29. Quinn
29
QUINN
“ S moke. Quinn,” Atom yells, waving from his seat in the restaurant.
“Fuck me,” Smoke mutters to me.
“I just wanted you to myself.”
I grin at him and then wave at Ember.
“Me too. But we can’t just blow off our friends.”
“I can when they’re standing between us eating and you blowing me.”
I cover my mouth as I burst out laughing.
“I mean, that can still happen. The toilets in here are unisex and in the basement.”
He reaches for my wrist and grips it.
“Don’t tease me unless you mean it.”
I playfully shake out of his hold.
“Who said anything about not meaning it?”
Smoke groans as he runs a thumb over my cheekbone.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sugar.”
It feels brave to admit what I want.
I reach up onto my tiptoes, holding the edges of his cut for support, and pull his ear to my lips.
“I really liked it when Dice nearly caught us. And I really like it when you tell me what to do.”
Smoke drops his lips to my ear.
“In that case, when we’re alone later, I’m gonna spank your ass for giving me a very noticeable boner, before I shove said boner down the back of your throat.”
He takes my hand and leads me through the restaurant.
It’s a simple gesture, but I like the way he leads me.
I know I’m a groan-ass woman who could easily get from the entrance of the restaurant to my friends, but something settles as I let him walk ahead of me.
We get some odd looks.
I’m not sure a biker date night looks like everybody else’s, but Atom and Smoke both made the decision to wear their cuts and stand out like sore thumbs against the low jazz music playing in the background.
And I’m sure some of the weird looks are because of who we are.
Quinn, the little sister of missing Melody Moran.
And Smoke, one of the last people to see Melody alive.
Some people listen to way too many true crime podcasts.
I can see them mentally deciding if they should alert law enforcement.
Not sure I saw any of this coming either, when I moved into his house while he was away.
But I find it hard to regret it.
I feel safe in this man’s presence.
More, I feel loved.
Loved?
I trip over my own feet at the thought, and stumble.
But Smoke is there to catch me.
“Steady, sugar. Folks in here already think I’m gonna kill you.”
My grin comes unbidden.
“In some ways, you already do.”
Smoke shocks the shit out of me by putting his hand around my throat and squeezing it gently while he kisses me way too deeply for a restaurant.
But show me a straight girl who doesn’t dream of the grand gesture moment, when the man says fuck it and shows everyone just how much he loves her.
And there’s that word again.
Love.
There’s a lot of heavy lifting in those four letters, and I’m not sure it’s a label I’m ready to claim yet.
But in contrast, I’m more than ready to be claimed by him.
Smoke pulls away an inch, and stares at me intently.
“The only person I see is you.”
Then, he winks and takes my hand again, leading us to our friends.
“Go big or go home, eh?” Atom asks, with a grin.
“It’s time I stopped doing things in half-measures,” Smoke says.
Atom stands, and they do that complicated man hug that involves weird handshakes and back slaps.
“Did you guys already order? Because we don’t want to interrupt you.”
Ember hugs me.
“No. Please. Sit. And, for the record, I totally called this.”
Atom looks at Ember.
“You did?”
Ember nods smugly.
“Yup. The day you dropped me off and took Smoke to the clubhouse. The looks he was giving her could have set fire to tap water.”
A server, seeing what is going on, quickly moves the empty two-seater table next to theirs over, so we can sit as a four.
I’m about to sit next to Ember when Smoke gently tugs on my wrist to move me next to Atom.
“The chairs are fucking tiny. I’ll end up sitting on Atom’s lap if I try to sit next to him.”
“You are quite the pair of amazing shoulders,” Ember says.
I glance at my friend.
“Indeed.”
“So, what the fuck happened?” Atom asks after we’ve ordered our food.
“Thought you guys hated each other.”
I’m thinking of how to answer that question in a way that’s respectful of our past, Melody, and the things we’re working through now, but Smoke beats me to the punch.
“She bakes like I fight.”
I smile, even as I’m confused.
“What?”
He looks at me.
“You’re all in, sugar. You want to be the best at what you do. You work hard for it. You make it look easy, and the outcome is always what you planned. Plus, you look fucking cute doing it.”
I’m not sure where all this romantic conversation has suddenly appeared from, but I am more than willing to accept it.
“Do you look cute fighting?”
Atom laughs.
“All the time. It’s all his charisma. I mean, the guy is packed with charm and?—”
“Fuck you,” Smoke says.
Atom laughs hard, and I reach for Smoke’s hand across the table.
“That was really sweet of you.”
When he smiles at me, everything feels right with the world.
“Let’s go to the bathroom before our meal gets here,” Ember says suddenly, standing from her seat.
I don’t know what makes me look to Smoke for approval.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world.
He nods, a minute gesture that most people in the restaurant would have missed.
Not even Ember noticed, because she’s already walking toward the back of the restaurant.
No sooner have I pushed the doors open than she tugs me inside and pulls me into a full hug.
“I’m so excited for you. How is it?”
I’m not entirely sure I know what she’s asking, but I try to be honest with my friend.
“It’s unexpected, and different, and absolutely perfect.”
Ember smiles as she grips both my arms. “I never saw Smoke as someone who was going to settle down. And I don’t want to make assumptions, but I would imagine his accident can change perspectives.”
I think about the deeply personal conversations he and I have had, and it feels like a betrayal to reveal any of that content, even if it’s to one of my closest friends.
“Things change. Like you and Atom. Who knows why the timing or circumstance was once very wrong, and yet now feels very, very right?”
“Well, from that kiss in the middle of the restaurant, I would say things are going very, very, very, very?—”
“Alright,” I say with a chuckle.
“I get your point.”
“Right?” she says emphatically.
I take a deep breath.
“It was complicated, at first, to reconcile what happened to Melody, Smoke, and me. But we’ve talked, long and hard. Covered the difficult ground. And I feel good with where we’re at.”
Ember sighs.
“Then I’m really happy for you. Can I ask one last question?”
“You didn’t ask permission for any of the others.”
“You’ve read all those steamy romance books. As heroes go, does he live up to the title?”
I think about all the romance books I’ve loved.
Protective heroes. Grumpy-sunshine tropes.
Being loved in spite of PTSD and other mental health challenges.
Feeling worthy of love wherever you are at in life.
Accepting people for exactly who they are.
Feeling like you can bare your soul to them.
Feeling like you can bare your body, unashamedly, with them too.
How the sum of it all is what matters.
Of feeling like the two of you are on the same side, like it’s the two of you against the world.
Having a love that makes sense to the two of you, even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else on the planet.
Of having someone who loves you as much as you love them.
And how that will see you through the very worst life can throw at you and get you out the other side in one piece.
The thought makes my heart race.
“Yes. He does.” The three words are like the tip of the iceberg.
“But if I start explaining all the ways, we’ll be here all night and miss our first double date.”
“Maybe we can make it a regular thing, get the boys to take us out dancing and drinking. Although, Atom can’t dance, and I’ve got no idea if Smoke can.”
I know she’s talking about line dancing, which she loves, but in my head, an X-rated version of Smoke doing some kind of striptease and grind in our bedroom is what comes to mind.
I bite down on my lower lip to stifle the grin.
“That sounds perfect.”
The rest of dinner passes by in a blur, with so much laughter that we’re told by the manager to keep it down or he’ll ask us to leave.
We finish our dinner in equally jubilant but more muted tones.
We say our goodbyes at the exit, and Atom and Ember head to their place over Ember’s bar.
Most of the fire damage to the apartment was cosmetic, and with the help of the club, has been repaired quickly.
They asked us to join, but Smoke was quick to answer that I have an early start in the morning, so it was time for us to go home.
“You good being here?” Smoke asks, his hand over my shoulder as we approach the cream door next to the front of the bakery.
“I’ve been here quite a bit during the day. I have my lunch up there most days. It’s just at night, when it’s dark and I’m alone. It feels terrifying. Haven’t slept here since I started sleeping at your place.”
Smoke steps behind me as I put the key in the lock.
“Then, let’s try to make some better memories for you.”
I lean my head to the right so he can place a line of kisses up my neck.
His hands slide up my body until they cup my breasts.
“Not sure I’ll ever get enough of your body. I like how perfect and little you are. Not these, of course.” He squeezes my breasts tenderly.
“Just you and the package you come in.”
The words whispered against my skin make me shiver.
Then, he lets go and pushes the door open so I can go in ahead of him.
I slip my denim jacket off my shoulders and hang it on the hook in the hallway before the stairs that lead up to the apartment.
“It’s been a long time since I was in here,” Smoke says, flicking on the light.
“I only remember you visiting a few times. I thought your boots were huge.”
He grins at that.
“I’ve been a size thirteen since I was fifteen years old. My mom used to say I was like a puppy, that I’d grow into my feet.”
I look him up and down slowly.
“I’d say that happened.”
Smoke tips his chin in the direction of the stairs.
“Up. Let’s see what else has changed.”
I take the first few stairs and then stop.
When I turn, we’re almost at eye level, and Smoke puts his hands on my hips.
“Nothing.”
“What?” Smoke asks.
“Nothing has changed. It started with Mom. She wanted everything to be the same for when Melody returned. She read somewhere that people who had been kidnapped needed to return to the familiar as quickly as possible, depending on their mental state. So, Mom became obsessed with keeping it the same. By the time she died, I guess I felt that changing anything would be disrespectful to her memory. So, nothing has changed. It’s tidy, but an old-fashioned mess inside. Needs decorating and updating and painting. I had the smallest bedroom as the youngest sibling, and I haven’t moved out of it. Everything is utterly the same, Smoke. And sometimes, I feel like I could choke on the weight of it.”
Smoke pulls me to him, holding me tenderly, his wide palms on my back.
“It’s been a long fucking time, sugar. Maybe it’s time to move on. Let’s start making those memories by turning this into the home you want.”