Chapter 1 #2
She would, too, out of spite if nothing else. And then her brother, who happened to be the president of a local motorcycle club whose good side Killian was eager to stay on, would have his head on a platter. “I’m happy to answer your questions. But not tonight.”
For the first time since his arrival, she looked at him, really looked at him, and he was left as he often was with the uncomfortable feeling she saw him more clearly than he would like. “Tonight was really bad, wasn’t it? Worse than usual.”
“Yes. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough. But you did stand me up, so you owe me one, Irish.”
Because he did indeed owe her, he didn’t bother to sigh.
“A guest pass for a demo night at the club, where you can observe and question and learn until your heart’s content.
I’ll even see if Tara can make time to give you some more hands-on experience, if you find something you’re interested in.
” He let his lips curl up. “She has a deft hand with ropes.”
A deeper curiosity, the kind borne of personal rather than educational interest, lit Naomi’s eyes. “Tara?”
“Our head bartender. Tiny little thing, but don’t let that fool you. I’ve seen her put men three times your size on their knees.”
“She sounds fascinating. It’s a deal.”
“Hey! Master C!”
Biting back a groan, he turned as Titania Anderson, wife of one of the co-owners of Club BDE and a constant pain in Killian’s ass, sidled up to him, a mischievous grin stretched across her face. “Tania. What a… pleasant surprise.”
Titania snorted out a laugh. “Pleasant. Right.” She tilted her head to the side, giving him and then Naomi an appraising look. “Missed you at the wedding. And the reception. But now… here you are.”
“Here I am, indeed.” And that was all the explanation he was willing to give a woman who had hitched herself to not just one, but two ex-cops who’d love nothing more than to see him rot behind bars.
“Tania, we’re supposed to be celebrating.” Emily Elliott, yet another of Braden’s sisters-in-law, offered up her shy smile as she laid a hand on Titania’s arm. “Can we have a truce, just for one evening?”
Titania pouted, but even she wasn’t immune to Emily’s calm sweetness. “One night, Master C. That’s all you get. Come on, we’re over here in the corner.”
At Emily’s urging, Titania turned, and Emily offered him a smile and a roll of her eyes as she ushered her sister-in-law back to their table.
“Master C?” Naomi asked, her lips twitching with obvious amusement.
“C for Cinnamon Roll. Honor a promise to a friend and suddenly everyone thinks I’m a soft touch,” he muttered. Not that he truly minded, as he did indeed have a soft spot for Braden’s family even if they didn’t all return the feeling, but a man had his reputation to consider.
“Oh, I think I like her.”
“Of course you do. Brats of a feather tend to flock together.”
Despite his dry tone—or perhaps because of it—Naomi tossed her head back and laughed, loud and bright. But not the same laughter he’d heard in the pit, which was both a relief and a disappointment.
A relief, because that laugh was still an echo in his mind, one he’d been trying to ignore since he’d chosen the bar over the pit. Discovering Dr. Winters was the owner of that laugh would have resulted in far too many complications for his comfort.
And yet it was a disappointment for much the same reason.
It had been far too long since he’d had a woman get to him the way the owner of that laugh clearly had without him even laying eyes on her and he was anxious to know who she was, even if it did turn out to be someone completely off-limits to him.
Complicated, was what it was. And complicated was the last damn thing he needed just then.
Putting the haunting laughter out of his mind, he guided Naomi over to a corner booth where Emily and Titania were cozied up with their husbands.
“Gentlemen,” Killian said with a nod for all three men.
“This is Dr. Naomi Winters, my date for the wedding. Naomi, the two with the matching gray in their beards are Damian and Desmond, Braden’s brothers.
Emily belongs to the slightly less grumpy looking one, Damian.
Titania belongs to Desmond and Sebastian. ”
“And you said they weren’t property,” Naomi muttered, making his palm positively itched to spank some manners into her.
“Behave yourself, Dr. Winters,” he said instead.
Lifting her hand to her brow, she gave him a snappy salute. “Yes, Sir.”
Cheeky brat. It really was a shame she wasn’t interested in him that way. They could have had some fun together.
“I like her,” Titania declared, practically beaming at them. “About time you found someone to keep you in line, Master C.”
“Indeed,” he drawled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her.
From their seats on the other side of the table, Desmond and Bastian eyed him with the same wariness they’d guarded him with for as long as he’d been a member of the club. “O’Rourke.” Desmond’s greeting was stilted, stiff as always.
It gave him an itch between his shoulder blades, one he never could quite scratch.
As much as he enjoyed poking them, he hated the constant reminder that even here, he would always be on the outside.
They’d take his monthly fee, let him spend his money on food and drink, but they’d never actually welcome him into the fold.
Annoyed, with himself and with them, he turned to Naomi and offered up another smile of apology. “It seems I’m more tired than I realized. We should catch up later, have a drink.”
“Oh.” Disappointment flickered in her eyes. “I was hoping we could go down to the pit.”
“Another night.”
“You can come with us.” Emily turned her head, looking up at her husband. “Can’t she, Daddy? We were planning to go down in a bit anyway.”
Damian hesitated, his gaze shifting to Killian. “If it’s all right with Master O.”
Beside him, Naomi snorted, then lost the battle and doubled over with laughter. “Master O? What, are you the Master of Orgasms or something?”
“O, for O’Rourke.” He let a small smile curve his lips. “But the other interpretation isn’t far off. And Naomi isn’t… We aren’t together, that way.”
“We definitely are not.” One corner of Naomi’s mouth kicked up in a smirk. “Cordelia is much more my type, though she seems to have her hands full.”
“In that case, you’re welcome to come and observe,” Damian said with a crooked smile of his own. “And if you ask nicely, Cordelia might even give you a personal demonstration.”
“Really.” Despite her earlier judgments, Naomi perked up at that bit of news. “I am here to learn. Lead the way!”
“I really, really like her.” Slipping out of the booth, Titania hooked her arm with Naomi’s and tugged her along toward the stairs.
Another little prickle of guilt in his stomach as he watched her go, but he tried to ignore it. He really wasn’t in the right headspace to play host, and Naomi was perfectly safe with the Elliotts. They might be thorns in his side, but they’d take care of her.
Still…
Reaching out, he snagged Desmond’s arm as he passed. “Naomi may not be mine, but she is still very much under my protection.”
Translation: I will hunt you down and rip you apart piece by piece if anything happens to her.
Clearly, he didn’t need to translate, judging by the twist of Desmond’s lips and the single, sharp nod he gave in response. “Noted.”
“Thank you.”
He let go of Desmond’s arm, nodded to Bastian as the other man placed a proprietary hand at the small of his husband’s back, and watched them all disappear down the stairs.
As he turned to leave himself, he caught sight of the gleaming wood of the bar, and the bottles lined up neatly behind it.
A drink, first. And then he’d be on his way.