Chapter Two
CLAY
This girl looks like a tantalizing lost pink cupcake surrounded by a bunch of reprobates looking for a sugar hit.
Her fingers tremble a little, those big blue eyes sweeping round the room.
They’re the kind of blue you see at the center of a flame, bright and hypnotizing.
Cute little freckles dust her nose and her soft pink lips are parted.
She’s curvy. Very curvy. Hips that flare beneath that ridiculous pink dress and full tits that strain against the fabric.
I drag my gaze back to her face before my thoughts go somewhere they shouldn't.
A rapid pulse flutters at her throat. She doesn’t run, though. Standing there in her pretty pink dress, surrounded by mean-ass bikers who tower over her, she holds her ground.
Interesting.
“Hugs for Hearts is a Valentine's initiative focused on combating loneliness in small communities.” Her voice is steadier now. “Studies show that meaningful human touch reduces cortisol, lowers blood pressure, and increases oxytocin… that’s the bonding hormone. But in our increasingly disconnected world, many people go days or even weeks without a single hug.”
She clicks to the next slide: statistics about isolation. Elderly people who haven't been touched in months and teenagers so glued to their phones they've forgotten how to connect face to face.
“Our Valentine’s Day event will feature hug stations staffed by trained volunteers, donation drives for local mental health services, and community connection activities.
The goal isn't just to raise money, it's to remind people that they matter.
That someone cares enough to reach out and hold them. "
Hug stations and cuddle volunteers? Ridiculous.
But I can't stop watching Karina.
She's glowing; her whole face transformed. She talks about human connection as if it's her personal crusade. Naive. And so damn cute that it catches me off guard. I haven't met anyone this genuine in years.
“The event is sponsored by Hearts United, a nonprofit founded by Ty Gazello.” She clicks to a new slide, and a photo appears on the screen. “Ty has dedicated his life to building stronger communities…”
Everything in me goes cold. The face on the screen isn't Ty Gazello.
It's Chet Morgan.
I spent three weeks surveilling him last year in Denver for a private security client whose elderly mother got swindled out of her retirement savings.
Chet Morgan, con artist extraordinaire, who specializes in fake charities and vulnerable marks.
He skipped town two days before we could hand our evidence over to the cops.
And here he is running another scam, with this sweet, earnest woman as his unwitting front. She's still talking about volunteer training, but I've stopped listening. How deep is she in this? Does she know?
No. One look at her face tells me she has no idea.
She believes in this charity and she has faith in him.
But when the scam collapses, she'll be the one left holding the bag.
Her name on the paperwork and her reputation destroyed, while fuckface Chet Morgan disappears with the money.
My jaw clenches until my teeth ache. I won't let that happen.
Karina finishes her pitch. The room is silent, while the guys look at me, waiting for my lead.
I stand.
She swallows, her body tense as I walk toward her. She's so small compared to me, that the top of her head barely reaches my shoulder. Her eyes aren't just blue; they have little flecks of gold near the pupils. I’m close enough to breathe in that warm vanilla scent.
“Show me one of these hugs,” I say.
She blinks. “What?”
“You want my club involved?” I keep my voice flat, my expression blank. “Show me what you're selling.”
Karina’s cheeks flush. Pinker than her dress. “I… it's a heart-to-heart hug. You just… the hugger opens their arms, and the recipient steps in, and you hold each other heart to heart for at least twenty seconds. That's the minimum time needed to trigger oxytocin release.”
“Show me.”
For a second, I think she's going to refuse. Her eyes dart to the door, then back to me. But that steel surfaces again and she lifts her chin, opening her arms wide.
I step into them.
She's so fucking soft. Her arms wrap around my waist because she can't reach my shoulders, and her cheek presses against my chest, right over my heart. She fits against me like she was made for me, all warm curves and vanilla sugar, the tickle of her hair against my jaw.
My arms come up around her. I tell myself it's for show. I’m gaining her trust and figuring out how to handle Chet Morgan. But when I pull her closer and her breath catches, when her fingers curl into the back of my shirt and hold on, I know I'm full of shit.
Twenty seconds. That's what she said. I hold her for a full minute, and when I finally let go, her face is flushed and her eyes have gone hazy. My entire MC is staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“The Ridge Renegades will help with your event,” I announce to the room. “I'll personally oversee our involvement.”
Viper's eyebrows shoot up, while Brick grins like he knows a secret.
Karina blurts out her thanks and exchanges numbers with me. Her hand shakes when she takes my phone to type in her contact info. Good. She should be shaken.
I know I fucking am.
She leaves in a swirl of pink, and my eyes track her out the door.
Viper sidles up next to me. “Uh… Prez? You good?”
No. I'm not good. I just volunteered to spend the next week protecting a woman who makes me feel things I buried a long time ago, from a con artist who's going to be very unhappy when I burn his operation down.
“Get me everything you can find on Chet Morgan,” I say. “He's going by Ty Gazello now. Running a fake charity called Hearts United.”
Viper's expression hardens. "That shitheel from the Bremston case?"
“The same.”
“And the girl?”
I stare at the door she walked through. I can still feel the press of her body against mine.
“She doesn't know," I say. "We're going to make sure she never gets hurt by this.”
Viper nods and heads out to start digging, while I pull out my phone and type a message.
Me: Dinner tomorrow. We'll discuss the event. Pick you up at 7.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Karina: Okay.
I pocket my phone.
This is a bad idea. Getting involved: that's not how I operate. I protect people from a distance and fix things without letting emotions get in the way. But it took one fucking hug from her to show me I’m in too deep to walk away.
Fuck.