Chapter 13 #2
Brooke finally looks over and our eyes catch for half a second before her smile softens when she sees me, not big and dramatic just real, like she’s glad I’m here. That makes my heart beat wildly.
“Hey, Rev,” she says easily.
“Hey,” I answer, trying to sound normal and probably failing. I take another swallow and lean against the counter, pretending I’m more interested in the label than the way she keeps shifting her weight like she’s comfortable being exactly where she is.
Blade watches me over the rim of his glass. “You gonna stop scowling at the cabinets, or should we be worried they offended you?”
“I’m not scowling,” I mutter.
Switch laughs. “Bro, you absolutely are.”
Bella flicks a dish towel at my arm. “Relax. You’re killing the vibe.”
“Didn’t realize I was responsible for the vibe.”
Blade tilts his head. “You’re being a grumpy ass. What’s your fucking problem?”
I open my mouth then close it again because I don’t have an answer that doesn’t crack something open I’m not ready to deal with. “Nothing. Just drop it.”
Brooke watches the exchange with quiet amusement, her eyes flicking between us like she’s tracking a tennis match, and she doesn’t look tense or fragile. She looks good, comfortable and present, which makes the knot in my gut loosen and tighten at the same time.
No one says the thing sitting in the middle of the room between us and no one brings up last week or why I haven’t been around or why she looks different tonight in a way I don’t quite know how to handle, not that they even know there’s something to say.
I take another drink and try to shake off the edge crawling under my skin, but it doesn’t work worth a damn because all I can really think about is how much I want to walk up to her and pull her perfectly curvy body against mine.
A few minutes later dinner is ready and Bella is telling us all to sit.
“Hey,” Switch says, reaching across for the basket in the middle of the table. “I’m not done with that.”
Blade’s already pulling a roll free. “You hesitated.”
“That’s not how ownership works.”
“That’s exactly how it works.”
Bella laughs, shaking her head as she slides her plate a little farther from the edge. “You two are unbelievable.”
Blade notices the second Bri shifts in her chair, his hand already lifting like he’s about to steady her.
“I’m fine,” Bri says, giving him a look. “I adjusted, that’s all.”
“Just making sure,” he replies, still watching her a second longer than necessary.
Switch snorts into his drink. “You’re gonna sprain something hovering like that.”
Blade flicks him a look. “Worry about your own woman.”
Bella shakes her head, amused, and nudges her knee lightly against Switch’s under the table. “Leave him alone. He’s been like this since she started showing.”
Brooke smiles at that, eyes warm as she watches them. “It’s kind of sweet.”
Bri laughs softly. “Don’t tell him that. He’ll get worse.”
Blade’s mouth twitches even though he tries to hide it. “Eat.”
“Yes, sir,” Bri says dryly, reaching for her fork again.
Brooke leans forward onto her elbows, chin tipped toward Bella as she laughs at something Switch says, her hair falling loose around her shoulders instead of pinned back the way she usually wears it.
She looks settled. Like she belongs right in the middle of the noise and the chaos instead of managing it from the edges.
I tell myself to look away from her, but I don’t. I can’t.
The plates slowly start emptying, conversation easing into slower voices and satisfied groans. Bella pushes her plate away with a small sigh. “Okay, I’m officially full.”
“Same,” Switch says, leaning back in his chair. “I regret nothing.”
Bri shakes her head. “You’re going to regret it in about twenty minutes.”
“Worth it.”
I shove my chair back and start gathering plates without really thinking about it, stacking them in my arms. Blade stands to help immediately, grabbing cups and silverware. Switch follows, still rubbing his stomach. “Look at us. Domestic as hell.”
As I lift Brooke’s plate from in front of her, our eyes catch for a half-second.
Her smile softens, quieter than before. I look away and head for the sink before I do something dumb.
When the plates finally start emptying and the noise settles into satisfied groans and lazy conversation, I push my chair back and start stacking dishes without thinking about it.
“I got it,” Bella says automatically.
“I know,” I answer, already gathering plates. “Still doing it.”
Blade and Switch follow suit, scooping up cups and silverware and heading for the sink like this is a well-rehearsed routine, while the women drift toward the hallway when Bella claps her hands.
“Come on,” she says, excitement creeping into her voice. “I wanna show you two something.”
“What kind of something?” Bri asks.
Bella just grins and waves them along toward Jax’s room, and Brooke hesitates for half a second before following, glancing back once.
The kitchen fills with the sound of running water and clinking dishes as Blade scrubs, Switch dries, and I rinse and stack, keeping my hands busy.
About ten minutes later, a squeal cuts through the house from down the hall, high-pitched and excited, followed by overlapping voices.
Switch smirks, towel slung over his shoulder. “Guess the cat’s outta the bag.”
I glance up. “What do you mean?”
He grins wider. “Bella’s pregnant again.”
The words hit sideways. “Again?” I ask, and it comes out harder than I mean it to.
Switch’s smile drops instantly. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You said plenty,” he snaps, stepping closer. “You got a problem with my family growing?”
Blade straightens slowly, eyes flicking between us. “Alright, both of you, take it down a notch.”
“I’m fine,” I snap.
“No, you’re not,” Switch fires back. “You’ve been a pissed-off asshole all night.”
I step into his space before I even realize I’m moving. “Back the fuck up.”
Switch squares his shoulders. “Make me.”
Blade wedges himself between us before this turns into something stupid. “Enough. Both of you.”
My hands curl into fists anyway and my pulse hammers, adrenaline already kicking up like I’m about to throw a punch instead of common sense.
Switch shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”
I grab my jacket off the chair. “I’m out.”
Blade grabs my arm. “Rev, don’t be an idiot.”
“Too late,” I snap, yanking free and heading for the door before I say something I can’t walk back.
The night air hits me hard and I pace the driveway once, twice, trying to burn off the surge crawling under my skin, but it doesn’t work because I need motion and speed and space. I swing a leg over my bike and shove the key into the ignition.
“Rev.”
I look up and see Brooke standing at the edge of the porch with her arms folded across her chest, hair catching the porch light, her face tight with concern. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been in a bad mood all night.”
“Princess,” I say, already turning the key. “I need to ride. Go back inside.”
Her eyes flash. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
I sigh and shake my head. “Night, Princess.”
I expect her to turn away. Instead, she steps closer, grabs the back of my jacket, and swings onto the bike behind me like she’s done it a hundred times, her body pressing into my back while her arms slide around my waist. “Can’t get rid of me that easily,” she says near my ear.
It knocks the breath clean out of me for a second then I pass her my spare helmet without arguing and she settles it on, scoots in closer, and taps my side like she’s ready.
We back out of the driveway and roll onto the road, the house lights shrinking behind us as I open the throttle and let the miles stretch out while the road clears and the tension slowly bleeds off with every turn and straightaway.
Brooke stays pressed into my back, arms locked around me, steady and warm and exactly where she should be, and it feels right, maybe too right.
I don’t head back toward town and instead take the back road out past the edge of Jackson until the lights thin and the road gets quiet, pulling into the gravel lot of a bar I found years ago when I needed space from everything. I cut the engine. “I need a drink.”
She nods and swings her leg over while I hop off and hold my hand out automatically to steady her as she climbs down, her fingers sliding into mine.
I mean to let go, I was only trying to steady her, but I don’t and neither does she. For a second we just stand there with our hands linked before we finally head inside.
We grab a corner booth before the place really clocks us, the bar quiet with a handful of regulars scattered around, and I take the side facing the room without thinking while Brooke slides in across from me, tucking one leg under herself and setting her helmet beside her.
A waiter wanders over with a menu in hand and his eyes go straight to her, lingering long enough to piss me the hell off.
“Well hey there,” he says to her instead of both of us. “What can I get you tonight, beautiful?”
Brooke blinks, caught off guard, polite smile slipping into place. “Uh…”
“Two whiskeys,” I cut in, voice flat. “Neat.”
He finally looks at me like I just interrupted his favorite show. “You sure you don’t want to look at the menu first?” He asks, looking back at Brooke.
“No,” I say. “Two whiskeys. Now.”
His smile tightens, clearly not loving my tone, but he scribbles it down anyway and mutters, “Alright. Coming right up,” before taking one more unnecessary glance at Brooke and walking off.
Brooke watches me quietly for a second and then looks down at the tabletop, fingers tracing the grain of the wood while she lets me brood without poking or trying to lighten the mood.
The silence stretches until I scrub a hand over my face and finally let out a breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m fucking this all up. I’m not good company tonight. You shouldn’t have come.”
She shakes her head immediately. “Not sure if you’re trying to piss me off, Rev, but you’re doing one hell of a job.” I glance up and meet her steady, open gaze with no judgment in it. “You want to talk about it?” she asks gently.
I open my mouth to answer but we’re interrupted by the asshat.
“Here you go,” the waiter cuts in, sliding the glasses onto the table, his attention snapping straight back to Brooke. “Anything else I can get you, sweetheart?”
My fingers curl around the edge of the table. “No. We’re good.”
Brooke gives him a polite nod anyway. “Thanks.”
He grins at her like he just won something and finally walks away.
My jaw locks as I wrap my hand around the glass and take a long pull, the burn grounding me just enough to keep my mouth shut.
Brooke takes a smaller sip while keeping her eyes on my face when she sets the glass back down. “Tell me what’s going on, Rev,” she says quietly.