Chapter 11
Natalie
I wake up the next morning to find Bear gone.
Running my hand over his side of the bed, I find it’s cold.
For a few seconds, I lie still and listen, waiting for a sound I can recognize.
Boots on walking across the floor, him turning on the shower and whispering about club business on his cell phone.
Anything that tells me last night wasn’t a magical dream born of need and desire.
All I hear is the sound of motorcycles firing up outside. Maybe one is even his.
When I roll over to grab the burner cell phone Siege gave me from the nightstand, the delicious ache between my legs tells me last night happened.
I open my email and read the progress update from the hospital.
I read it twice. The nurse says he’s holding stable, and they might be able to get him off the ventilator.
She tells me I can come and visit this afternoon.
Setting the phone aside, I lay back against my pillow.
I’m in no hurry to get up because I think Bear left for work without me.
I feel crazy for wishing he’d woken me up before he left. He’s got a business to worry about, all on his own now that my brother can’t do his share. Of course he can’t waste time babying me and making me feel special.
I stare at the ceiling and think about last night. Being with him was amazing. He’s warm, attentive, extremely attractive. I know why they gave him the club name Bear. He reminds me of a big, snuggly teddy bear.
It’s cute how he tried to turn me down, right up until he ran out of dumbass excuses.
He’s still not over the idea that he’s too big for me.
I can tell because he put me on top and let me take him as I was able.
If I’m being honest, I’ve never worked so hard for anything in my entire life.
But it was so worth the slow burn that taking all of him entailed, because it made me feel like he was all mine.
Even though all that happened last night and I fell asleep in his arms, I realize that I don’t really know where I stand with him this morning. I remind myself that he didn’t actually promise anything. He was all jokes, jokes designed to cover his need for me.
Still staring at the ceiling, I try to decide if this is what a one-night stand feels like.
I feel a little emptiness when I think of how easy it was for him to walk out the door this morning.
I know this is the point I’m supposed to buck up and pretend I’m fine because I technically got what I wanted, which was one amazing night with the man of my dreams. That’s more than I ever hoped for to be sure.
I sit up and pull the sheet up around my naked body. I don’t want to start spiraling but I can’t help it. Maybe he didn’t really want me. Maybe he only gave in because I was standing there half naked trying to talk him into it.
I know he was tired. Rick was in the hospital.
Maybe he just wanted something to take his mind off it all.
That’s how bikers operate, right? They use club girls to blow off steam.
Maybe the whole thing was a gigantic lapse of judgment on his part, and now he regrets it.
The thought of that hurts more than I thought it would.
Then suddenly the bedroom door flies open hard enough to hit the wall. Bear strolls in like he owns the place. He has a tray balanced in one hand, a paper bag tucked under his arm, and he’s all smiles. In fact, his smile is smug and self-satisfied.
“You awake, Sleeping Beauty?” he asks, although I’m sitting up in bed and looking right at him.
“I am,” I manage, relieved beyond belief that he didn’t leave me behind.
He kicks the door behind him with one booted foot and walks towards the bed. The tray holds two plates of food, coffee, and what looks like cinnamon rolls. He sets it down carefully and takes up a seat on the bed, careful not to disturb the tray.
My chest feels tight. “I woke up and you were gone,” I tell him, trying not to sound as weak and pathetic as I feel.
He shoots me a tender look. “Don’t worry, I didn’t run out on you. I went downstairs to get you some breakfast.”
I pick up a piece of bacon and bring it to my mouth. Right before I take a bite, I tell him, “I’m starving, so that was a good call.”
He picks up the coffee and holds it out. “Drink.”
This situation feels like he genuinely wants to take care of me and wasn’t that exactly what I was longing for earlier?
I take it with my free hand and bring it to my lips, letting the warmth slide down my throat. “The prospects make a good breakfast; I’ll give them that much. Did you cook when you were a prospect?”
“Of course,” he says. “Feeding the club brothers is a core responsibility for prospects.”
I find myself relaxing and can’t seem to keep the smile off my face.
“Look, I hope you don’t mind but I looked at your phone before I went downstairs and read the update on Rick. Not knowing got the better of me.”
“Of course I don’t mind, it’s just a temporary club phone. I’ll set up an automatic forward on their updates to your phone. That way you’ll know everything in real time.”
“Rigs said Mattie’ll bring your old phone back today seeing as the cops got everything they needed from it,” Bear says.
“I hope it helped,” I say. Then I remember my brother. He’s in the hospital because of me.
“I don’t know where you’re going in that pretty head of yours, but don’t. None of this is your fault, you got that, darlin’?”
I glance up at him over my coffee cup. His hair is still damp from a shower.
He’s wearing a black shirt that clings to his muscular shoulders and his Legion cut.
His square jaw is sporting a neatly trimmed beard.
He looks like the same man he was yesterday, but somehow happier and more lighthearted.
And the best part is he can’t take his eyes off me.
“You’re staring,” I say, smothering back a smile.
A soft smile slips onto his face. “You were doing the same thing.”
“That’s because you’re looking extra nice this morning.”
He lifts his chin and smooths one hand down his beard. “I have an old lady now. I need to look good for her, so she’s not embarrassed to be seen with a big bastard like me.”
The words come out before I think, “I’m proud to be yours, no matter how well-groomed your beard is.”
He goes still. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I brought you something to mark the occasion.”
He reaches under the tray, pulls out the paper bag he carried in earlier and holds it out to me.
“What’s that?” I ask curiously.
Bear exhales slowly. “Something I should’ve offered you last night, but I was too chicken shit.”
I take the package from him and the paper crinkles softly as I open it. I pull out a black leather vest. It’s heavy and the shape is familiar even before I unfold it fully. It’s a property cut. I’ve seen the other old ladies wearing them. Mine says, ‘Property of Bear’.
My stomach flips. “Bear, are you sure you want me to wear your cut?”
He jerks his chin in a way that means yes. “Last night meant something to me. You said you wanted to be my old lady. If you still want that, you wear my cut.”
I lift it up with both hands. The leather is high quality, and the script is elegant and feminine, unlike the bold block letters on Bear’s cut. My fingers trace the edge, careful like it might burn.
“It’s really beautiful, Bear. But you know that if I wear this people will see it. They’ll know we’re together.”
“I’m counting on it.”
I look up at him. “Are you sure now is the right time?”
His jaw tightens slightly. “I know that Rick’s not gonna take this well. But after last night, there’s no more pretending that we’re not meant to be with each other. Making love to you was my point of no return.”
His words make me feel claimed in the best way.
“You were afraid of being… what did you call it?” I say, watching him closely, “a dog with a bone.”
His gaze locks on mine. “That still worries me. But now that I’ve had you, I’m not giving you up.”
Not giving me time to respond, he reaches for the fork, spears a piece of bacon, and holds it out towards my mouth like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Eat. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us. You’re going to need your strength.”
I stare at the fork. “Are you serious? You’re going to feed me?”
He doesn’t flinch. “Yes, but only on special occasions.”
I should refuse on principle, but I open my mouth and let him ease food into my mouth…not just once but over and over again. It’s ridiculous how fast the mood between us shifts. The atmosphere turns sensual.
He watches me chew, then just keeps offering me bites. After a few bites we fall into an easy rhythm.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” I say after swallowing a particularly tasty bite.
His mouth twitches into an almost smile. “Doing what, darlin’?”
“Acting like you’re not the scariest person in this building.”
He offers me another bite. “You think I’m scary?”
“To others, not me.”
“Good,” he says, and then, quieter, “If they’re scared of me and you’re wearing my cut they will stay the fuck away from you if they have any good common sense.”
I take the next bite and suddenly I feel the need to show him that I care about him too. I take a bite of egg onto his fork and bring it to his lips.
He lets me feed him right back. I sit up straighter, more engaged because it’s mutual. When all the food is gone, he reaches for the coffee again and takes a slow sip. “Wear my cut today.”
“But not to visit Rick, right?”
His eyes sharpen. “No, not yet. I’m not expecting him to wake up right away, but I think we need to ease him into the situation.”
“Smart thinking,” he says.
“I’m always smart,” I tell him. “That’s why I knew we’d be perfect together.”