your gorgeous self and an empty stomach.
Brenna: Great. See you later.
“Whyyy?” Brenna groaned. They better have a lot of alcohol.
The afternoon blew by too quickly, and before she knew it, it was time to head to the clubhouse. After a quick trip home to change into something more casual and reapply her makeup—not because she wanted to look fresh in case she ran into any particular man—she was on her way. The drive wasn’t long enough, and within fifteen minutes, she found herself parking in front of the clubhouse way before her brain was prepared for a potential run-in with Lock.
“Hey, Brenna!” Liv jogged down the three steps from the clubhouse porch.
Finally, she wasn’t wearing a super trendy outfit that made Brenna feel like a frump, yet she somehow still looked glamorous in a pair of loose joggers and a fitted T-shirt. She wore designer sneakers that probably cost more than Brenna’s entire outfit, yet her smile was warm and welcoming. Despite her expensive tastes, the woman didn’t have a pretentious bone in her body.
“Hey!” She lifted a bottle of wine. “Couldn’t show up empty-handed.”
“You’re sweet.” Liv hugged her and then grabbed her hand. “Come on around back. I have a super cute setup, and Spec got a fire going a few minutes ago.”
Together, they walked around the back of the clubhouse, where a large beige blanket had been spread out near a raging fire. Someone had scattered chunky pillows around the blanket and placed a platter of snacks in the center. Lanterns sat at the four corners of the blanket, providing the perfect glow to make up for the setting sun. “Wow, Liv, this looks amazing.”
“Thanks. Coming from a hotshot designer, I’ll take that as a huge compliment. Sit. I’ll pour you a glass of wine. Red or white?”
“Um, let’s go white.” She kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the soft blanket. “Where are the other ladies?” she asked as she sat.
“Oh, uh…” Liv averted her gaze. “They’re coming. Brooke is feeding her army of dogs, then she’ll be here. Jo is with her, I believe. Rach can’t make it because she’s working, and I’m pretty sure Harper and Jinx are doing dirty things to each other in one of the apartments over there,” she said, pointing to a nearby building. “They’ll all be here soon. Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Brenna accepted the heavily poured glass of wine.
“To new friends,” Liv said, lifting her glass.
“I’ll drink to that. Cheers.” They clinked their glasses together then Brenna took a healthy swallow of the crisp white wine.
“Whoa,” Liv said, chuckling. “Rough day?”’
Whoops. So much for playing it cool. She gave Liv a sheepish grin. “Uh, no, not really rough. Just got a lot going on in my brain.”
“Yeah.” Liv tilted her head and studied her with a knowing smirk. “Been there, girl.” She glanced at the platter in the center of the blanket. “Oh, crap. I made cookies and left them inside. Let me go grab them.”
“You made them?” Brenna asked as Liv hopped to her feet, glass in hand. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, I drove to the fancy cookie shop and picked them out. That counts, right?” She shrugged with an unapologetic grin.
Laughing, Brenna nodded. “That’s baking in my book.”
“See, we get each other. Be right back.” Liv darted the fifty or so feet toward the clubhouse.
Alone, Brenna inhaled the woodsy scent of the fire. It’d been years since she’d done anything like this, and she should make sure not to wait that long again. Nature was good for the soul. So was girl time.
Oliver would have shuddered at the thought of spending an entire evening outside, even with such a luxurious arrangement. He’d have flipped out if his clothing smelled of smoke at the end of the night or if he’d gotten dirt on his loafers.
Why are you wasting brain power on him?
She gulped another giant swallow of wine as the clubhouse door creaked, announcing Liv’s return.
“I’m drinking too fast. You’re gonna have to catch… oh.” Her breath left her lungs in an audible whoosh of air.
Instead of Liv, Lock stood frozen a few steps from the door. The shock on his face said he hadn’t known she’d be out there. “Oh, hey. Liv said she needed help with the fire. Something about it almost dying…” His gaze went to the large flames jumping from Spec’s impressive fire. “Hmm…”
Brenna sighed. A sinking feeling settled low in her stomach. “That sneaky bitch,” she muttered.
“You say something?” He walked closer to the blanket.
“No, but, uh, I’m starting to think I’ve… we’ve been played.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Liv asked, more like demanded I come over for a girls’ night. She claimed the other ladies are on their way over, and we’re making big a thing of it.”
He scratched at the stubble he must have forgotten to shave that morning. “Brooke and Curly went home like ten minutes ago, and Jinx left to pick Harper up for a beach date. Jo is helping Tracker at the tattoo shop this evening since his receptionist is sick, so I don’t think they’re coming.” He laughed. “Fuckin’ Liv.”
“Yeah.” Christ, they’d been easy to trick.
“Spec’s got his hands full with that devious one.”
“Seems like it.”
Now what…
It’d be nice if her brain worked and she could say something besides inane small talk.
They stared at each other across the blanket as the fire flickered, casting a romantic light on the entire area. Nerves and lust battled inside her. Stupidly, she’d hoped the early morning’s activities would satisfy her desire for him, but it only intensified it. Now, when she saw him, she didn’t have to imagine how incredible it would feel to be touched by him. She knew firsthand, and she wanted more.
“Wanna sit?” It looked like she had no choice but to face the music.
After a beat, he nodded once. “Sure.”
Those muscular legs carried him the rest of the way to the blanket. He sat, taking up most of the unused space. Wearing jeans, heavy boots, and his cut, he couldn’t have looked more out of place on the frilly blanket if he tried, yet something about the contrast of the dreamy setting and tough biker made her want to swoon.
“What the fuck is with all these pillows?” he asked as he yanked one from under half his ass.
Brenna laughed. Thank God for tension-breaking humor. “Ambience, I think.”
He snorted, and silence fell again. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was intense. He had this way of looking at her that made her feel as if he could see her thoughts, and that terrified her. Her brain was so chaotic these days that it would freak anyone out.
Clearing her throat, she stared at her fingers, playing with the fringe on the edge of a pillow. Time to put on her big girl panties and address the elephant in the room or on the blanket. “So, I owe you an apology.” If only she’d had more time to drink her wine. Liquid courage. Instead, she forced her gaze off the fire and onto him.
“An apology?” He stared right at her, not seeming to have the same problem with nerves.
God, this was painful. “Yeah, for running out this morning. Uh, after…”
He tilted his head.
“I was just, um… overwhelmed.”
“Did I hurt you?” Those delicious chocolate eyes filled with concern.
She blinked. “What? No. God no. Not at all.”
A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders as he visibly relaxed.
“Were you seriously worried about that?” Had she been so self-absorbed she didn’t even consider his feelings? Now she felt guilty, which was so much worse than the embarrassment.
He nodded and reached for a cracker. “I figured I crossed a line somewhere. Been stressing about it all day.”
“Oh, no.” She placed her hand on his without thinking. Electricity sizzled between their skin. “I am so sorry. I promise you I liked everything we did.” Her stomach fluttered at the memories. “That was the problem. I liked it too much, so I kinda panicked.”
“You sure?” He kept the intense stare as though trying to dissect her brain.
Brenna huffed and rolled her eyes. She might as well lay it all out there. She could die of humiliation later. “Okay, look, you gave me the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. I got a little overwhelmed and ran away like a chicken.”
A slow, self-satisfied smile curled his lips. “Seriously?” He drew out the word.
“Oh God. Don’t get a big head about it.” He deserved to feel smug, though. It really had been a world-class orgasm.
He laughed. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
Lock leaned in until he was close enough that she could count his eyelashes. Then he whispered, “Apology not necessary. The only regret I have is that my fingers are the only thing to have spent time inside your tight-as-fuck pussy. My dick and my tongue have been jealous all fucking day.”
Thank God she was sitting with the speed the arousal slammed into her because her knees would have buckled right out from under her.
“Lock,” she said on an exhale as she squirmed to relieve the empty ache in said pussy. “Y-you can’t say things like that.”
Straightening back up, he raised an eyebrow. “Why not? Make you uncomfortable?”
She groaned. “Parts of me.”
That had him laughing loudly. “So where does that leave us now? Liv didn’t go to all this trouble for nothing. She’s gonna grill my ass the second she sees me again. Might as well figure out our shit.”
“Right. Well…”
I’d like more of those orgasms. Many, many more. Everyday. I’d also like to sleep in your bed with your arms wrapped around me.
But she didn’t say any of that. She couldn’t. There was no way she’d be able to spend that much time with him and not catch feelings. And developing those kinds of feelings for an outlaw biker whose life was so far from her own would be a disaster.
“I just got out of a really bad relationship.”
He snorted.
“Yeah, you’re aware of that. I just mean, I’m not in a place for anything heavy.”
Lock blew out a breath and stared at the fire for a moment. Then he said, “How much do you know about Caleb?”
“Not much. Just that you aren’t biologically related. And that his mother passed.” She’d assumed the mother had been a recent girlfriend of his unless he’d been married to a woman who’d had a baby.
Oh my God, was he a widower?
“Actually, we are related. Just not the way you think. His mother was my sister. My twin. She died of an overdose when she was eight months pregnant with Caleb.”
Her heart stuttered then filled with pain for a man she’d come to admire. “Your twin,” she whispered. “Oh my God, Lock. I had no idea.” She shifted to her knees and scooted over to him, grabbing his hand. He immediately curled his fingers around hers. “I am so sorry. That must have been incredibly painful.”
“We weren’t close anymore. She’d given up most of her life to drugs, but yes, it was horrible. I had to fight like hell, but a judge eventually granted me custody of Caleb. He was born with a shit ton of medical issues so he had to spend months in the NICU. After dealing with that and the death of my sister, I wasn’t in the right headspace to be a parent, even though I wanted him.”
She could see the pain written across his face as he told his story. It was clear as day as if someone had taken a knife to his skin. The desire she felt for him morphed into something different. Not only did she want pleasure for them both, but she wanted to take away his suffering and promise him he was succeeding as a parent with her words and her body. “Lock, Caleb is great. He’s healthy and happy. You’re an incredible father.”
A dark, ugly laugh left him. “Now, I’m doing an okay job, by some miracle. But I didn’t at first. I spiraled downward fast. So fucking fast. I started using drugs and drinking way too much. I did all sorts of reckless shit to numb the grief, pain, and fear of my newfound responsibilities. My actions led to Harper and Jinx both being hurt. I let down my club in the worst way and almost lost Caleb in the process.” His head bowed, and his heavy sigh told her more than his words could.
His days were filled with guilt and remorse.
Her heart broke for what he’d endured. “I’m so glad you found your way back,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Curly kicked my ass into gear. He and Brooke kept Caleb while I did a stint in rehab so we could keep it off child services’ radar.”
“They’re amazing.” She tightened her grip until her knuckles whitened, but he didn’t seem to notice how hard she squeezed his hand.
“Yes. They saved my ass in a way I’ll never be able to repay, but I’m damn well going to try. Everyday. Paying back that debt is what I live for now.”
Brenna swallowed a lump of emotion. He’d been through so much. What words could she say to show the depth of her appreciation for his trust in telling her that story? “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Maybe keeping it simple was best. Perhaps he didn’t want platitudes or another person to remind him he needed to release the guilt.
He met her gaze. “I wanted you to know. To know me and understand why I don’t have anything to offer you. You’ll heal from your bad relationship and be ready for another, but Caleb and the club own my life. I’ll spend the rest of my days proving to them that I’m worthy of the help they’ve given me.”
What? No. Did he honestly think that little of his worth? If she’d thought her heart broke for him before, she’d been wrong. It fractured into a million pieces, all beating for him. “You can’t—”
He pressed his thumb over her lips. “I have to. It’s the only way for me to survive. I have to show them the man I can be. I have nothing, Bren. Nothing to offer anyone. Caleb is my only family, and I refuse to fuck him up.”
“You’re wrong,” she said as she circled his wrist and drew his hand from her lips. “You’re so wrong. You have the most incredible family. The club is your family, and every man and woman in there loves you.”
He scoffed. “I hurt them. I betrayed their trust. I see the doubt in their eyes. I’m not family anymore.”
She shook her head then cupped his face between her hands, capturing his gaze. His stubble tickled her palms and made her want to feel it all over. But there were more important things to deal with now. He needed to hear these words and make them his reality. “It doesn’t matter. That’s the thing about a family as strong as yours. They forgive. They move on. I dare you to go in there and tell Curly or Brooke they’re not your family, or Liv, Spec, or Tracker. They’ll kick your ass so hard you won’t sit for a week. I’m the outsider here, and I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty every man and woman associated with your club loves you. They love you and have your back. No one holds a grudge or needs or wants you to prove yourself. Only you.”
She could see how badly he wanted to believe her, but the guilt and lingering grief wouldn’t let him. That was okay for now. She’d remind him every day until he believed it.
He was so close, and she wanted a taste of his lips so badly. She knew how they tasted now. How well they fit with hers and how her sex clenched when his tongue tangled with hers.
“You’re too fucking sweet for this life,” he whispered. “Too sweet to be anywhere near us. You should run away while you can.”
Her chest ached, and she spoke the truth she’d been afraid to admit until now. “I can’t. It’s too late. You’ve all gotten under my skin.”
But none more than him. She’d stay for him alone. To make sure he knew how much the people in his life loved him. To watch him succeed and be the one to say I told you so. And to do that, she needed to keep some distance. She’d have to keep her hands, mouth, and every other body part to herself, but mostly her heart. She couldn’t hand that over and probably wouldn’t to anyone ever again. Sure, the chances weren’t high that another man would set her up to be collateral for a biker club, but she’d never thought Oliver capable of such a thing. How could she hand over her trust again after that?
