Chapter Twenty-Six
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“TALIA, WOULD YOU mind slicing these strawberries for me?” Brooke asked as she thrust a large carton of whole strawberries at Talia’s chest.
“Yeah, that sounds like something even I couldn’t screw up.”
Chuckling, Brooke retrieved a large cutting board from a low cabinet. “Not much of a cook?” she asked as she slid the board across the counter to Talia.
“Definitely not. I think I’m solely responsible for my Door Dasher’s down payment on their new house.” She set the strawberries on the cutting board and then accepted the handle of a sharp knife Brooke held out.
“Liv isn’t either,” Kelsie said with a smile. “But we still find plenty of jobs for her, so no worries. There’s always some way to contribute.”
“Just slice them up. Doesn’t need to be perfect,” Brooke said. “They’re topping for the pancakes Harper is working on. These guys don’t give two shits what the fruit looks like.”
Laughing, Talia grabbed a berry. “Yeah, I can’t imagine Jinx being picky about the cut of his strawberries.”
“Exactly,” Brooke said with a smirk.
Brunch at the clubhouse was an event like no other. No store-bought pastries and cereal for these people. They made everything from scratch and had enough food to fuel an army. Nerves had hit hard when Pulse told her the club was planning on having brunch, and it was an all-hands-on-deck kind of situation when it came to preparing the meal. She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t cook. She could barely boil water.
But, like most things with this club, brunch preparation was a chill, judgment-free affair.
The best part was how no one harped on what had happened last night. After ensuring she was okay, everyone went about their tasks like a typical day. Either they were used to flying bullets or understood she needed to focus on something else for her sanity.
Probably a bit of both.
Her knees stung like a bitch and looked like raw meat, but her palms were in much better shape. Aside from some shallow scrapes that had scabbed over already, they didn’t look bad and weren’t holding her back from getting things done.
Like cutting strawberries.
They chatted as they worked, getting the meal whipped up quicker than Talia expected. Liv’s absence left a hole in their group, but she’d called hours ago to say Spec made it through surgery and had received a blood transfusion. She’d refused to leave his side despite him ‘growling at me like an angry ogre’ to go home and rest.
“So,” Harper said as she pushed herself onto the island next to where Talia was adding champagne to a large pitcher of peach juice. “Liv’s going to kill me for asking this when she isn’t here to get the deets, but I can’t wait any longer. What exactly is going on with you and Pulse?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve been dying for details,” Jo said as she strode into the kitchen. She’d been finishing some work at the shelter, though Brenna theorized Jo wanted to avoid kitchen duty. The ladies claimed she often had something important pop up during meal prep.
Talia’s face heated as all the ladies stopped what they were doing to stare at her.
“Oh, man, it must be hot,” Jo said with a chuckle. “Your face is redder than those strawberries you’re butchering.”
If she could have crawled into an empty champagne bottle, she would have.
“Jo, leave her alone. Not everyone likes to blab their personal business,” Kelsie said as she opened the oven. Immediately, the scent of apples and cinnamon filled the kitchen.
“Too bad,” Jo said with a smirk. “I want details.”
Harper rolled her eyes but was grinning and hadn’t moved from the counter. “Come on,” she pleaded, giving Talia her best puppy-dog look. “We all know you’re together. We just want to know if it’s a serious thing or more casual.”
“Yeah,” Jo added. “We’d like to keep you, so if it’s casual, we’ll do our best to convince you to make it more.”
As embarrassed as she was being put on the spot, Talia couldn’t help but chuckle. “You guys are crazy.”
“Guilty as charged, counselor.” Jo grabbed a slice of bacon from an enormous platter and bit into it with a satisfying crunch. “Ow!” she said, mouth full, as Brooke slapped her hand away.
“What the hell?”
“It’s not time to eat.”
Their little scene only diverted attention from Talia for about twenty seconds. Everyone’s eyes were back on her way too quickly. “Uh… well, it’s serious.”
Harper squealed and clapped her hands. “That makes me so happy. How serious?”
Ugh, really? Were they going to make her give details? “He told me he loved me last night and asked me to be his ol’ lady,” she mumbled.
For one second, the kitchen fell utterly silent but for the sound of the percolator brewing coffee. Then it erupted in a loud chorus of cheers and shrieks followed by a swarm of ol’ ladies piling on her in a group hug.
“Yay!” Harper squealed. “I’m so happy.” She was the closest, so she squeezed Talia while the others joined in.
The door opened, and Jinx stuck his head in. “Everything okay? Dayum, what do we have here? A little girl-on-girl action?” He straightened and folded his arms as he leaned against the doorjamb. “Don’t let me interrupt. Please proceed.”
“Get out of here, you big oaf,” Jo yelled as she hurled a biscuit at Jinx.
“Hey! Don’t waste a perfectly good biscuit. I made that,” Kelsie cried.
“It won’t go to waste.” Jinx swiped the biscuit out of the air and took a monster-size bite. “Mm… good job, Kels. Very buttery. Flakey too.”
“Get out!” they all shouted, making Jinx jump like he’d been electrocuted.
“Jesus, y’all are scary mean,” he muttered with half of a biscuit in his mouth before he fled.
“Did you say it back?” Brenna asked as the hug broke apart.
“I did.” Talia’s cheeks went hot, feeling like an inferno.
“Eeep! Liv really is going to be pissed she missed this,” Harper said with a gleeful grin. “Not gonna lie, I’m kinda excited.”
“Welcome to our wild family.” Brooke gave her another hug. “You’re perfect for each other,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” Her throat thickened.
I will not cry.
She’d embarrassed herself enough in front of these people to last a lifetime. Bursting out in tears because they liked her would be too much mortification to bear. Once she collected herself, she helped carry the food to the tables in the main clubhouse area. Pulse wandered over as she set the pitchers of peach mimosas on the table.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, drawing her into his arms.
She inhaled. The scent of his bodywash had quickly become her favorite smell. It reminded her of the delightful shower they’d taken together just a few hours ago.
“I’m good,” she said as she hugged him close. “Really good.”
“The ladies didn’t force you to cook?”
She laughed. “No. I was on strawberry slicing and drink making. And I think I nailed both tasks.”
He grinned and kissed her.
“Aw, look at the love birds.” Jinx made kissy faces at them across the room, earning him a double middle finger from Pulse.
Talia couldn’t describe how great seeing Pulse comfortable and relaxed with his brothers felt. Gone was the tension that had lingered for a day or two after he’d confessed his past. Of course, Spec was noticeably absent, which could be the reason.
The door opened as though she’d conjured him with her mind, and Liv strode into the room, followed by Spec on a pair of crutches. Liv held the door for him as he hobbled through.
A few people gasped while others murmured to each other.
Jinx, of course, had no trouble speaking his mind. “Uh, dude, didn’t you have surgery like five minutes ago? Shouldn’t you be in a hospital bed?”
“Do not go there, Jinx,” Liv snapped. She marched into the room ahead of Spec. How could she still look put together after spending a night hiding from a gunman and then waiting in the hospital?
Oh yeah, and being grazed by a bullet?
A row of neat stitches lined the side of her head, but the blood had been cleaned, and she didn’t appear to be in much pain. She wore a simple, matching pastel pink sweatsuit, trendy and stylish as always.
On the other hand, Spec had unruly hair, a day’s worth of beard growth, and skin so pale she wondered if they should have given him an extra pint of blood.
“Ah, I’m guessing he was his usual charming self to the hospital staff.”
Liv’s dark scowl had Jinx shrinking back.
“Yikes,” he muttered. “She’s frightening.”
“I had the surgery last night. It was a success. There’s no reason for me to be in the hospital anymore.”
“Sure,” Liv said, not trying to hide her sarcasm. “Why would you need to stay in a place with trained professionals monitoring you immediately after a life-saving operation?” She jammed her hands on her hips and glared at her man, but the woman couldn’t hide the affection in her gaze.
Talia mashed her lips together. It was either that or let her laughter sneak out. These two were endless entertainment.
Spec snagged the front of Liv’s top and yanked her to him, kissing her square on the mouth. “Love you, too, baby,” he whispered.
Liv rolled her eyes but stopped arguing. It seemed she knew she was only wasting her breath. If Spec didn’t want to be in the hospital, he wouldn’t stay. Spec handed her his crutches when they separated and limped toward the table.
Talia’s spine straightened as Spec neared. Beside her, Pulse tensed. He slipped his hand around her waist and drew her flush against his side. The protective move had regret crossing Spec’s face, but it didn’t last long, replaced by a pained wince.
After a few more slow, cumbersome steps, Spec made it to her and Pulse. No one spoke. Instead, they watched the show, all waiting to see what Spec would do.
Talia held her breath. This moment felt important—it was make-or-break for Pulse and his brother.
Would he thank Pulse for saving his life? Would it come with a ‘but I still want nothing to do with you?’
Her insides wavered. Thank God for Pulse’s strong arm around her. The tough facade she presented to the world would crumble if it weren’t for his support.
She had to give Spec some credit. The man didn’t back down in the face of an uncomfortable situation. He stood tall and looked Pulse square in the eye.
“I was so fucking wrong,” he said.
Talia’s jaw dropped, and Pulse’s hand tightened on her hip.
“I know it might not mean much considering what I did, but I’m fucking sorry.” He shifted his gaze to her. “You didn’t know me before I met Liv, but I was an angry fucker spiraling and losing myself to that anger. Most days, I have it under control, but clearly, I still have work to do.”
She gaped at him. Holy shit. This had to be the most sincere apology she’d ever received. Pulse stood warm and solid beside her. She’d kill to be in his head. Did he accept this? Could he feel Spec’s genuine regret as she could?
Spec shifted so his weight was on his uninjured leg. Sweat dotted his forehead, and his breathing picked up. The man had to be in severe discomfort, yet he stood and faced the people he hurt without a complaint.
“You both saved my fucking life without one second of hesitation, even though I threatened you. I’ll have to live with the shame of holding a gun on your woman for the rest of my life,” he said, focusing on Pulse again. “Aside from incorrectly judging Liv when I met her, this is my biggest fuckup.” He extended his hand to Pulse. “You’re my brother forever, and I vow to protect your woman like I would Olivia and any of the ol’ ladies.” He looked at her again. “Swear on my life you’ll never have anything to fear from me, brother.”
His hand hung in mid-air. Pulse remained frozen beside her, and for one gut-wrenching moment, Talia feared he wouldn’t take Spec’s hand and mend the rift. Could the club survive such a permanent fracture?
But then he turned his head and gazed at her with questioning eyes. He was giving her the final say. Talia had been the one in the sights of Spec’s gun, and if she couldn’t move past that, Pulse would choose her over his brother.
Her heart swelled until it felt close to bursting. This moment would have sealed the deal if she hadn’t already been in love with him.
It was time to put the conflict behind them.
She nodded once.
Pulse’s arm disappeared from her waist as he stepped forward and grasped Spec’s hand, then yanked him into a crushing hug. Talia winced along with Spec, but the man didn’t make a peep of protest. He returned the hug, slapping Pulse on the back.
“Apology accepted,” Pulse said as he released Spec, who was now sweating profusely. “Now sit your stubborn fucking ass down before you destroy the surgeon’s hard work. I’m not saving your ass again if you start bleeding out all over the floor.”
“Ya’ll need to stop being a buncha mother hens,” Spec grumbled. “I’m fine.” But he collapsed into the chair, and the relief on his face showed instantly.
“Everyone, grab a seat,” Curly announced. “Eat first, then we make a plan to take out this cartel fucker.”
Pulse pulled her chair out.
Her cheeks flamed as she accepted a kiss from him as well. These little gestures were so unfamiliar to her that they’d take time to adjust to. Part of her wanted to balk and remind him she was perfectly capable of getting in her own seat, but she fought the urge. Pulse didn’t do things like that for her because he found her unable to manage basic tasks. He simply wanted to do something for her.
Because he loved her.
Only two people had claimed to love her in her lifetime. Her mother passed early, and her father taught her the independence she clung to by never doing a single thing for her.
But now she had Pulse.
“Thank you,” she whispered before sitting. He slipped between her and Spec, kissing her on the cheek as he sat. Face warm, she glanced around to see if the others were staring, but no one paid them any attention. Physical affection was standard practice around here, so instead of making herself feel awkward, she scooted her chair closer to Pulse’s. If she were going to do this, she’d jump in with both feet as she did with everything in life.
Chatter kicked up immediately, and within minutes, plates were full, and laughter shook the walls. It was almost enough to make Talia forget what came next.
But then Pulse’s phone rang.
It cut through the noise like a sharp blade, drawing all eyes. He placed his free hand on her thigh as he pulled the phone from his pocket.
“It’s my old contact.”
“Fuck yes,” Spec said. “Maybe he’s got something useful.”
Pulse swallowed, then pressed answer as he lifted the phone to his ear.
The longest twenty seconds of her life passed as she sat there staring at the side of Pulse’s head, straining to hear what the caller had to say.
“Thanks, man,” Pulse said to conclude the call. He lowered the phone as his eyes narrowed, and a sinister grin curled his lips. Before her eyes, he transformed from a life-saving trauma nurse into a former undercover federal agent. This was a lethal man with skills that would make her lose sleep at night—a competent agent who could handle himself as well as Spec.
He spoke four words that had a chill running down her spine.
“We have a location.”