Chapter 8 #2
I needed to change the subject before they got worse.
It was easy to see these two played off each other.
It was just as obvious that they were close.
Despite Hellfire’s comments, Smokehouse was relaxed.
He’d mostly been joking about the ogling.
After seeing the way he’d reacted to Eli, I knew he’d be tense and pissed off if they weren’t friends.
Hellfire coughed, trying to conceal a laugh. “That’s my cue to help the others.” He left quickly.
Smoke just shook his head. “I’ll tell you about that later.”
“You’re in the Army?” I asked, desperately curious about the man I’d found myself attached to. I didn’t mind that he’d sidestepped my question.
“I was. Didn’t stick.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t hang around so I could ask.
He turned and walked out the front door, leaving it open.
A few minutes later, I saw why. The men from downstairs were carrying things in, like a line of ants, and dropping them off inside our new apartment.
They left a couch, soft recliner chairs, boxes full of dishes, and pretty much everything else we’d need to live in here.
“Sorry it wasn’t ready ahead of time,” Priest said, walking in through the door. It was easy to remember him because his girls had left an impression. “I only had time to get the beds and dressers in. This should be everything you need, though.”
“We appreciate it, Priest,” Smoke told him, as he entered behind the other man. “It won’t be a problem to unpack everything. Just the fact that you had it all here within thirty minutes was damn impressive.”
“Already had it on order. I was just waiting for a few more things to come in for the other empty apartments before I had it all delivered. Since you needed it now, I just had them bring enough over for your new place.”
I sucked in a breath as they moved out of the way and Hellfire and Hush moved in a refrigerator.
They had it lifted completely off the ground.
My eyes widened at the effortless show of strength.
Keely and I had to move her washing machine a week after I’d come to live with her and we’d ended up in a gasping, heaving heap of limbs on the floor afterward. And we’d only scooted it.
“Let’s grab the rest of the stuff,” Smoke suggested.
I sat down on one of the recliners that was facing the door and watched as they continued bringing in things like a flatscreen TV, a washer and dryer, and a kitchen table.
Despite all the muscles being flexed, I only found myself drooling as I watched Smoke bring in the washing machine.
Of course Butcher was helping him, but I couldn't keep my eyes from roaming all over Smoke as he muscled the machine in through the door.
“That everything?” Toxic asked as six men stood around inside our new apartment, surveying it.
“That’s it,” Priest confirmed.
“Do you want anything moved?” Smokehouse asked, his eyes landing on me. All of them looked my way.
“Oh. No. It’s fine how it is,” I assured them, rubbing my arm with my hand. I was only used to being the center of attention for eight-year-olds. Men never paid attention to me, that I noticed anyway, let alone a group of men like this.
Smokehouse and the others exchanged fist bumps and they turned as one unit to leave.
“Thank you all so much.”
They all paused and looked over brawny shoulders.
The smiles that were tossed my way might have short circuited most women’s brains.
Mine might have if I wasn’t already over the moon for the tattooed, handsome, man, who was now standing next to my chair.
It didn’t seem to matter that I hardly knew him.
My heart was set on being his. I only hoped he wouldn’t shred the precious organ when I offered it to him.
“Anytime, Sweetheart,” Hush told me. “If you need anythin’, one of us is always around if Smokehouse isn’t. You come find us.”
“Thank you,” I said again, softer this time. I’d been here for only a few hours and already this group of men and their women had made me feel more welcome and cared for than I had in my own home over the length of my marriage. How had I not realized how bad it had gotten?
Of course Eli hadn’t started out as a complete jerk.
He’d been sweet and attentive. He’d confessed his love for me loudly and repeatedly until I’d had stars in my eyes.
Things had been fine for over a year. Then they’d started changing slowly enough that I hadn’t noticed what was happening. I’d been sucked in.
As if the men helping wasn’t enough, four little faces appeared, peering around the open door. All stacked on top of one another like a Scooby Doo cartoon. Gabby stepped forward, clearly the designated spokesperson. She had a piece of paper in her hand and a stuffed otter under her arm.
“We made this for you. Welcome to our family.”
With a lump in my throat, I took the paper. It was a crayon drawing of the family. A very large family. Even though they were mostly stick figures it was easy to tell the oversized muscles for the bikers and the different women, by height and hair color.
“Here’s us and Daddy and Jenny, there’s Butcher and Toxic, and here’s you and Smokehouse,” one of the other little girls said—if I remembered correctly, her name was Taylor—pointing out each couple.