Chapter 19
Nash
The morning light has shifted from gray to gold across the spare room ceiling. Ruby is tucked against my side, her leg thrown over mine, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest.
"I need coffee," she says. "Need some immediately.
I need coffee intravenously. Is there a medical procedure for that?
There should be. Someone should invent it.
I would invest. I would be the sole investor.
" She tips her chin up to look at me, her copper hair a disaster, the sheet pulled up to her collarbone, one bare shoulder visible. "Nash. Coffee. This is urgent."
"We could go downstairs."
"Not yet. I'm not ready for downstairs." She settles back against my chest. "Although I will say, what just happened was almost as good as coffee."
My hand stills on her back. "Almost."
"I said what I said."
"Almost as good as coffee."
"It's very good coffee, Nash. I take my coffee seriously. You should be flattered by the comparison." She peeks up at me. The grin is forming. "I mean, it's close. It's a tight race. If you'd gone a little longer I might have bumped you above the coffee, but—"
I roll her onto her back and pin her wrists above her head. She yelps, laughing, her body arching under mine.
"Still almost?" I say.
Her breath catches. Her eyes go dark. The laugh dies into something hotter.
"I might need a reminder before I finalize my ranking." She rolls her hips under my hands. "Show me, Nasty."
The name she admitted to this morning. The one she moaned into a pillow. Now she's using it with a grin on her face, and my cock responds before my brain does.
I hold her wrists for three seconds. Watch her pulse jump in her throat. Then I let go, press a kiss to her forehead, and sit up.
"Coffee first," I say.
"NASH."
"You said it was urgent."
"I changed my mind. I have new priorities. My priorities have shifted. Nash. Come back here."
I pull her up by both hands. She comes easily, tucking into my chest, her forehead against my collarbone.
Her body is warm, bare, and loose. The tension from the last week is completely gone.
My hand rests on her lower back, my thumb tracing the curve of her spine.
Her skin is soft under my hand, and the freckles scattered across her shoulder blade are close enough to count for the first time.
"You're stalling," she says into my chest. "You're using physical affection as a delay tactic to avoid getting me coffee."
"Is it working?"
"Extremely well. I hate that it's working. This is manipulation."
"Noted."
She tips her head back and looks at me. Her eyes are bright, green, and warm. Her smile is slow, easy, with nothing held back. The one I would like to see every morning for the rest of my life.
"You're looking at me," she says.
"I'm always looking at you."
"Yeah, but you're doing the new version. The one where you look at me and your face does the thing."
"What thing?"
"The soft thing. The thing where your jaw unclenches and your eyes get warm and you look almost human." She traces my jawline with her finger. "It's very alarming. I'm concerned for your brand."
I catch her finger. Bring it to my mouth. Press my lips against the tip. Her breath catches, her eyes widen, and the pink that floods her cheeks spreads down her neck.
"Okay," she whispers. "The brand is fine. The brand is great."
I lean down and kiss her. Slow, unhurried, tasting her. She melts into it, and her hand slides up my chest to my neck, then her fingers thread into my hair. When I pull back, she chases my mouth for a second before catching herself.
"Coffee," she says. "I haven't forgotten. I can be kissed and maintain a list of demands simultaneously."
"I know you can."
"Good. Coffee is item one. Item two is breakfast. Item three is you telling me what this is."
"What what is?"
"This." She gestures between us. "Us. The spare room. What just happened. The part where you said my girl and I almost cried. Is this a thing? Are we a thing? Because I need to update my files and the paperwork is extensive."
I tuck her hair behind her ear. The strand catches on my knuckle, and I hold it there for a second before letting go.
"We're a thing, Ruby."
Her face does something I've never seen. Her eyes go bright as her bottom lip trembles once before she bites it.
"Okay," she says. Quiet. "Good. That's good. That's excellent. I'm very calm about this."
"You're shaking."
"That's the coffee withdrawal. Unrelated."
I pull her into my chest and hold her there. Her arms wrap around me, her face buried in my neck, and for a full minute neither of us speaks. Her heartbeat hammers against my ribs. Mine matches it.
"We have to go downstairs eventually," she says.
"I know."
"They're going to be insufferable."
"I know."
"East is going to say something. Knox is going to smirk. Kyle is going to make a comment that he thinks is subtle and isn't. Candace is going to give me the look. Darla is going to cry." She pulls back. "Darla is crying at everything right now. She cried about hydrangeas last night."
"I remember."
"Maggie is going to smile that quiet smile. James is going to nod once. Frankie is going to pretend she doesn't care, but she'll light a candle later. Amelia is going to turn pink and not know where to look." Ruby takes a breath. "I've thought about this."
"Clearly."
"I've thought about it because I know this club, and I know what they do to couples.
Malachi and Candace got destroyed. Knox and Sloane, after the supply closet?
East made an announcement. With a megaphone.
After the rescue, East and Darla took too long getting to the clubhouse, and Kyle started a timer on the whiteboard. "
"I remember the timer."
"So I need you to understand that when we walk down those stairs, we are walking into an ambush."
"I've walked into ambushes before."
"Not like this. This is an emotional ambush. There's no tactical response. There's no perimeter. Just East with a grin and a comment about soundproofing."
I kiss her forehead. "I'll handle it."
"You'll handle it?"
"I'll handle it."
She studies me. "You're going to stand there and take it, aren't you? The stoic thing. The wall thing. While I die of embarrassment."
"I'm going to stand there, hold your hand, and let them say whatever they need to say."
Her mouth opens. Closes. I take her hand.
"Hold my hand," she repeats.
"In front of all of them."
"Nash."
"Openly."
"You're going to hold my hand. In front of the entire club. Openly."
"That's what I said."
Her eyes fill. She blinks it back hard, pressing her lips together.
"That's not fair," she says. "You can't just say things like that. I was prepared for the ambush. I was not prepared for you being sweet. These are two different battle plans."
I stand. Pull her up. She grabs my shirt from the floor and pulls it over her head, the hem falling to her mid-thigh, then reaches for her leggings.
"Quick question." She steps into them, tugging them up her hips. "Am I allowed to go downstairs without panties, or is that going to be a whole thing again?"
My jaw tightens. She sees it and grins.
"Because Rider packed the bag, and Rider did not pack panties. I just want to confirm the policy before I walk into a room full of your brothers commando."
"Ruby."
"That's not a clear answer. I need a ruling. Is the Sergeant-at-Arms issuing an official position on my underwear situation?"
"We're going downstairs. Now."
"Still no ruling." She smooths the leggings over her hips. "I'm going to interpret the silence as approval."
Bare feet on the cold floor.
"Ready?" I say.
"Absolutely not."
I take her hand and open the door.
The clubhouse's main room smells like coffee and bacon.
Maggie has taken over the stove. James is beside her with his tea.
Knox sits at the table with his laptop, Sloane's next to him picking at a plate.
East and Darla are on the couch, East's arm is around her. Both of them are watching the stairs.
They all look up when we appear. The silence lasts exactly one and a half seconds.
"Well," East says, grinning so wide it takes up half his face. "That was a long talk."
"It was thorough," I say.
"Thorough." East nods slowly. "Is that what we're calling it? Because these walls are very thin, brother. Very thin."
Ruby's hand tightens in mine, and I squeeze back.
Knox doesn't look up from his laptop. "About time."
Sloane smacks his arm. "Be nice."
"That is nice. I've been watching this for fourteen months. About time is generous."
Kyle comes around the half wall with a plate of bacon, stops dead when he sees our hands, and his eyes go wide.
"Oh my god. Oh my god! Is this happening?
Is this officially happening? I need documentation.
Where's my clipboard? This falls under Prank War Adjacent Emotional Developments. I have jurisdiction."
"You don't have jurisdiction," Candace says from the couch, smiling.
Darla is already crying, and East hands her a napkin without looking.
"I'm fine," Darla says, dabbing her eyes. "I'm FINE. This is hormonal. This is the twins."
"It's not the twins," Sloane says.
"It's a little because of the twins."
Maggie sets two plates on the table that are loaded with bacon, eggs, toast. Then looks at me, looks at Ruby, looks at our hands, and smiles. James lifts his tea mug from across the room and nods once.
Ruby stands in the middle of it, her hand in mine, the flush on her cheeks spreading as her eyes move from face to face.
"I have a statement," she says.
The room waits.
"I would like it noted for the record that Nashville Sutton held my hand walking down the stairs. Voluntarily. In public. With witnesses. This has been submitted as evidence and cannot be retracted." She squeezes my hand. "The prosecution rests."
"The club votes to accept the evidence," East says. "All in favor?"
Every hand in the room goes up, including Maggie's spatula.