CHAPTER THIRTY
Brick
Two months later
“Keep your eyes closed, Starlet!” How many times do I have to tell the woman to cooperate? “It’s not a surprise if you can see it before we get there.”
“We’ve been riding in a circle for at least an hour,” she complains from behind me, giving me an extra squeeze.
She’s right, I had to take her on a long ride to keep her guessing where we were going. I didn’t want her to know we were only a few miles away from the clubhouse. In fact… I turn off the main road then, onto a private driveway. I bought Shorty’s cabin six weeks ago and have been working on it every night since, making it special for Starlet, for us.
I park and climb off my bike. Starlet doesn’t move.
“Well?” she asks.
I love when she’s pouty. “Well, what? Get off the bike, we’re here.”
Her eyes pop open and she squeals in that high pitch tone that makes me want to dig a deep hole and crawl inside it.
“This is Shorty’s cabin.” She studies it for a long moment. “Wait. Something is different. The color?”
“Yeah.” I painted the outside dark brown with green trim, added shutters and garden boxes on the windows. There’s flowers blooming everywhere, compliments of Angel and several other old ladies.
“Why did it take forever to get here?” she asks, sounding suspicious.
I reach inside my cut and produce a key. “Here, sweetheart. Unlock the door.”
I wait as she climbs the three stairs and opens the door, stepping inside. Another screech sounds and I shake my head.
“Brick!”
“What?”
“There’s new everything in here. Stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, leather furniture in the living area. A room divider with a queen-sized bed. Wait.”
I join her inside, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest.
“Why is there a name plate with Austin and Starlet painted on it hanging over the wood burning stove?” She spins around and stares at me.
“Welcome home, baby.”
“Home?”
“All right, halfway home. Our little getaway.”
“Y-you bought this place?”
I nod, thrilled by her reaction. “Shorty wanted it to go to someone who would fill it with happiness again.”
She swipes at her eyes. Starlet cries whenever she’s emotionally overwhelmed—something I appreciate about her. That tenderness has awakened something long dead inside me, the need to be a part of the human race again, to crave intimacy, and maybe someday, my own family. The cabin is my first step in proving that to Starlet. We need an escape from the clubhouse.
“We can live here fulltime?” She walks over and throws her arms around me. “Thank you, Brick.”
I give her a long hug and then step out of her embrace. “Not yet, baby. There’s still possible fallout over what happened between us and the Devil’s Crusaders. Silence is a bad thing.”
There’s been little movement by Silver or his club. Eagle arranged for a longtime Iron Norsemen from an out of state charter to pose as a prospect for the Crusaders. A brilliant move on my prez’s part, the inside information has proven invaluable. “Maybe in another year we can start talking about buying a house together.”
“What about me going back to work at Juanita’s shop? I’m getting restless, Brick.”
I know she is, and don’t blame her. “Not yet.”
“There’s only so much to do around the clubhouse. And I’ve read everyone’s cards a dozen times or more. Even Axe’s.”
“What?”
“Yes,” she confirms. “Axe asked me to read his cards the other day.”
I drag her to the sofa and we sit down together, the soft cushions and new leather smell making me relax. “Didn’t know the asshole believed in that stuff.”
“I wouldn’t call him a believer, maybe card-curious.”
I laugh at her choice in words. “And what did you see in his future?”
“That’s privileged information.”
I whip around and tickle her sides. “I have ways of forcing it out of you, woman.”
“Torture? More specifically, Brick torture tactics?”
“Of course.”
She purses her full lips. “Then I’m not talking.”
“I’ll remember that tonight,” I say, picturing her naked and stretched out on the bear fur in front of the wood burning stove. Shorty had the time and money to install central air in the cabin, so if we really want to get cozy, I’ll turn the AC down as far as it goes, chill the place, and light that damn fire. “We have three days together, no cell phones, and no interruptions from the club.”
“Really? How’d you pull that off?” she asks, leaning her head on my shoulder.
I can’t give her details. But I took care of Lane Bullock’s little problem last week, leaving Dwight’s body in a bayou somewhere outside of New Orleans. “Earned it with due diligence, sweetheart.”
She sits up and digs her cell phone out of her pocket. “Here—I willingly surrender my only connection to the outside world to you.”
I turn it off, doing the same with mine, dropping both in a decorative bowl on the coffee table. We’ve been through hell with the Devil’s Crusaders and struggling to find our way back to some kind of normal existence. The day I shot Checkers left serious psychological scars on both of us. Not because I killed him, but because Starlet was in the mix. If I’d missed by one hair, she’d be dead. Though we’ve never talked about it directly, we’ve hinted around it, agreeing there aren’t any words for what we both almost missed out on—our lives together.
Those kinds of memories don’t just scar your mind, they sear your soul. And I remember it every time I look at Starlet. She’s beautiful and fierce—but delicate in so many ways. I tilt her chin up so she has to look at me. “I’ve got you, baby.”
“I know.” She squeezes my hand. “And I’ve got you.”
I tap my fist over my heart. “Right here.”
Hours later, we watch as the sun sets, leaving a trail of fiery colors in the sky. This is how it’s supposed to be. “I like it here, Starlet.”
“No regrets?”
“Maybe one,” I say.
She looks at me.
“That I didn’t take the time to build a deck on the front of the cabin. It’s a pretty tight fit on these stairs.”
She laughs. “Bet the cabin is nice and chilly.”
We relocate inside. Starlet rummages around in the kitchen while I throw some wood in the stove, getting a good fire going. The next time I look up, she’s standing in front of me, wearing nothing but a lacey white pair of panties with a tray in her hand. I lick my lips as she kneels next to me on the carpet—tempting me with her luscious body, champagne, strawberries, and chocolate syrup.
“Found all of this in the refrigerator,” she points out. “Guess you had this planned for a while.”
“Guilty,” I confess, caressing her breasts, wanting nothing more than to be inside her.
“I forgive you.” She dips a plump berry in the chocolate and feeds it to me.
I take a greedy bite. “Damn…”
“Want another one?”
I nod enthusiastically, stripping my cut and T-shirt off. She offers me a second strawberry. I feel a dribble of warm chocolate running down the corner of my mouth. Leaning close, she licks it off, and I growl.
After we finish our treat, she urges me back on the throw and frees my erection. She climbs on top of me, easing me inside her. I close my eyes as she starts to move slowly, grinding her body in the perfect rhythm, taking me deep and crying out my name.
I lace my fingers with hers, enjoying the way she looks with her head thrown back, making love to me in a way Starlet only can. We’ve grown close over the last two months—it might as well be two years. Then I think about the engagement ring burning a hole in my front jeans pocket. Sometime over the next day or two, I’ll find the courage to hit my knees and beg her to be my wife.
But not right now.
I gaze up at her. “You’re amazing, baby.”
“Brick…”
“What, baby?”
“I-I…”
“Want me to finish this?”
She nods, and I gently flip her onto her back, then pull out long enough to lose the rest of my clothes. “Mine,” I say as I thrust inside her again, her wet warmth a fucking sanctuary I never want to leave.
“Yours,” she says.
I capture her mouth, tasting champagne and chocolate. “Never forget it, Starlet.”