Chapter Sixteen #2
“You got it.” Frisco rushed around the bar, grabbed the bottle, and then turned away to get glasses.
“You’re fucking unbelievable.”
Gator merely grinned, the psycho.
“So what’d I miss while I was out collecting loan payments?
” All in all, it had been an easy afternoon.
Everyone he visited paid their loans on time, so no one needed their asses kicked.
Normally, Saint would consider that a good day, but he had a restless energy buzzing under his skin that would have gotten worked out if he’d gotten the opportunity to beat the shit out of someone.
“Not much. Prez filled everyone in and warned Beth to be extra vigilant. He mentioned he was thinking of having someone tail her for a bit.” He snorted. “She did not like that, but you know, Prez. He’s feral when it comes to his girls.”
Saint grunted. Of course, she didn’t want a babysitter, but fuck that. He was with Copper on this one. Whatever it took to keep her safe. If it were his choice, he’d keep her hidden away until they were sure this jackass posed no threat. Hidden away in his bed, preferably.
“Copper drive her home?”
“Nope.” Gator shook his head with a smirk as Frisco returned with the whiskeys.
“Thanks, man,” Saint said.
The prospect grinned so wide as he handed Gator his drink. Saint couldn’t keep his laugh at bay. Poor guy wanted in this club so bad he was willing to kiss Gator’s crazy ass.
“Get lost,” Gator said, shooing the prospect with a hand wave.
“Copper didn’t take Beth home?”
Gator shook his head as he tossed back his entire drink in two swallows.
“Nah,” he said when he’d finished. “Beth told him she wanted to crash here for a night or two. Said she needed a little break from being at their house.” Gator grabbed the bottle Frisco abandoned and refilled his glass.
“Copper nearly blew his top at first, but Shell talked him down as she always does. She reminded him that Beth was used to being on her own and needed some space. Shell told him this way Beth could have fun, have a few drinks, and not worry about driving home.”
“Huh.” So she was somewhere in the clubhouse, planning to spend the night.
Interesting.
His cock sure liked the new knowledge.
“Think she claimed the last room on the left.”
Saint raised an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me because…”
Gator shrugged. “Because you get hard every time she’s around. So does she. Figured you might want to bang it out already.”
Saint nearly choked on his whiskey. “Uh, no, she doesn’t. Pretty sure she doesn’t have a dick, Gator.”
“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Gator asked, waggling his light eyebrows.
Saint reached across the bar and shoved his idiot friend back with a hand on his face. The move sent Gator into a fit of wild laughter.
“All right. We need drinks, and we need them now,” Lindsey announced as she walked from the back hallway of the clubhouse arm in arm with Beth, whose gaze shuttered when she noticed Saint at the bar.
What the hell was that about?
Twenty minutes later, Saint found himself seated in an Adirondack chair out behind the clubhouse with Lindsey, Gator, and Beth.
It was too early, too bright, and too hot to start a fire, so they sat around the remnants of last night’s bonfire.
Lindsey angled her chair so she could prop her bare feet in Gator’s lap while her sandals lay on the ground beneath her chair.
Beth sat next to Saint in her own chair across from the other two, holding the bottle of whiskey Gator had snagged before they came outside.
She was quieter than usual and stiff. Maybe tense was a better word.
“You okay?” Saint leaned over to ask in a low voice.
“Sure.” She took a swallow directly from the bottle as his eyebrow arched.
“Gimme, Bethy,” Lindsey ordered. She leaned forward, motioning for the bottle, which Beth handed over. “So I think I owe you an apology. Saint too.”
He frowned as he looked between Beth’s troubled expression and Lindsey’s sheepish one. “What do you mean?” What the hell? Had she done something to Beth?
“Easy there, Rambo,” Gator muttered with a chuckle. “Your face is getting all murder-looking.”
Saint flipped Gator off.
Lindsey took a swig from the bottle before passing it off to Gator. “I invited Beth to lunch today with Melody and me because I thought she might have some insight into, well, you.”
He motioned for the bottle from Gator. “What are you talking about?” The whiskey had a pleasant burn as it traveled down his throat.
“I knew Mel was into you, and she suggested Beth might have some tips on how to snag you since you guys have spent time together recently. I didn’t realize Mel was so… aggressive in her interest in you, and that you didn’t return it.”
“How do you know he doesn’t want Mel?” Gator lifted the bottle to his smirking lips. “He disappeared for a while after taking her home. Maybe they spent the afternoon rattling her headboard.”
“The fuck?” Saint straightened. He could feel waves of tension and discomfort coming off Beth, who had yet to say a word since they sat outside.
“Stop being a shit-stirrer,” Lindsey said, whacking Gator’s arm. Of course, all that did was make him snort out a laugh.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Don’t worry, Beth, he was doing shit for Zach all afternoon.”
Beth blinked, but Saint swore she relaxed a fraction of a percent. “What? Why would I care? Saint can… rattle whatever headboard he wants. Not my business.”
Gator snorted, and Lindsey tilted her head. “Sure, sweetie,” she said in a placating tone. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Wha—”
“We’re losing the plot here, people. Bottom line… I’m sorry for the ambush. I did not think Mel would go that hard. She seems to have a fixation on becoming an ol’ lady.” She ripped the bottle out of Gator’s hands and tilted her head back for a long gulp of whiskey.
“Watching you drink that gets me so fucking hard,” Gator said, and Saint had no doubt he meant it.
Lindsey choked. She lowered the bottle, coughing, and her eyes watering. “Jesus, Gator,” she said when she regained control of her airway. “That’s supposed to be some kind of compliment? Everything gets you hard.”
He shrugged completely unashamed. “True, but watching you swallow gets me extra fucking hard.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “You’re a pig.”
As the two of them bantered back and forth, Saint turned to Beth to find her watching him with a host of questions swirling in her green eyes. At some point, she’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail that gave him a view of her entire face.
“So, Zach kept you busy this afternoon?”
“He did. Had a whole bunch of bullshit for me to take care of.”
“Mel must have been disappointed you couldn’t stick around.”
He grunted. “Not sure, disappointed is the right word. More like rabid.”
“Hmm.”
“But that had nothing to do with Zach. I shut her down before he ever called me.”
“Oh… really?”
He nodded. “I’m not interested in Melody. Never was.”
She blinked. Her gaze softened, melting to hot liquid jade he could lose himself in for the rest of the night. For the rest of his life, if she’d let him.
Whoa, that was a thought.
“It’d be safer if you were,” she whispered. “Easier.”
“Maybe,” he whispered back so only Beth could hear. “But I’ve never played it safe a day in my life.”
A loud throat cleared, startling them both. Their heads whipped forward simultaneously. Sure enough, Lindsey and Gator gawked at them with twin shit-eating grins like two goons.
“Whatcha talking about?” Gator sing-songed.
Saint and Beth flipped him off at the same time, which made Lindsey burst out laughing. Gator followed, and in seconds, all four of them were laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. It seemed the whiskey had kicked in.
They stayed out there for hours, laughing, chatting, and enjoying the gorgeous summer night.
Now that they’d cleared the air about his afternoon activities, Beth relaxed and joined in their nonsensical conversations.
Saint listened more than he talked, which was typical for him, but this time it stemmed from his inability to do anything but watch Beth.
Everything she did drew him to her, from the animated way she told stories to her teasing to the secret smiles she gifted him every so often.
He wanted to take her back to her room and spend the rest of the night making her beg and scream his name.
He wanted to consume her, to absorb her into himself so he could ensure her safety and happiness always.
Eventually, when the sun had set and the whiskey had long run out, the back door opened, and Zach popped his head out. “Lindsey, you out there?”
“Yep. What’s up?”
“I’m heading out. You need a ride home?”
“Uh, yeah, please. I drank more than I planned.”
Zach laughed. “Sounds good. Meet you out front.”
“Well, guess that’s it for me, folks.” Lindsey stood, wobbled a bit, then laughed. “Shit. I’m drunk.”
Snorting, Gator stood as well. “I’ll help you out front.” He swung an arm around Lindsey’s shoulders, making them both stumble.
Beth laughed. “Pretty sure you’ll only make it worse, Gator.”
Truer words had never been spoken.
“Nah, we’re all good. Right, babe?”
Lindsey leaned into him and blinked heavy-lidded eyes. “Huh?”
Saint rolled his eyes while Beth laughed.
After saying their goodbyes, Gator and Lindsey somehow made it into the clubhouse without falling flat on their faces, leaving him and Beth alone outside.
“This was fun,” she said. “I, uh, I should probably turn in.” She stood and faced him. “I’m gonna crash here tonight.”
“I heard.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced at the clubhouse before looking back at him while she wrung her hands near her waist. “Okay. Well, I’m in the last room on the left, down the main hall.
” She paused, and the air between them thickened.
“Just… so you know.” She shifted, bit her lip, and his gaze dropped before he could stop it.
Beneath her thin tank top, he could see the faint peaks of her hardened nipples pressing against the fabric.
God, she was turned on, aroused, and offering him her room number like a key.
His dick thickened in his jeans, filling so fast it bordered on painful.
“Now I know.” His voice came out rougher than intended.
She nodded once, then headed toward the clubhouse.
Saint forced his gaze to stay straight and not drift down to her round ass as she walked away. If he was going to walk into the clubhouse after hanging out with her, he needed to do it without a visible boner tenting his jeans.
The heavy door creaked open, then closed with a thud as Beth disappeared into the clubhouse.
Saint breathed out slowly, letting his head fall back against the chair. One hundred seconds. That’s how long he’d give himself before he followed her inside, found that last room on the left, and did what they’d both been dying to do since the moment she came home.
He began to count down from one hundred.