Chapter Four #2
“You’ve met him twice, and this is your reaction?” Bones asks, one brow raised.
I look up at my stoic friend and grin. “What? You think it’s true love, brother?” I chuckle. “Jealous that I didn’t choose you over this pretty boy?”
“Man,” Eli groans from beside me.
“My bad, sweetheart,” I laugh, shifting closer. “Let me rephrase…Jealous I didn’t pick your broody ass over this pretty man?”
Bones snorts and kneels beside Eli. “You’re nuts,” he tells me, checking Eli’s pulse.
“Sunny’s made you soft,” I glare, pushing his hand away and taking over. Bones just smirks before standing.
I focus on Eli’s wrist, feeling the thrum under my fingers, and can’t help the grin that creeps in. “Why’s your pulse racing, sweetheart?” I tease. “I know I’m sexy as sin, but if you keep this up, we’re never gonna have a conversation that doesn’t start with you falling into my arms.”
Eli blinks at me. “Why are you bleeding?”
“Because I let that fucker get a swing in,” I admit. “Needed it to calm down.”
“What’s going on?” he asks, pushing himself upright…and then freezes. “Holy biker hotness.”
I glance over my shoulder. The whole crew’s standing there. Spike, Tank, Max, Bones, Maverick, Crusher…all watching with matching smirks. Knuckles is nowhere in sight.
“Yeah,” I say, laughing. “They’re all hot as hell, and they know it. I’d be a puddle of goo if bikers did it for me. Fucker’s are lucky I like men who can form full sentences.”
“Or women,” Crusher adds quickly, grinning.
“Nah,” I chuckle. “I like my women a bit ditsy.”
Eli blinks, looking around. “Wait…how did I get in the office? I went down out there, didn’t I?”
“I carried you in here,” I admit, squaring my shoulders.
His eyes widen. “You lifted me? I weigh well over two hundred pounds.”
“And I,” I say with a grin, “am a very strong and virile male. You were but a babe in my arms.”
Crusher snorts. Bones rolls his eyes.
“Anyway,” Spike cuts in, stepping up beside me. “I’m Spike. Glad you’re not hurt, Eli. And I’m sorry for the way Knuckles treated you. It was uncalled for, and it won’t happen again. You have my word.”
Eli swallows hard, glancing between Spike and me. “Uh… thanks. Really. I appreciate it. And, uh… sorry for…” He gestures vaguely toward the floor. “You know. Passing out like a Victorian lady in church.”
That earns a low chuckle from Tank and a grin from Maverick.
Spike shakes his head. “You don’t owe anyone an apology, son. We will need to discuss your health issues, but that can wait until later.”
Eli nods slowly, still looking a little embarrassed. “I’ll try not to faceplant again.”
“Don’t make any promises,” I tease. “But if you do, at least wait until I’m in the room. Keeps the tradition alive.”
Eli groans, but a tiny smile tugs at his lips. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”
“Not a chance,” I say, smirking.
Spike clears his throat, cutting through the laughter.
“All right, enough flirting. We’ve got a garage to get in shape before the end of the week.
Max, Tank, start sorting what’s worth keeping.
Crusher, see what we can do about security.
Skip, and Foster, I want you two working with Eli on the logistics side of the business. ”
“I don’t really know much about this place,” Eli admits softly. “I just answered phone calls and inputted any orders and payments.”
“Start there,’ Spike says.
“What about me, boss?” Maverick smirks. “What do you want me to do?”
“Like you do a damn thing I say,” Spike grumbles, but I can see the laughter in his eyes. Maverick refuses to become a member of our club and refuses to abide by our bylaws, but he’s always around when he isn’t gone for weeks at a time.
That’s why we call him the Outlaw.
“Hey there, Eli,” Foster says, stepping forward with an easy grin. “I’m Foster. Want to show me how to access the system?”
Eli nods and pushes himself to his feet, still a little shaky but determined.
“He doesn’t actually need your help,” I say, grinning. “He just wants you to feel useful. Does that shit to me all the time.”
Foster smirks. “Correction…I did need your help getting into the club’s bank accounts. You saved me a solid two minutes of my life by not making me hack into them.”
Eli blinks. “Hack… into them?”
“Don’t ask,” I warn with a chuckle. “Just smile and nod. Makes life easier.”
Eli does exactly that, and for the first time since he hit the floor, there’s a little spark of amusement in his eyes.
Logging into the computer, Eli points out a few key files before stepping aside to let Foster take over.
“He really didn’t need my help, did he?” Eli asks, watching as Foster’s fingers blur across the keyboard, windows popping open faster than we can read them.
“Nope,” I grin. “Told you.”
Foster whistles low. “Well, isn’t this a mess. Looks like when good old Patrick signed the place over, he did it knowing he was knee-deep in debt. Back taxes alone are sitting at just under a hundred grand.”
Eli frowns. “Wouldn’t that still be his responsibility?”
Foster leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Technically, yeah. But the problem is, he listed the property as an asset on the sale contract. So when ownership transferred…”
“Debt followed,” I finish for him, jaw tightening.
“Exactly,” Foster says. “And unless we find a loophole, the IRS is gonna come sniffing around our new little investment real soon.”
“Which is something we can’t let happen,” Spike says from the doorway, his tone all business. He steps inside, scanning the screen before locking eyes with me. “Skip, take care of it. I want this place debt-free before we start reconstruction.”
“Already on it,” I say, leaning back against the desk. “I’ll move some funds around, make sure the debt disappears without drawing attention.”
“Good,” Spike nods. “Keep it quiet. Last thing we need is the IRS asking where the money came from.”
He turns to Foster. “Good work finding that. Keep digging. See if there’s anything else Patrick forgot to mention.”
“On it,” Foster says, already typing again.
Spike lingers just a second longer, his gaze cutting to me. “Don’t overextend the club’s accounts, Skip. Handle it smart.”
I smirk. “When don’t I?”
He gives me a look that says don’t push it, then leaves.
Eli watches him go, brow furrowed. “You guys handle this kind of stuff a lot?”
“Money?” I shrug. “More than we should. But that’s the thing about owning something legit. We’ve gotta pretend to play by the rules.”
“Pretend?” Eli frowns.
I open my mouth before I even think twice. “Yeah. When you’re trying to keep the club’s cash clean, you learn to…”
“Too much, brother,” Foster cuts in sharply without looking up from the monitor.
I clamp my mouth shut, jaw flexing. Shit. He’s right. I said too much.
For a second, the room feels smaller, quieter. Eli’s still watching me, curiosity written all over his face, and it hits me like a punch. I almost forgot he’s not one of us. Not family. Not part of the circle that knows what really happens when the books don’t balance clean.
I hate that thought more than I should. Two days. That’s all it’s been. Two damn days, and somehow this man’s already under my skin.
I force a smile to cover the slip. “Just business talk, sweetheart. Nothing exciting.”
Eli nods slowly, but I can see the question still sitting behind his eyes.
He doesn’t press, just nods and focuses on the monitor beside Foster. Still, that curiosity lingers. Quiet, patient, like it’s waiting for me to slip again.
I should walk away. Hell, I need to. Foster’s right. I slipped. There’s club business, and then there’s everything else. I know that. I live by that.
But damn if it isn’t getting harder to remember where those lines are when he’s in the room.
I catch myself watching him…the way his brow furrows when he’s thinking, the way he chews on the inside of his cheek when he’s nervous. He’s not my typical catch when it comes to men, but there’s something real about him. Grounded. Pure. And that’s dangerous.
Because I can’t tell if what I want is simple… or something else entirely.
Do I just want to fuck him because he’s cute and different and makes me laugh when I shouldn’t? Or is it deeper?
That question sits heavy in my chest, and for the first time in a long while, I don’t have an answer.
I tear my eyes away and force myself to focus on the paperwork. He’s just a man. That’s what I tell myself.
But deep down, I already know I’m lying.
The one and only Skip has officially been caught by a man who can’t even make it through a day without fainting. How the hell is he supposed to stay upright in a world like mine?
And why the fuck am I even asking that question? He’s probably not even gay.
Eli glances up at me from where he’s standing beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off him. I hold his gaze for a few long seconds, letting my smirk spread slowly and deliberately…dangerous and amused all at once.
“What?” he asks, his brows drawing together, voice wary.
“You’re totally into men,” I say, enjoying the way his breath catches.
“I…what? No!” he stammers, taking a small step back. “I’m not…I don’t…why would you even say that?”
I chuckle, low and dark. “Because, sweetheart, your face just turned the same shade as Foster’s shirt.”
“I’m just warm,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at me.
“Right,” I drawl, tilting my head. “Guess I just have that effect on people.”
Foster snorts from the desk without looking up. “You’re insufferable, man.”
“Yeah,” I say, still watching Eli with a wicked grin. “But I’m usually right.”
And judging by the way he won’t meet my eyes now, I know damn well I am.
“What’s it to you, anyway?” Eli asks, staring at the floor. “It’s not like it matters.”
“Oh, it matters,” I say, my voice dropping just enough to make him look up. “Maybe not to anyone else. But it matters to me.”
His eyes widen a little, and I can almost see the panic start to rise behind them. Like he’s trying to figure out if I’m teasing him or about to tear him apart for it. Poor cutie doesn’t even realize I’m flirting with him.
I take a slow step closer, grin still playing at my lips. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not judging you. Just stating facts. You like men. Lucky for you…” I let the words trail off, my grin widening when he swallows hard, “I’m one hell of a man.”
“With an ego to boot,” Foster mutters.
Eli blinks, clearly trying to make sense of what’s happening.
And I can feel it…the shift inside me. The thing I don’t want to name. I’ve never been the type to look at anyone and think mine. Never cared enough to want something that could last. But standing here, watching him stumble over his own uncertainty…
The universe is laughing at me. Or maybe it’s giving me a gift I didn’t ask for. Either way, I’m not about to fight it.
He’s flustered, unsure, and completely unaware that I’ve already set my sights on him.
“That appears to be the only debt this dump owes,” Foster says, standing from the chair and glancing back at us. “Brother, take a step back before you make the poor man pass out… again.”
I grin, not missing a beat. “Can you blame him? I’ve been told I have that kind of effect on people.”
Foster snorts. “Yeah, sure. That’s what we’ll call it.”
Eli groans softly and rubs the back of his neck, still avoiding my eyes. The smile fades just a little from my face as I take half a step back…not because I want to, but because Foster’s right. The sweet man’s been through enough today.
“Easy, sweetheart,” I say quietly, letting the teasing soften. “Don’t go proving him right.”
He nods, though his face is still pink.
“It’s just an after-effect of the spell,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “My head’ll be fuzzy for a few hours, maybe until I can sleep it off. I’ll be okay.”
I study him for a second. He says it so casually, like passing out is no big deal. Maybe it isn’t for him, but that sure as hell doesn’t sit right with me.
“Good,” I say lightly, keeping the teasing edge in my voice. “Because I was two seconds from demanding hazard pay if you hit the floor again.”
That earns a small, embarrassed smile from him, and I let it stay at that. No more pushing…for now.
But as he moves to stand beside Foster again, I make a mental note. Find out what’s really going on with him. Figure out what triggers it. And make damn sure he’s never put in a position where it happens if I can help it.
He says he’ll be fine. I intend to make sure he actually is.
Foster looks up at me, then down at Eli before flicking his gaze back with a silent question in his eyes.
He yours?
He doesn’t have to say it out loud. I see it written all over his face. The curiosity, the warning, the smirk he’s trying to hide.
I don’t answer. Just let the corner of my mouth tilt into a slow grin.
Fucking right he is.
“Poor bastard,” Foster chuckles, giving Eli’s shoulder a quick squeeze before walking off.
Eli blinks, looking between us. “Did you two just have a silent conversation?”
I shrug, smirk still firmly in place. “Maybe. You’ll never know, sweetheart.”
Eli groans. “You guys are weird.”
“Yeah,” I say, watching him a little too long. “But you’ll get used to us.”
“Skip! Maverick! Tank!” Spike shouts from across the garage. “I need you massive fuckers to help get this piece of shit down!”
Laughing, I glance back at Eli and throw him a wink. “Duty calls, sweetheart. Try not to miss me too much.”
And with that, I turn and head toward my president in distress.