“I know,” I whispered.
He pulled in a breath through his nose.
Then he stated, “That scene we had where I watched that monster tear into you, lady, you gotta know I don’t wanna take you back there but this shit is goin’ on too long.”
Oh no.
This wasn’t happening. Not now. Maybe in a week. Or three. Or one hundred and fifty.
“I’m not ready,” I stated hurriedly.
“My job to make you ready.”
I clenched my teeth and looked away.
“Lanie, baby, look at me.”
I looked back and he dipped his face close.
“You need to talk to Tyra and not about us.”
That feeling swelled inside me, growing, taking over. “Hop—”
“She does not blame you.”
“Please stop talking.”
He shut his mouth. Then he shifted to put the bottle of bourbon on the counter and came back to me, lifting his other hand to curl it around my neck and his face again came close.
“Hold it back, hold it at bay, for now, control it like you got to, lady, but do all that letting this in,” he started and I didn’t think that was a good start so I braced.
It was good I did.
“I have never been shot. I have never watched someone I love die. But I have carried the burden of feelin’ I f**ked up and someone got hurt because of it.”
“Hop—” I tried.
“Listen, lady,” he whispered.
I shut my mouth.
Hop kept going.
“Black got whacked because my girls talked. I struggled with that for a long time. He left two boys and an old lady, the Club takes care of them but that’s not enough. That’ll never be enough. She hasn’t moved on. She loved him so goddamned much, she unraveled and she never wound herself back together. That weighed heavy on me, baby, until Tack noticed and we talked it out. He made me get that I didn’t drill rounds into our brother and I didn’t yap to the wrong people, puttin’ him in danger. I did my job, carrying out the orders he gave me. He told me he also carried the same weight because he gave the orders that led to Black being brought down. But the bottom line for both of us was, we didn’t do the deed. You did what you thought was right, Lanie. But you never stuck your girl with a knife. You gotta let that shit go.”
“Will you stop talking now?” I asked, my voice small.
I understood logically what he was saying but for some, malevolent reason, that monster in me fed on the guilt and it was growing out of control.
I knew Hop saw this when he replied, “I will but I’m givin’ you fair warning, you’ve had time. That time is runnin’ out. You mean somethin’ to me in a way, for a man, he wants the world to know it. I’m proud you’re on my arm and in my bed and I want to share that with my family. Don’t keep takin’ that away from me.”
I stared into his eyes as the monster deflated inside me.
Poof!
Then I tucked my chin and planted my forehead in his chest.
Oh God.
I was in love.
God. I’d fallen in love with Hopper Kincaid.
“You gonna find it in you to help me slay that monster?” he asked, his arms moving around me.
No, I probably wasn’t.
I just knew right then Hop had it in him to do it.
Still, I answered, “Yes, Hop. But give me a few more days. Okay?”
“You got it, baby.”
You got it, baby.
I had it.
I love you, I thought but the words didn’t come out.
Instead, I wrapped my arms around him and held tight.
“What’re we doin’ for dinner?” he asked.
I closed my eyes and held tighter.
He was letting it be.
I so totally loved him.
I opened my eyes and dropped my head back. “Takeout?”
“Works for me.”
I gave him a shaky smile.
His return smile wasn’t shaky.
“Hop?”
“Right here, lady.”
“Find it in you to give Shy and Tab a chance.”
“You already talked me to that conclusion, babe.”
Yes. I was in love with Hopper Kincaid.
“Good,” I whispered.
“Chinese, pizza, or Mexican?” he asked.
“You pick.”
“Mexican,” he decided.
“Perfect,” I agreed.
He dropped his lips and brushed them against mine, his ’tache tickling me.
Then he let me go and went to the fridge to get a beer.
I watched him, thinking, a badass biker in faded jeans, a faded black henley and beat up motorcycle boots. He needed a haircut and a shave. He used profanity way too often. And there were shadowy things in his life he had to protect me from.
But, yes.
All that was perfect.
Absolutely.
Chapter Fourteen
Get Him Back
Three days later…
I stood at the sink in Hop’s bathroom, wearing nothing but my underwear, looking at myself in the mirror, so I didn’t miss it when Hop, in a pair of cutoff black sweats, slid in behind me.
I watched with some fascination as he wrapped his flame-tattooed arms around me and dropped his head to touch his lips to my shoulder.
His mustache tickled and I felt that thrill on my shoulder and down my spine.
He needed a shave, like four days ago.
I didn’t tell him this because, although he needed one, I liked it that he was a man who didn’t care.
He lifted his head and caught my eyes in the mirror.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Sure?” he pushed.
“No,” I whispered.
Today was the day.
I’d told him the night before that I was ready. I was going to take off work a bit early the next day, hit Ride and talk to Tyra.
I’d had several conversations with Tyra since the Tabby and Shy drama went down to make certain all was well, and because she shared that prior to the faceoff in the Compound, she and Tabby had had a scene. Ty-Ty felt badly she jumped to conclusions about Shy and she’d hurt Tabby, who she adored.
Further, we’d learned that Tabby’s mother had shown on Chaos when she was not wanted (and when the boys told you that you weren’t wanted, any sane person would stay away) to share the news that Tabby’s grandmother had died. So I also wanted to see if Tabby was okay without bothering Tabby, who’d had a rough couple of days, in order to ask.
So I was going to Ride to take my friend’s pulse.
I was also going to Ride to talk to her about how I felt about what befell her because of Elliott and the decision I made and… God… to find out how she felt about it.