CHAPTER 16
RYKER
I lean forward where I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, my elbows resting on my knees. It’s not easy to stop myself from bouncing my leg, but I do. There’s a certain anticipation thrumming through me tonight and I know exactly why it’s buzzing underneath my skin.
Ezra has settled into being here over the last few days. The evidence of her living in my home has started to spread. Watching her find her new normal has been a revelation.
The first day she walked around the house like a scared deer. She seemed to be unwilling to even take heavy steps. It was as if she wasn’t sure if she should take up space or not.
As much as I wanted to tell her she can take up as much room as she likes, I figured treating it as normal would allow her to relax. It’s been gradual, but she has.
Without even needing to be in the room, I can see how my woman has left her mark on the place. I rigged something up for her to hang the bell from. Since I put it in the living room, it means I get to watch her while she’s working on it.
Right out there for me to enjoy.
Right where I want her.
It’s given us a chance to talk. I’ve learned a lot more about Ezra than I ever hoped to be able to learn.
She’s quirky, but in a silly way. While she takes a lot of things seriously, she doesn’t take herself seriously. It’s endearing.
I love that about her.
She’s thoughtful when it comes to the important things. When we’ve talked about the future, she was very intentional with her words. Knowing she wants kids, that she hopes to be a mom, and the life she wants her kids to have, only made me want her more.
I’ve started to reassess how I’ve always told myself to look at her. Sure, her dad sheltered her in a lot of ways.
But it didn’t have anything to do with protection, like I had assumed. It was control.
It would be easy to condemn the man for it, but the more she’s opened up about her childhood, the more I think it all came from love. He just sucks at it.
I’m not sure I would have done any better if I were in his shoes. That’s the part that really pisses me off.
I’m not interested in sympathizing with the man.
I might have to. In the future. The distant future.
Now we’re getting ready to head over to the clubhouse for a party. It’s the first official one where Ezra will be by my side. If the anxiety that’s been rolling off her while she flits around getting ready is anything to go by, she’s aware of what this means.
Bobby still being in the wind isn’t helping with her worry.
It’s really starting to piss me off.
“Be prepared for people to give you shit,” I project my voice to where the bathroom door is slightly open.
If she hustles out of the bathroom one more time in the tiny satin panties and bra she’s wearing to grab a different piece of clothing, I’m not going to be able to hold back. A man can only be tortured so much.
She’s already darted out of the bathroom three times. Just her bra and panties hiding her from me.
Every time the door swings open is like a knife fraying just a little bit more of the rope holding my control in check. It’s almost been sawed through at this point.
My fists clench and I take a deep breath as I hear a scoff coming from the bathroom.
“I’m always prepared for that. It’s just a matter of what kind of shit to expect.
” Her tone turns serious, “You don’t even want to know how bad parent-teacher conferences can be.
Mama bears are no joke and when they think I’m insulting their intelligence through their offspring? Terrifying.”
I chuckle, my eyes locked on the sliver of light coming from the bathroom, the sliver I’m allowed because she kept the door open. I’m very aware that she’s teasing me. She could have easily gotten dressed in front of me.
Instead, we’re playing this peek-a-boo game. My cock is a lead fucking pipe behind the fly of my jeans.
“Tonight,” I start to tell her, “it’ll be the guys giving you shit for taming the president. They’ll also be trying to get me to react by saying bullshit about my balls or some other crap,” my tone is dismissive.
I don’t give a fuck what my brothers have to say. Not about this. Ezra is it for me. I’m sure of it now.
“I can handle that,” she assures me.
“I haven’t claimed you at the table.” Her movements from the other side of the bathroom still as I say the words. It’s like I can feel her holding her breath. “Just because I haven’t made it official in the eyes of the club doesn’t mean they don’t all know it’s going to happen.”
Her breath hitches and her fingers curl around the edge of the door. She grips it hard, her knuckles turning white.
“What did you just say?” The question comes out of her slightly ragged and breathless.
“That it’s going to happen? Me officially claiming you?”
I don’t bother trying to pretend like I don’t know what she’s asking. I’m not about to give her anything to latch onto to try to explain away what is between us. Not tonight. Not fucking ever.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “That.”
“I haven’t been hiding it, Teach,” I tease her.
She swings the door open and I freeze for about three seconds before I slide off the edge of the bed to my knees. One of her hands goes up to her mouth as she gasps in shock and her eyes widen and round. I barely register the expression because I’m too busy raking my eyes over her body.
The denim skirt she’s wearing has lace trim on it, but that’s not what makes my mouth go dry. It’s short. Shorter than I want it to be considering we’re about to head out to hang out with my brothers.
Fucking hell.
The shirt she has on is classic Ezra. There’s a drawing of an old plane with a one-star review for Wright Brothers Airlines underneath it.
The review reads: no peanuts, no wi-fi, just a man yelling ‘hold on’.
It’s perfect and makes me want to wrap her up and protect her from everything bad in the world.
Who the hell wears history puns on their shirts? My Ezra’s the only one I know.
She’s one of a kind and the fact that she’s still here with me, when she could have left with her father, still blows my mind. Does she even know how much of a renegade she is?
“What are you doing?” She gasps out the question while taking a step closer to me.
“Stay,” I bark.
Ezra freezes in place and I watch a myriad of expressions pass over her features. Confusion. Surprise. Shock. Irritation.
“I’m not a dog, Titus,” she admonishes me.
I can’t help but smile at her. It must be all teeth, a predator’s warning, because she goes stiller.
My eyes travel down her legs again and I use my gaze to trace over the black, leather high-heeled boots encasing them. The expanse of skin between the leather and lace looks like it’s begging for my lips.
Without giving a fuck about what I look like, I shuffle closer to her. She lets out a sound which is part surprise and part amusement.
“No,” I rumble, moving close enough to clamp my hands down on her hips and haul her the rest of the distance between us, “you’re not a dog. If anything, I’m your dog. I’ll be your shadow. Lay at your feet. Watch your back and always be on alert for anything that might be lurking in the darkness.”
My forehead presses against her belly and I take a deep breath. One day. Soon if I have anything to do with it.
Her hands slide over my head, the short hairs prickling under her touch. “What kind of dog would you be,” she muses.
“Something ferocious,” I mumble while using my nose to nudge under the edge of her shirt before kissing along the edge of the waistband of her skirt.
My fingertips slide up and down the outside of her thighs. When goosebumps cover her skin, my lips curl into a smirk.
“Teacup Poodle,” she groans.
I freeze and slowly pull back from her body. When I look up at her, she’s already grinning down at me with sparkling blue eyes.
I tighten my grip on her hips, a reminder of exactly who I am. By the way the mischievousness in her eyes only deepens, she’s not afraid of me.
Good.
She’s the last person who should ever fear me.
“Just for that I should keep you home and show you how wrong you are,” I warn her, dead fucking serious.
Her head tips back and her bright laughter fills the space around us. “You’re the one who said we were going tonight,” she points out, her words filled with a joy that warms my soul.
“I know,” I pout, “I changed my mind.”
“You can’t change your mind about this,” she coaxes me. “And, anyway, I want to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Fine,” I hold the word out, the sound more like a whine than a word.
“But you can definitely get on your knees for me later,” there’s a sultry note in her voice.
I get up slowly, our bodies pressed together until I’m looming above her. She smiles up at me like I’m the best thing she’s seen all day. The thought that it might be true for her hits me in the middle of my chest.
After grabbing her hand and lacing our fingers together, I lead us out of the house and toward the clubhouse. It’s not a long walk and the air has cooled just enough now that night has fallen. Being on the outskirts of Dogwood Ridge has its advantages.
We both look up at the stars twinkling above us and a soft smile lifts my woman’s lips. When I give her hand a squeeze, she gives it right back. It shouldn’t make a jolt of happiness go through me, but it does.
“Woah,” Ezra chuckles when we step inside the main room of the clubhouse.
It’s filled with people in a way she’s never seen before. Her wide blue eyes sweep over the space. When a slow smile grows on her lips, I know this is exactly where she’s supposed to be.
“And the night is still young,” I tell her. “Just wait.”
I can feel the eyes of everyone on us as we head to the bar. Bolt is behind the bar tonight with Omen at the gate. With the alcohol flowing and more people coming in and out of our gate, I’d rather have Omen out there as a line of defense rather than having him behind the bar.
Without needing to be told, Bolt puts a beer down in front of me and looks toward Ezra with a small smile. “What can I get you, Ms. Lyons?”