Chapter Thirteen
Josie
The closer we got to the clubhouse, the tighter I held Rome’s hand. I just suddenly felt very aware that I was walking into a world I knew nothing about.
People milled around everywhere. Motorcycles lined the front of the long brick building, chrome gleaming beneath floodlights. Music spilled out every time the front door opened, mixing with laughter and the smell of beer, smoke, and grilled meat from somewhere out back.
There were men everywhere. Big men. Tattooed men. Men in leather cuts and worn jeans and boots that looked like they’d seen a hundred bar fights.
And somehow, not one of them felt like Rome.
I couldn’t explain it.
If I’d driven past this place a month ago, I probably would’ve locked my car doors and kept going. Now, standing beside Rome with his fingers laced through mine, I felt safe.
I had from the beginning.
From the first time he sat in Scoop & Swirl, eating ice cream and pretending he hated it.
From the moment he held my wrist and asked if I trusted him.
I did. I still couldn’t figure out why, but I did.
That didn’t stop me from noticing all the eyes on me, though, because people were definitely looking.
I tried not to pay attention and notice the women sizing me up or the men glancing our way, then doing a double take when they saw Rome holding my hand.
Still, I noticed.
I’d spent most of my marriage trying not to take up too much space. Tonight there was no hiding.
Rome squeezed my hand gently. “You okay?”
I looked up at him. “Yeah.” That was a lie.
He could tell. His thumb brushed the back of my hand. “You stay with me.”
“I was planning on it.” He would have to pry my cold, dead hand from his before I let go.
“Good.”
And just like that, my shoulders relaxed.
The second we walked inside, Rome was greeted from everywhere.
Not politely.
Not casually.
Rome barely made it two steps before we were getting shouted at.
“Rome!” A burly guy with a shaved head slapped him on the shoulder. “Thought you forgot where we lived.”
Rome smirked. “I tried.”
The guy barked out a laugh, then his eyes landed on me. His grin got wider. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Rome rolled his eyes. “This is Josie. She owns the shop across the street from Bad Habit.”
The guy held out his hand. “Cash.”
I shook it. “Josie.”
“You own that ice cream place?”
I blinked. “You know Scoop & Swirl?”
Cash looked offended. “Know it?” He pointed at his stomach. “My daughter has brought me a banana split three times this past week.”
I laughed and snapped my fingers at him. “Your daughter has blonde hair, and always gets a banana split and a two-scoop of cookie dough. I did wonder how she ate both of those without getting a stomachache.”
Cash rubbed his stomach. “That banana split has my name all over it.” He winked. “Hell, I could go for one right now.”
I looked at Rome. “Not as bad as Rome. Five days in a row, he’s ordering a double chocolate fudge.”
Rome held up his hand. “The shit is good, brother. She knows what she is doing.”
A warm feeling spread through me.
Rome looked smug, as if my successful business reflected well on him. I liked how he was proud of me.
We moved deeper into the clubhouse, and Rome introduced me to a handful of people.
Mack.
Trigger.
Lucky.
I immediately forgot half their names because there were so many people and everyone seemed to know Rome. Like, really know him. They hugged him, gave him shit, asked him where he’d been, and through all of it, he never let go of my hand.
I appreciated that more than I expected.
Because even though he was with me, I still felt a little like an afterthought. Not because Rome made me feel that way, just this was his world, and I was trying to catch up.
Another guy walked over who was tall with a dark beard, and patch on his cut that said Vice President.
“Rome.”
“Skid.”
They did one of those guy handshakes that somehow involved slapping palms and punching shoulders.
Skid looked at me. “You’re Josie.”
I blinked. “How do you know my name?”
Rome groaned.
Skid grinned. “Cash has a bigger mouth than his appetite for banana splits.”
“You got this asshole eating ice cream every day,” Skid teased.
My mouth dropped open.
Rome pointed at him. “Cash needs to learn when to shut his mouth.”
I laughed and bumped into Rome. “You’re going to get a reputation.”
Rome muttered something under his breath, but leaned in to press a kiss to the side of my head. “I accept that.” He threw a wink at me, and my heart did a flip.
The two of them started talking about a tattoo Skid wanted. A memorial piece for his dad with a cross and an eagle.
I let the conversation fade into the background, and instead, I looked around. The clubhouse was exactly what I’d imagined. If Sons of Anarchy had been filmed by people who liked grime more than glamour. Pool tables filled one side of the room and a huge bar stretched along the back wall.
The dance floor was crowded while music blasted from speakers mounted in the corners. Beer bottles clinked as people shouted over one another.
It was loud.
Chaotic. And somehow I was having fun.
That’s when I saw her. She walked toward us like she owned the place in short shorts, a white tank top with no bra, and the kind of confidence I had spent my whole life pretending not to envy.
She was gorgeous, and she knew it.
For a second, I wished I looked like her. Not because I wanted to be her, but because I wanted to walk through life with that kind of certainty.
She reached Rome and put her hand on his arm like I wasn’t standing there.
Jealousy punched me in the stomach so fast it stole my breath.
Excuse me? I was literally holding his hand.
The woman smiled up at him. “Been awhile.”
Rome barely reacted, just gave her a chin nod. “Brandi.”
Her smile faltered. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you outside the tattoo shop.”
“Been busy.” The words were flat.
Brandi leaned closer. “Maybe you should get back to warming my bed.”
I choked on absolutely nothing.
Skid barked out a laugh, then shook his head. “Get a fucking clue, Brandi.” He nodded toward me. “He’s here with someone.”
Brandi finally looked at me. Really looked at me, and her lip curled. “Her?”
The word hit harder than it should have.
Rome didn’t hesitate. He pulled me into his side and his arm wrapped around my waist. “Yeah.” His voice was calm. “Josie has been keeping me busy.” His fingers squeezed my hip. “I don’t have time for anyone else.”
My brain stopped.
Brandi scoffed. “Yeah, sure.” But there was something ugly in her eyes now.
She rolled those eyes at me, then sauntered off. I watched her go and didn’t miss the glare she threw over her shoulder.
Fantastic.
Skid sighed. “That chick’s off her rocker.”
Rome grunted. “Always has been.”
“She’ll find some other bed to crawl into.”
Skid slapped Rome on the shoulder. “I’m gonna grab another beer.” He winked at me. “Good luck with this one.” Then disappeared.
I waited for Rome to step away, but he didn’t. His arm stayed around me like it belonged there.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. I didn’t even believe that, though. Brandi was gorgeous and confident. The exact opposite of me.
Rome tilted his head. “Josie.”
“I’m fine.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
He sighed softly, then tilted my chin up. “Look at me, baby.”
I did, immediately, because apparently the word baby turned my brain to mush.
“Don’t think about that chick for another second.”
It was like he’d reached into my head.
I blinked. “I’m not.” Another lie.
His mouth twitched. “Terrible liar.” He leaned down and kissed me.
Quick. Soft. But enough to make me forget where we were for a second.
When he pulled back, his forehead touched mine. “You’re a million fucking times better than her, baby.”
My breath caught.
“A million fucking times.”
I stared at him, because... I believed him.
Or at least I wanted to.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Now let’s have some fun.” Rome got me a drink. Then another.
Not enough to make me drunk, but just enough to take the edge off.
We stood at the bar talking about nothing and about everything.
People kept stopping by, and it seemed like every single person knew him. And every single time, Rome introduced me.
Not awkwardly.
Not like an obligation.
Like he was proud to. “This is Josie.” Over and over. The words settled something inside me, because he could’ve come alone or could’ve let me drift beside him. Instead, he kept making room for me.
Then Bon Jovi started playing. I couldn’t not sway back and forth. It was Bon freaking Jovi.
Rome grinned. “You wanna dance?” Before I could argue and tell him I was just fine right here, he took my hand and dragged me toward the dance floor.
“I don’t dance,” I shouted.
“Liar.”
I didn’t dance because I had the rhythm of a nun in church. No one here needed to see that.
I groaned, but I went because it was Rome. And because when he pulled me into his arms, everything else faded.
Bed of Roses by Bon Jovi pumped through the speakers as my arms slid around his neck, and his settled around my waist.
Everything disappeared, and it was just Rome and the gravel in his voice as he sang a few lines under his breath, terribly and completely off-key.
I rested my cheek against his chest and his heart beat steadily beneath my ear.
His chin brushed the top of my head, and for the first time in a really long time, I stopped worrying.
Stopped comparing myself and stopped wondering if I was enough.
In the middle of this sea of people, Rome had picked me.
The song ended, leading into Welcome to the Jungle, but Rome and I stayed swaying together.
Rome looked down at me, and a slow smile spread across his face. “This is the only time I wish I were part of the club.”
I blinked. “Why?”
His gaze darkened. “So I could take you to one of those rooms down the hallway.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I laughed. “I think we’re having a good time right here.” I leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Though some privacy would be nice.”
He groaned and wrapped me tight in his arms. “You keep doing that, and we’re leaving.”
“You threatening me?”
He leaned down, and his lips brushed my ear. “That’s a promise, babe.”