It was now mortgage free and had a tenant by the name of Gage living there.
Which stopped it from being my house, because I didn’t even want to entertain what twisted shit he’d gotten up to. He’d put me to shame.
But we weren’t going there.
It was weird, taking your boyfriend home to meet the family. Much weirder when your family was a motorcycle gang who would shoot anyone they decided wasn’t good enough. It was off the reservation when your boyfriend had not only met but arrested at some point or another almost everyone in that entire family. Had spent a previous life trying to take them down.
But this wasn’t that life anymore.
He wasn’t coming to raid the compound, look for evidence.
He was coming as my boyfriend.
My heart was thundering so hard I wondered if it might jump right out of my throat. I had never been this scared on a single mission in Venezuela.
That might’ve been because of the visit—the unexpected one—I’d had from Cade a few days prior. I thought it was a good idea to call ahead and tell him Luke was coming so I didn’t spring it on him and my brother didn’t shoot him on reflex.
After I’d told them, there was silence on the other side of the line. “Hello? You didn’t die, did you?”
“I’ll be there in two hours,” he growled, then hung up.
I didn’t think my older brother would actually drive that far just to yell at me.
I should’ve known better.
He and Gwen turned up a little over two hours later. I reasoned the delay was because he didn’t want Gwen coming. But she was there. Because he was a marshmallow.
Not right then, though.
“Him?” he roared. “Really, Rosie?” He began to pace the room. “I know you like to push the boundaries, consider yourself a rebel amongst rebels, but this is fucking….” He ran his hands through his hair.
“Love,” Gwen interjected quietly, eyes on me and then her husband. “This is love, Cade.”
I’d adored my sister-in-law since the moment I met her, but right then, I could’ve kissed her feet. For her gentle gaze and strong vote of support. For going up against Cade. For me.
He glared at his wife, but there was no iron behind it. “It’s fucking not,” he hissed. “It’s Rosie being Rosie.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “Seriously, dude?”
“Don’t call me dude,” he snapped, real anger directed at his wife. “I’m your man.”
Another eye roll. “Yes, you’re my man,” she agreed, eyes twinkling. “But you’re also acting like a dude.” She said the word so it sounded like an insult. “You’re not blind, Cade Fletcher,” she continued, her voice softer. “I know you like to think that you only see black, white, and red. That you don’t see the emotional underpinning of this world we live in. The love.” She gave him a look. “But I know better. You taught me better. You saw inside me what I didn’t even know existed. That maybe I didn’t want to know. So you’re not going to bullshit me and say you don’t see it in your own blood. This is Rosie being Rosie. Acting for Rosie. Not for you, not for the club, not for the countless women who owe their happiness and sanity, at least in part, to her. She is finally following her heart. You know the one that beats for the club? The one that all your grumbling men treasure above all else yet take for granted? The one that you’re trying to blindly protect but instead are breaking by being the pigheaded macho man holding onto ancient grudges that don’t mean shit if your sister’s happiness and future are a casualty of it?”
He blinked at his wife. His glare was still in place, but it wasn’t directed at her. His eyes changed, the entire structure of his body changed, under the weight of his wife’s words. I thought he might still yell. Swear. Throw something.
He didn’t do any of that. Instead he stared at his wife.
“Fuck, I love you, baby,” he murmured.
Gwen grinned. “I love you more.”
So he’d left drunk on Gwen, forgetting to even give Luke a death threat.
There were no guarantees, though.
Luke’s hand fastened over mine, stilling them when I hadn’t even realized they were moving.
He rubbed his thumb over my palm. “You’re fidgeting,” he observed.
He was driving again, his truck this time. And I didn’t mind because that meant I’d gotten to take healthy swigs of the margarita I’d put into a sippy cup before we left.
I glared at him. “Yes, that’s what people do when they’re nervous.”
He smiled at me, and damn if my glare didn’t just melt away. It wasn’t as if I’d never seen Luke smile before, but I hadn’t seen him really smile. Showing me he was happy, unobtrusively. And that I was the reason. Unobtrusively.
It quelled my nerves, that smile. Only a little though, because I was picturing a bullet, or at the very least a fist going through it as soon as we arrived.
Luke’s hand moved to engulf mine and bring it to his lips so he could lay a kiss on my palm.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said.
I huffed but didn’t take my hands from his. “That’s what people always say right before everything goes to shit.”
He chuckled. “Shit with you isn’t shit, babe.”
I gaped. “You’re not nervous? Worried about the state of your body when you leave versus when you arrived? Because I am. I like the state of your body. The muscles and stuff, obviously, but the whole breathing and walking and talking thing too.”
“I would’ve thought you might be happy if I was mute for a bit,” Luke teased. “I always seem to piss you off with the talking.”
I roll my eyes. “It would piss me off more if you didn’t do it.”
“Babe, we’ve got this, okay? You always think of the worst because you’ve always had to. Because too often, you’ve had the worst,” he said, face turning serious. “But that’s done with. No more worst, not before it goes through me. And your family will have to put a bullet somewhere to change that. But they won’t, because they love you. I’ll take a punch, babe. I’ve had worse.”
I sighed and hoped he didn’t get worse.
It was like Cade sensed that someone was coming to challenge his masculinity, because he was waiting in the parking lot, shades on, arms crossed when we parked.
“Oh, Jesus,” I muttered. “He’s decided to go Leon: The Professional.”
Luke smiled and got out of the car.
I was too busy stewing to be quick enough to get out at the same time, which gave Luke the opportunity to get my door, which he groaned about not being able to do. Some of the good guy remained, the best parts.
“Ready?” I asked as he grasped my hand and walked toward Cade.
“Since you were five years old,” he murmured.
I glared at him. Of course he’d say something that sweet right as we stopped in front of my brother, the man who looked like he might actually shoot Luke.
“Rosie, go inside,” Cade barked.
I turned my glare to him, who was directing his murderous stare at Luke, who, surprisingly, was mild-faced.
“Hello to you too, big brother,” I snapped.