17. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Reeve
Sweeping the glass from the floor, I huff in frustration when I hear Chad and Rowan tousling around.
"What happened?" Trix asks, rounding the bar.
I glance at her over my shoulder, drag my eyes up the length of her body from my crouched position, then clamp my jaw shut.
The tight denim jeans clinging to her legs almost knocked me off my feet this morning. Those matched with the skintight black top she has on under the cropped denim jacket, which cuts off just above her wide, grabbable hips, look like they'd fit perfectly in my hands.
I like it when she wears her hair down as the long wavy strands brush against her back when she moves. And every time she leans forward, a few fall around her face, framing her rounded cheeks, giving her an angelic, cute look.
My fingers twitch when I think about brushing her hair behind her ears, revealing the glittering silver jewelry I know she wears.
"Well?"
Realizing I've been staring at her for too long, I shake my head and stand up, tipping the broken glass into the trash.
"Just Chad and Rowan being idiots," I grumble, nodding toward the two boys currently wrestling with each other on top of one of the pool tables.
The double doors swing open, and Warren, our Vice President, walks in with the newest prospect trailing behind him. Shucking off his leather cut and hooking it over his arm, his eyes hone in on the two youngsters and he shakes his head.
"Cut it out!" he shouts, voice echoing through the quiet room. Chad and Rowan pull apart immediately, looking at War with wide eyes before scurrying over to one of the booths.
Trix takes a step closer to me, and I find myself shifting my body in front of her.
Warren's eyes coast over the room and when they land on me, he tips his head before walking over.
As he reaches the bar, his eyes flick away from mine. I can tell he's spotted Trix when a flirtatious smile spreads across his weathered face as he sits on one of the stools.
"Well, you must be the lovely Beatrix I've been told about," he says.
She steps around me, and I'm surprised to see her rosy cheeks bunched up and her lips spread wide.
"I go by Trix, but yes, that's me," she says, rolling her lips inward. "And who might you be?"
"Warren Russell, also known as the Vice President of the Steel Devils, but you can call me War."
He reaches for her hand, and when she places her palm into his, he lifts it to his mouth, pressing a soft, gentle kiss against the smooth skin of her fingers.
I watch the exchange with narrowed eyes, then cross my arms over my chest when I get the urge to yank her hand away and push her behind me again so he can no longer look at her.
"Shouldn't you be calling everyone upstairs for church now you're back?" I grit out, then tear my eyes away from their hands that are still connected and settle them on Warren's face.
He gently lets go and turns to me with raised brows. His eyes curiously glance between Trix and I for a few moments before he nods.
"That I should," he says. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Trix."
Her cheeks flush, but she releases a cute giggle as he spins around on the stool, claps his hands against his thighs, then stands up.
"Time for church, boys!"
All three prospects stop their conversation immediately and follow War up the stairs. Dodger throws his last dart at the board, then slaps his hand on Munch's shoulder as they also head toward the stairs. Meanwhile, I pull my phone from my pocket and tap out a text to the rest of the guys.
"I'm confused," Trix says, turning to me with a frown. "There's no church upstairs… not that I know of anyway."
Chuckling, I shake my head.
"Not a literal church, Red. Church for us is like a team meeting."
Her brows furrow deeper.
"We'll be back down soon," I tell her, then tap my knuckles on the bar before scooting around her. "I'd recommend getting whatever food Honey made yesterday out of the fridge in preparation for everyone. Trust me, they'll be ravenous, and thirsty after."
Mackie walks through the door to the meeting room, Luxe in tow, and apologizes for being late as they take their seats at the large table.
All eyes dart to Warren now that everyone's here. He sighs, ruffling his dirty blond hair as he leans back in his chair.
"Kieran's condition is worsening," he says, talking about the President of The Cursed Knights, an MC a few towns over we've had an amicable relationship with for a few years.
"Although he continues to tell me Ryan will hold up their side of our deal once he's gone, I'm finding it harder to believe each time I go there. "
"How long's Kieran got left?" Milo asks from beside me.
Warren chuckles. "I didn't exactly ask, kid. By the looks of him, though, I'd say not long. I'm sure he's got Ryan on a tight leash at the moment, but I'm pretty sure we're gonna have some trouble on our hands once Kieran's gone."
Callux sighs and shakes his head. "Brilliant."
"Well, in other news, we've got a shipment to run over to Vegas next weekend," Milo adds, informing Warren, even though I'm sure he already knows.
"Yeah, I'll be joining that trip," he says, leaning forward to look at Slate and Cruz. "That work for you guys?"
Cruz nods. "Yeah, we're still picking out routes and everything. We'll have it sorted in a few days and give you updates on Friday during church."
"Prospects can go with you on this trip," Callux adds. "I've got other shit to deal with here, so I'll be staying behind. War, Reeve, and Milo can make sure everything goes down smoothly. Luxe, you join them. Make sure you keep the prospects in line."
"Anyone else wanting to tag along?" Warren asks, eyes flicking to Mouse, who's sitting at the end of the table next to Dodger.
Mouse shakes his head.
"I'll go if I'm needed," Dodger says, shrugging. "If not, I'll happily stay back and spend the weekend with Lola."
"You mean to say you'll be here, just like everyone else will," Callux says, his voice firm. "You know the deal, Dodge."
Dodger gulps and nods. "Yeah, sure thing, Prez."
"Any other updates?" When no one says anything, Callux slaps his hand against the table, then stands up. "Great. Clear out then."