What will trigger her next time?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rooster
I’ve never been religious but today I’m convinced heaven consists of watching your woman get dressed. Wearing nothing more than a steel-blue satin and lace bra with a pair of jeans, Shelby’s bent over, jamming her feet into her new boots. I’d offer to help, but I’m enjoying the view way too much for my tongue to function properly.
“What do you think?” Shelby stands and slaps her hands on her thighs, drawing my attention to her legs encased in tight blue denim. She turns from side to side, showing off the blue and gray boots.
“Sexy as fuck.” I’m really glad she got over whatever was bothering her yesterday and let me buy them for her.
She shakes out a steel-blue tank top and holds it to her chest, obscuring my view. “Shonda gave me one of these. Is it okay for me to wear it around?”
“Hell, yeah.” My charter has a similar shirt—our skull and crown with a simple LOKI spelled out underneath in big block letters. A way for brothers to identify her as important to the club without scaring civilians with large, obvious MC symbols. “You’re supporting your man’s club, but it’s tame enough to wear around non-affiliated folks.”
“Ooo, I feel special now.”
“You are.”
She slips the stretchy tank on and stares down. “Hmm, it’s a little tight.” She winks at me. “I’m sure that’s deliberate.”
“Looks good to me.” I reach into my backpack and pull out a blue-checked flannel. “Wear this over it if it makes you more comfortable.”
“It’s kinda hot for flannel. Does it bother you? I can change.”
I stalk closer and curl my finger in one of her belt loops, yanking her to me. “Already said I like how it looks on you. I’m not the guy who’ll tell you what you can and can’t wear, Shelby.”
“I meant because we’re here, with your club. I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“If anyone has an issue keeping their eyes off you”—I raise my fists in the air, fighter-style—“I’ll be happy to give them a free therapy session.”
“I’m sure you will.” She rests her hand on my shoulder, then tugs the collar of my shirt aside. “Oh, shoot.”
“What?” I tip my head at an awkward angle, trying to see what she’s so interested in.
“I think I left hickeys on your neck.”
I rumble with laughter. As if I’d ever be mad about that. “Feel free to mark me as yours whenever you want, chickadee.”
“Is that right?” Her eyes gleam with mischief. She opens wide and playfully bites my side through my shirt.
“Shit!” I jump, laughing at the same time. “That fucking tickles.”
She does it even harder, moving around, locating all the ticklish spots I never knew I had. She even adds in some nom-nom noises until we’re both laughing uncontrollably.
“Stop. Stop.”
Instead of stopping, she loops her arms around my neck and leans up to kiss my cheek. “I like when you laugh. You’re so serious most of the time.”
“No one else has the nerve to try and tickle me.” I tease my fingers over her ribs. She flinches and giggles.
My damn phone buzzes on the nightstand and Shelby pulls away. “I hope it’s nothing bad.”
“Nah, it’s probably Jiggy.”
She glances around the room, pats her pockets, and almost seems confused for a few seconds. “Shoot, I don’t even know where my phone is. Haven’t thought about it in days. My mom probably tried texting me when she got home.”
“She texted me last night after you fell asleep. I told her you’d call her today.”
“You didn’t tell her…about my…about me freaking out, did you?”
“No,” I answer gently. “You didn’t freak out. It was a normal response after all you’ve been through.”
“Didn’t feel normal,” she grumbles. “I felt like a dang fool.”
“Don’t. There’s no reason to feel foolish. You need to deal with everything in your own way in your own time.” I just hope I’m with her if it happens again, although I don’t say that out loud. No reason to jack up her anxiety even more. “Now, your phone I can help you with. Greg replaced it.” I reach for my backpack, unzipping one of the outer pockets where I’d stashed her new phone. “It should be all ready for you. Might have to charge it, though.”
She stares at the box in my hands. I can’t tell if she’s mad, nervous, or something else. When she doesn’t take the phone, I set it on the bed. “I was waiting until you asked for it. I didn’t want you overwhelmed with stuff as soon as you got out of the hospital.”
Her bottom lip trembles but she reaches for me, sliding her arms around my middle and pressing herself against my body. I hug her back. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For knowing what I needed.”
Relieved by her response, I blow out a long breath. Truth is, I have no fucking clue. But I can’t calm this raging desire to protect her no matter what.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rooster
After a morning of endless irritation, I finally return to the clubhouse. It takes me a few seconds to line up and park the way I want. Jigsaw waits patiently before pulling Ice’s truck in next to me.
“Think she’s back from rehearsal yet?” Jiggy asks.
“I hope so.”
This afternoon, the clubhouse is quiet. No one setting up for any wild parties. Yet.
Inside, Shelby’s in the main room, talking to Anya and Trinity.
“Hey!” She jumps up and rushes over. “I was wondering when you’d be back from your top-secret mission.”
Next to me, Jigsaw snort-laughs. “You still didn’t tell her?”
“It’s a surprise,” I growl, elbowing him to shut him up. I lean down and kiss Shelby. “Come out to the parking lot with me for a minute.”
“Am I gonna like this surprise?” she asks Jiggy.
He throws his hands in the air and jerks his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug.
Ignoring his antics, I reach for Shelby’s hand and tug her toward the door. My blood boils at the fading bruises on her arm as she slips her fingers through mine. “How’d rehearsal go?” I tuck her close and kiss the top of her head.
“Better than I expected, honestly.” She rubs her free hand over her throat. “Feels less raw today. And the music came easier.”
“The few days of rest probably did you good.”
She hums an affirmative noise.
We stroll outside and into the parking lot.
“Now that’s cool.” She stops and points to the camper and truck. “When I was a kid, I used to sing at fairs and stuff sometimes. I always envied the families that pulled up in their RVs and stayed for the week.”
“You guys didn’t stay?”
She shrugs. “Best we could do was sleep in the cab of my dad’s truck. Four of us tucked in tight wasn’t a whole lotta fun.”