Chapter Nine #2
“Oh, he’s awake!”
“Is this Eli?”
“He looks so sweet!”
“CAN I SHOW HIM MY PICTURE?”
I blink.
Skip groans under his breath. “Welcome committee.”
Knuckles smirks. “Told you.”
The toddler stares up at me, drools, and immediately raises his arms like he expects me to pick him up.
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
Skip just chuckles and keeps an arm around me so I don’t get swept away in the chaos.
“Relax, pretty boy,” he says. “You’re about to be adopted.”
And honestly?
It kind of feels like it.
***
“But my brother and his friends rescued me. It took a long time, but I’m finally moving forward in my life.”
My eyes are wide as I absorb everything I’ve just heard.
“So…” I clear my throat and nod toward the curvy woman on my right. “You have an asshole of an ex-husband?”
“Had,” Riley corrects with a smile. “And yes.”
She told me earlier that Spike rescued her right after she had her baby… the same toddler currently sitting on Skip’s lap at the table.
“And you,” I say to Sunny, the always-smiling woman on my left. “You and Bones?”
“He’s not as broody when we’re alone,” she smirks. “He actually smiles now.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I grin. “And you took care of your brother all on your own?”
Lila shakes her head. “I had help. Nurses and physical therapists came as often as insurance allowed. But until Max swooped in, I was running on fumes.”
I nod, understanding that more than she could ever know.
“Is your brother here?” I ask.
“He’s with Foster,” she beams. “They’ve got a standing chess match. You’ll meet him soon.”
Then my gaze shifts to the stunning woman sitting across the table.
Abby.
I hesitate. I don’t want to repeat what she told me. What if it triggers her? She said she was in a place where she could move forward, so I take a breath and try to word things carefully.
“I’m sorry about your friends,” I say. “I can’t imagine the fear you went through.”
“Thank you,” she says, tears gathering in her eyes.
Shoot. Triggered her anyway.
“I’m okay,” she assures me quickly. “I’m just… very emotional these days.”
“It’s because she’s in love with Tank…the ass…and he refuses to admit his feelings,” Riley says. “He’s pushing her away. That kind of hurt makes anyone emotional.”
“He is an ass, isn’t he?” Abby laughs tearfully. “I’m so tired of being hurt by him. I want to get over this stupid crush and move on. And as insane as it sounds, being held captive by Los Fantasmas wasn’t nearly as painful as what I feel every time he shuts me down.”
Skip makes a noise, but everyone ignores him.
“Men are dicks,” I say. “And as a man myself, I feel extremely qualified to confirm that opinion. Sounds to me like Tank is too caught up in his own feelings to accept yours.”
“He keeps saying he’s scared of triggering me,” Abby mutters, rolling her eyes. “Or that because I’m Spike’s sister and a club princess, I should be kept away from men ‘like him.’”
“Oh, or my favorite,” Sunny adds, annoyed now. “He doesn’t do relationships, yet runs off any man who shows interest in Abby. Infuriating.”
“One day,” Skip says, looking right at Abby, “he’s going to realize what an idiot he’s being. He loves you, Abby.”
“Maybe,” she whispers, dropping her gaze.
“I love him so much. He makes me feel safe even when he’s mad at me or ignoring me.
But it’s not my body that needs protecting this time.
It’s my heart. And he’s the only one who can break it.
What happens when the person who makes me feel safe becomes the one I need protecting from? Because my heart can’t take much more.”
I like Tank. He’s quiet, helpful, and strong.
But right now? I want to throw something at his stupid head.
“Want me to be your beard?” I tease, trying to lighten her mood. “We may have to practice our acting, since you’re a woman and I very much prefer the male anatomy. But I can pretend. Who needs a Tank when you’ve got an Eli?”
“I think fucking not,” Skip growls.
Abby laughs, while Sunny tilts her head. “What does he mean by a beard?”
“A beard,” Riley explains, “is when a gay man pretends to date a woman, often a lesbian, so people think they’re a straight couple. A cover.”
Sunny’s eyes widen before she cracks up.
“Oh, Eli,” Abby says, wiping tears. “I’m so glad you’re part of our family now. And yes, you can be my beard. We’ll walk hand-in-hand into the meeting in an hour and sit beside Tank.”
“For extra effect, I’ll even let you sit on my lap,” I grin.
“Abby,” Skip growls. “I love you, sister. But back the fuck off. Eli is not…nor will he ever be…your fucking beard.”
“Well, why not?” she asks, more amused than offended.
“Because this fucking boy belongs to me.”
…
…
Say what now?
“We definitely made the wrong biker jealous,” Riley says calmly while my brain melts into a useless puddle on the floor.
“Uncle Skip,” Bree asks from her seat next to him, “am I a club princess, too?”
Skip’s glare instantly melts into a smile as he looks down at her.
“Yes, honey. You are.”
“Does that mean I can marry a biker one day?”
“Do not let your daddy hear you say that,” Skip says seriously. Then smirks. “Actually… that’s a very good question to ask him. But listen…this is important.”
Bree leans in, eyes wide.
“Make sure I’m in the room when you ask. I need to record his answer in case he says something wise the rest of us need to hear.”
“Smart,” she nods.
Skip looks up with a mischievous glint.
“Why must you always stir the pot?” Riley laughs.
“Because it’s fun,” he shrugs.
“But you won’t let me and Eli stir it too?” Abby whines playfully.
“Eli’s mine,” Skip says again, scowl fully restored.
If he’s not careful, his face is going to freeze like that.
Suddenly, a wave of dizziness smacks me sideways, and I nearly fall out of my chair.
“All right,” Skip says immediately. “Everyone out. Eli needs to rest before the meeting, or he’s going to go horizontal again.”
“I’m fine…” I start, but my eyes feel heavy, my body heavier.
I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out…but the exhaustion is creeping up fast.
Skip is right. If I don’t lie down, my body is going to make the choice for me.
Again
Skip doesn’t give me time to protest. One second, I’m at the table trying to keep the room from spinning, the next he scoops me up like I weigh nothing at all.
“I can walk,” I mutter, even though my body is doing its best impression of overcooked spaghetti.
“You can’t,” Skip corrects, tightening his grip. “And I’m not letting you pass out in front of four women and two kids. They’ll skin me alive.”
Before he can take two steps toward the hall, the “welcome committee” descends on us.
“Hold on. He needs water!” Abby says, grabbing a bottle off the counter.
“He needs electrolytes,” Sunny insists.
“He needs a blanket,” Lila adds, already draping one over my shoulders while I’m still in Skip’s arms.
Bree tugs at my foot. “Mr. Eli, do you need soup? My mommy makes good soup.”
Skip glares at all of them like they’ve personally offended him.
“Ladies,” he warns, “my man needs rest. Not a grocery list.”
Abby gasps dramatically. “YOUR man? I’m pretty sure we’ve agreed that he’s mine.”
Skip’s glare turns volcanic. “Out.”
Sunny presses a kiss to my cheek. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”
“Text us the minute he wakes up,” Lila demands.
“Or we’ll storm the house,” Abby adds.
They spill out the door in a flurry of laughter and chaos, leaving the kitchen looking like a tornado of estrogen passed through.
Skip exhales like he’s survived something traumatic.
Then looks down at me.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, all that gruffness melting. “I know they can be a lot.”
I nod, but my eyelids are heavy. The kind of heavy that makes the whole world tilt.
Without another word, he carries me back into the bedroom.
He sets me down gently and fixes the blanket around me, tucking the edges like I’m something fragile.
Which, I guess, I am.
He smooths my hair back from my forehead, focused, careful.
It’s… not nothing.
“Skip?” I whisper.
His thumb pauses against my cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“What did you mean… when you said I belonged to you?”
Skip stills. Only for a heartbeat. But I feel it.
Then he leans down on one knee beside the bed, close enough that his breath ghosts over my lips.
“I meant exactly what I said,” he murmurs. “You belong to me, Eli.”
My heart jumps into my throat.
“I’m not saying that to rush you,” he adds softly. “I’m not saying it to scare you. But I’m done pretending I don’t feel what I feel.”
My chest tightens. Warm. Overwhelmed. Confused. Hopeful.
He reads every emotion on my face like a book.
“If it’s too much,” he whispers, brushing my cheek with his thumb, “I’ll slow down.”
He leans forward just enough for his forehead to rest against mine.
“But don’t doubt…not for a single damn second…that you and I? We’re going to be something.”
My breath trembles. He’s said those words to me before.
Skip presses a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead, then pulls the blanket up once more.
“Sleep now, pretty boy,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right here.”
And somehow…despite my emotional battle raging between my head and my heart…I fall asleep in seconds flat.