Collect the Pieces (Lost Kings MC #25)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Margot

After dinner, a group of guys head out into the woods to start the bonfire. Others stick around to help clean up the dining room. Trinity and a few other women pack up food and drinks to go. Parents gather up their kids and all the supplies that go with them.

I curl my hand around Jigsaw’s arm. “Do you mind if we run upstairs for a minute? I want to drop off my purse and maybe grab a sweatshirt.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He stops to say a few words to Rooster and then we leave the dining room.

“Shelby gave me a short tour.” I draw a line with my hand. “Well, of this hallway.”

“You all right?” he asks. “Dinner was okay?”

“It was so good.” I rub my stomach.

“No, I mean everything else.”

“Oh, yeah.” I lower my voice as we climb the stairs. “I just didn’t want to…you know, insult anyone accidentally.”

“Rav had it coming.” He turns right at the top of the stairs with the familiarity of someone who’s spent a lot of time here.

“Do you stay here a lot?” I ask.

He stops in front of one of the doors. “Not a lot . More often, lately. I don’t always get a room near the presidential suite, though.” He tilts his head toward the door at the end of the hall and winks at me.

“Is that my doing?” That seems to be what he’s implying.

“Maybe. The rooms at this end always belonged to officers or were saved for important out-of-town guests. The ones at the other end share a communal bathroom.”

“Ohhh.”

“But now that most of the officers have their own houses on the property, they usually assign these to downstate officers or couples.”

“That’s sweet.” On second thought, though, “A lot of organizing and planning has to go into assigning all those rooms every time there’s a party up here.”

“Trinity and Hope take care of most of it, I think.” He shrugs as if he’s never given it much thought. “At our place, Lilly oversees room assignments now.”

“Do all of the wives have a role in the club that sort of matches their husband’s?”

He frowns and tilts his head. Oh, boy. If being with the road captain means I’m supposed to handle anything trip-related, the club’s in for a rude awakening. I’ve always taken my car to a mechanic. I don’t ride and I’m scared to even sit on a motorcycle. Considering he’s the one who maintains the vehicles, plans, and leads the club’s trips, I’d be absolutely useless.

“Interesting question,” Jigsaw finally answers. “From what I understand, Trinity already ran the house before she and Wrath got married. But with him being the enforcer, it makes sense she does that stuff. And I think she just really likes planning and organizing things.”

“That’s what I’m good at.”

He gives me a soft smile. “I’m happy you’re thinking about stuff like that but tonight is just about you having fun and getting to know everyone.”

Why do I always have to overthink things?

He punches the code Trinity gave him earlier into the silver keypad. A green light flashes. Jigsaw turns the knob and opens the door.

“Wow, I’ve seen hotels that aren’t as nice as this.” A large king-sized bed takes up one whole corner of the room. Our bags are on a chair in another corner. But it’s a silver basket on the nightstand next to the bed that grabs my attention.

“What’s that?” I ask.

Jigsaw glances at it and frowns. “Not sure. I didn’t get a chance to look when I came up earlier.”

I move closer to the nightstand. It’s not actually a basket, more like a miniature steel tub. A sheet of white paper sticks up in the center. I pluck it out.

Welcome. I glance at Jigsaw. “I guess it’s a gift basket?”

His eyes narrow with suspicion. “I’m afraid to ask what’s in it.”

I peer closer, picking up a hot-pink silicone bottle with a white cap. A plastic safety seal indicates it’s new. Gentle Warming Lubricant.

Warmth spreads over my face. Look at that—it’s already doing its job!

“Um, these are some interesting amenities.” I run my fingers over the other items, heat building in my cheeks with each one I discover—buzzing cock ring, a package of condoms, an orange candle in a glass jar with a label that reads Orgasmic Manifestation , a twelve-sided die with a different sexual position engraved on each side.

“Uh, yup. Definitely new.” Jigsaw steps up next to me and stares at the basket. “Or at least I’ve never had one of those left for me when I’ve stayed over before.”

Chocolate hearts and a few more practical items like shampoo, soap, lotion, and lip balm round out the rest of the gifts. And finally, a small, white, rolled-up towel that was keeping everything tightly packed into the basket. I open it and blink at what’s embroidered at the bottom in black.

Cum Rag.

“Well, that stole all the romance right out of this.” I toss the cloth on the nightstand.

Jigsaw chuckles. “Now I feel like Stash helped put these together. I can’t picture Trinity ordering these or handing them out.” His lips quirk into a sexy smile. “Although, let’s be honest, it might come in handy.” He picks up the washcloth and drags it over my chest.

If I thought I was hot before, I’m on fire now.

I turn and crisscross my arms behind his neck, dragging him closer while standing on my tiptoes. He drops the cloth and wraps his arms around me.

“I warned you we could be crude at times,” he says.

Before I can answer, he feathers a soft kiss against my lips.

I sigh and drag my fingers through his hair. He lets out a humming noise of approval. Our mouths meet again, soft and exploratory at first, as if he understands I’m still uncertain in this new environment. After a few gentle, reassuring brushes of his mouth against mine, our kisses intensify. He slides his hands to my behind, pressing me against him.

Breaking our kiss, he touches his forehead to mine.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” he rasps.

“I’m happy too.” Uncertainty still tugs at me. “I did okay at dinner, right? I wasn’t too…much?”

He kisses my forehead and releases me. “You were perfect.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

Outside, people shout and whoop. Jigsaw moves toward the window and parts the curtains. “Looks like they have the fire going.”

“Do you mind if I unpack my bag?” My hands nervously twist together. “I think I’ll feel more…settled if I know where my stuff is.” I wince at how weird that sounds. Easy breezy isn’t my style.

“Yeah. Go ahead.” He drops onto the edge of the bed and leans back on his hands, his gaze completely focused on me. “I’ll enjoy the view.”

“I know it’s only a day and a half but…”

“Margot, it’s fine. Do whatever makes you comfortable.”

We’ve only ever spent time together in my space, where I know where everything is. He has no idea how particular I can be. But I guess if it’s a deal-breaker for him, he should find out now.

I slide one closet door open, and stare at the few neatly hung flannel shirts. “You’re sure this isn’t someone’s room?”

He crosses the room and peers over my shoulder. “I think Trinity just likes to make sure there are some extra clothes around in case anyone needs something.” He quickly flips through the shirts, which range in sizes from XL to 3XLT.

“That’s really thoughtful.” I push the shirts aside and grab a hanger. I didn’t bring much, so it doesn’t take long to hang my jeans, tops, and the one dress I brought. I move to the dresser and open the first drawer—again finding a few items of clothing already stored inside. Unopened packages of plain, utilitarian cotton underwear for women and boxers for men, socks, and a few basic black T-shirts and tank tops.

“Shelby said if I needed clothes to attend yoga class with them tomorrow, they could probably find something for me. I guess she wasn’t kidding.” I close the top drawer and open the second. This one is empty. I drop my undergarments and socks inside.

“You should. The girls usually do yoga while we’re in church.”

“I might.” I dig deep into my backpack again, my hand brushing against the velvet pouch, and finally find my pajamas. I fold them neatly and leave them on one of the pillows on the bed.

Jigsaw turns his head, watching me. His mouth curves in amusement. “I feel like a slob now. I was going to pull things out of my bag as needed.”

I flinch and open my mouth to apologize but he tugs on my hand, pulling me closer. “I’m not criticizing. I think it’s cute.” He shakes his head. “I mean, I want you to be comfortable here. Do whatever will make you feel at home.”

“Thanks. One last thing.” I return to my bag and pull out a case with my toothbrush and other toiletries. “If I’d known there would be amenities, I wouldn’t have bothered to pack this,” I tease, holding up the case.

I cross the room, nudge the bathroom door open, and flip the light on. The white tile gleams. Clean towels are folded over a bar by the shower and a smaller holder by the sink. A skinny white cabinet with glass doors holds more towels and what looks like toiletries, tissues, toilet paper, and anything else a guest might need.

I set my case on the edge of the sink, turn off the light and return to Jigsaw. “It’s well-stocked in there too.”

“I feel like you’re going to be really disappointed when we visit Downstate.” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. “I keep the bare minimum of everything in my room.”

“Well, if you’re the only one using it, that makes sense.” I shrug. “You already know what you need.”

The pounding of boots over hardwood floors and voices from the hallway intrude into our room.

“It’s not always quiet here.” Jigsaw glances at the door.

As if to prove his words, someone bangs on our door. “Let’s go, Jiggy!” someone shouts. “Fornicate later. Bonfire now!”

Laughing echoes in the hallway, then the sounds of footsteps running away.

Jigsaw rolls his eyes. “That had to be Stash. Surprised he even knows how to find his way upstairs.”

“Why?”

“He usually lives in the basement.” He holds up his hands. “Don’t ask me why. He and Sparky have had their living quarters down there for as long as I’ve been in New York.”

“Well, if he came all the way up here, then they must really want you at the bonfire.” I return to the closet and drape my flannel over a hanger, my heart hammering a bit faster now that I know people are waiting for us outside. I know exactly what I want to wear. My hand brushes against my thick, black hooded sweatshirt and I tug it free. In the center, a cartoon of two burning matches lean into each other over a matchbox, with “we’re a perfect match” scrawled in whimsical font above the image.

I smile at the cheesy, romantic pun, hoping Jigsaw won’t find it too silly and slip it over my head.

I turn to face him, and his gaze immediately drops to my chest. A slow grin spreads over his face as he reads the front. He stands and closes the distance between us. “That is so fucking perfect. Did you plan that for tonight?”

I tug on the bottom of the shirt, pulling it away from my body to eye the image again. “Of course.” My nose wrinkles as I lift my gaze to his face again. “Too cheesy to wear to a bonfire ? Am I going to embarrass you?”

A flicker of something—disappointment, maybe—crosses his face. “No. Fuck no. It’s adorable.” He wraps me up in his arms and lifts me to kissing level. “It’s perfect. You know how much I like your occasion-specific puns.”

My lips wobble with the laughter I’m holding back. Not all my puns. He didn’t enjoy my fuckboi repellent pin all that much.

He catches the look on my face and shakes with laughter. “Yes, even your little fuckboy pin was adorable. I didn’t love that it was directed at me, but it still made me laugh.”

I press my palms against his cheeks, holding him still so I can press my lips to his. “I love…I love that you get me.”

His throat bobs with a hard swallow, and instead of answering, he sets me gently back on my feet.

That was close. All the feelings in my chest almost came shooting out of my mouth.

“We should get down there before all the s’mores are gone,” he says, his voice rougher than before.

“I don’t want to miss those,” I agree.

He curls his hand around mine, and I follow him to the door. He opens it part way, then stops. The weight of his stare lands on me. Like maybe he knew exactly what I almost said, and he wasn’t ready to hear it.

Or worse, it’s not something he wants to say back.