And that was an entirely new concept.
Gunner didn’t stay long after that. He found Maddie and made her promise to behave, then set her up with a movie in the living room as he handed Emilio all of her things. The routine looked like they’d done it a hundred times, and Jude felt something warm in him thinking about all the ways in which he didn’t know this man—and all the time, if he was lucky, he’d have to remedy that.
Jude followed him into the kitchen after Emilio jerked his head toward the door, then he let out a small breath as the man shoved him against the wall and kissed him. Hard. “I hate keeping my hands to myself,” he growled.
He wanted to groan. He wanted to lean into his touch, but he let him go as Emilio walked to the fridge and threw the door open. “I went to the store while you were asleep and grabbed a few things to tide y’all over while we’re gone. I hope this shit’s okay.”
Jude grinned at him, peering over his shoulder at a full crisper and what looked like chicken in cling film on the upper shelf. “As long as it’s not pie made from expired vegetables…”
Emilio elbowed him gently and rolled his eye. “Maybe you can make that again—but with the real shit. You know, so I can compare when I get back.”
Jude’s smile widened, but it faltered quickly at the reminder that he was leaving, and there were no guarantees that he’d be back in one piece. Not with the club on the brink of war. “Will you be alright?”
“I’m a survivor,” he said. He grabbed an apple off the counter and began to peel it with a pocketknife over the sink. “I know all you’ve seen is the worst of what this place can be, but this is just a meeting between potential allies.”
“And if they decide they don’t want to support you?” Jude asked, leaning against the counter. He watched Emilio’s thin, strong fingers cut the apple into pieces that were obviously for Maddie. “What then?”
“Then nothing. Then we come home and know that Cobra chapter ain’t a group we can call if shit hits the fan.” Emilio made it sound easy and simple. And he supposed it had to be. There would be a lot more of the biker world in the public eye if they went around murdering each other in cold blood every time they ran across someone with a different patch on their jacket. Emilio seemed to sense Jude’s hesitation, and after dumping the apples in a bowl, he turned toward him. “This is a first for me.”
Jude blinked at him. “What is?”
“This…shit with Hydra—with some fuckin’ kid getting murdered on our streets. With strangers rolling up in here with a grudge. All this is left over from Gunner and Smokey’s past. And it escalated because some bad decisions were made, and…” He stopped and huffed out a frustrated breath. “And Smokey didn’t communicate with us the way he should have. But we’re getting it fixed, and I wouldn’t be taking Rory of all people on a road trip to meet some stranger if I didn’t think I could get us both home alive.”
The one thing Jude did know was that apart from Eliah, Rory was Aaron’s entire world. And that settled something in him he hadn’t realized was so wound up. “Alright.”
Emilio’s eyebrows hitched up. “Yeah?”
He couldn’t stop a small laugh. “Yeah. Yes.” He reached for him and tugged him close, kissing him. “I trust you. But I think I’ll always worry.”
“You and me both, babe,” he murmured.
Jude let the casual, kind word settle under his skin as Emilio finished plating the snack for Maddie, then the two of them moved into the lounge and settled on the sofa. Jude put his leg up again, the throbbing a little less with his brace, but he was looking forward to getting the damn thing off and being able to move on his own again.
“Did you get hurt?”
Jude realized Maddie was staring at his leg, and he ran his hand down the side of it. “I did. I had to have surgery.”
“Like um… Like Eliah did?”
Jude winced, and he heard Emilio suck in a breath, but he didn’t want her to feel like she’d asked the wrong question. “Well, Eliah got hurt when we were both a lot younger, and his injuries were worse than mine are.”
She stared at him a long minute, then abandoned her apples and hopped up on the sofa, burrowing between them. “Like Melly got his eye out?”
Jude’s brows rose, and he saw Emilio fighting off a laugh. “I suppose so.”
“And how…and how Mimi got his face hurt? But Logan…but he’s Deaf so he didn’t have an accident. He just can’t hear so we have to use sign language.”
Jude looked over at Emilio, who put his hands up in surrender. “I would say so. I would say that all of us fit in here together quite nicely.”
“Hmm. I think…maybe, yeah.” She shuffled a little closer between them and kicked her small legs up on the edge of the table. “Melly, do you think he could stay with us?”
Emilio glanced over at Jude, and there was heat in his gaze. “If he wants.”
“I do like it here,” Jude said very softly, and he smiled when she nestled in a little closer, then turned her attention back to the TV.
16
Kicks didn’t sleep for shit, knowing Jude was just down the hall, but he couldn’t go to him. Though, he didn’t think Maddie would really give a shit if she thought they were together. She immediately took to the other man and hadn’t given him an inch to breathe the entire night. For his part, Jude took it in stride—patient with her to a fault—and even walked out into the garden with her to grab squash for their dinner.
He answered her endless questions and watched her dance and let her teach him a handful of signs that were obvious he already knew. They watched her ballerina show twice in a row before Kicks finally put his foot down and sent her to bed. And by the time he was done tucking her in, he came back to find Jude dozing with his chin resting down on his chest.
He debated about just letting the man sleep there, but he knew Jude’s injury wouldn’t be quick to forgive him, so he ran his hand over the man’s curls, careful not to dislodge the skullcap he wore, which was slightly askew from the sofa cushions.
Jude leaned into the touch without opening his eyes, and Kicks felt his heart racing in his chest. They’d talked—sort of. They’d come to something like an agreement. Jude liked him, he wanted to stay, he wanted to make something out of this. But there were no guarantees, and it settled hot and uncomfortable in his gut.
All the same, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He couldn’t do anything but sink onto the sofa and kiss the other man until his eyes opened, and his lips parted, making the kiss filthier, needier.
He walked him to bed, then blew him right there against the bedroom door, damn-near coming in his jeans when he looked up to find Jude biting the inside his wrist to keep from crying out. Kicks swallowed everything the man gave him, then let himself be yanked up, let Jude kiss the taste of himself out of his mouth.
“Just to tide me over until you get back?” Jude had asked with a small grin.
Kicks said nothing, but he rocked his dick against Jude’s hip for as long as he dared. He tore himself away without release, wanting to hold it, let it fester until he was back and wild with need to be broken apart again.