“I thought she might like to know people have her back.” She shakes her head in admonishment. “Even though she hasn’t shared with me what she’s running from, it’s obvious something happened. She walks through the world like she’s afraid of whatever is around the next corner. It’s no way to live,” her voice drops to a whisper with the last sentence.
I want to tell her that I know I was talking shit, which I didn’t even mean. But I don’t. I’m a fucking coward.
The disdain in the look my sister points my way makes my gut clench. I hate disappointing her; I always have. Being her big brother was a source of pride while growing up. She would look at me like I was her hero.
Now she’s looking at me like she doesn’t even know me.
With one more look weighted by her disappointment, she turns and storms toward the clubhouse’s kitchen. The moment she’s out of sight, my entire body sags.
“She’s not wrong,” I mumble to myself more than anyone else.
Sidewinder slaps my shoulder, his voice amused, “You better hope she doesn’t say anything to your girl. Talk about digging yourself out of a hole.”
I don’t even bother refuting his words. They saw through me long before I tried to downplay the way I feel about Graycie. The last thing I should have done is pretend I didn’t fall for my woman with a single look.
Do I think it’s going to be easy to convince her she’s mine? Hell fucking no. Do I think I’ll have to work really fucking hard to earn her trust? Without a doubt.
I’m going to have to show up and show her who I am. It’s the only chance I have to claim the woman who walked into my life full of fear.
“Yeah,” I huff, “if she says anything, I’ll be fucked and it’ll already be an uphill climb.”
“I don’t envy you,” Ryder chuckles.
When I glance at him, he doesn’t look even the least bit sorry. I guess he doesn’t need to.
“Good luck,” there’s a hint of longing in Sidewinder’s voice which I can’t quite place.
I scrub a hand over my face and wonder how the fuck I’m going to be able to keep it together long enough to show Graycie I’m the man for her. The first step is to go to Bunz Out.
Even if I only get a glimpse of her, it’ll be worth it.
CHAPTER 5
GRAYCIE
I pull another tray of cookies out of the oven and slide the next one in. Moving around the kitchen feels meditative and I’ve been doing it long enough for it to feel like second nature at this point. It’s a damn good thing too because part of my mind is stuck on meeting Snake at the clubhouse.
There was something about the way his gray eyes raked over me. He looked at me with so much more in his gaze thanappreciation. It was something real, but I don’t know if I’m ready to examine what it is. Or what it could be.
When I pop my head out of the backroom to peer into the main part of the bakery, Lara is filling a tray of lemon bars and humming along with the music. If you think we’re listening to classical or elevator music in a bakery which looks like a pink flower fever dream—which is amazing—you’d be wrong.
You never know what will be playing.
I think my favorite is when the shuffle brings us some genuine feminine indie rage music. Lara will sing along at the top of her lungs without giving a single fuck about who is in the bakery. It’s freeing in a way I’m not sure I’m ready for.
Since she’s occupied, I duck back into the kitchen and start cleaning up since the last tray of cookies is in the oven. I’ll make some dough for tomorrow, but resetting the kitchen is a must.
After I pull the cookies out of the oven and get them on the cooling rack, everything is organized and ready to fill the cases out front if Lara needs them. It allows me to breathe a little easier.
The systems of the bakery have helped me to find some control in my life. For so long with Sylvester, it felt like I had no control. I hate how he took that away from me. He took so much away from me.
I poke my head back into the main room of the bakery and ask Lara, “Do you need anything from back here?”
“No, we’re good.” She looks around before waving me over.
I already know where this is going. She’s been curious about my visit to the clubhouse. Which is kind of strange because she doesn’t seem to particularly like the men of the SOMC. It’s notlike she avoids them, but she rolls her eyes whenever they ride down the street.
When I’m close enough, she leans toward me and lowers her voice, “Are you sure they were nice? I mean, none of them like belched or farted in front of you?”