8. Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
ORA
War is still fast asleep when I wake in the morning. I take the opportunity to take him in—his handsome face looks relaxed for once. I kiss his chest, then trace the serpent wrapped around a skull over his heart—their club emblem. How the hell did I miss that on the first night we spent together?
I have a quick shower and throw on one of his T-shirts, along with my work pants from yesterday. I go commando since I don’t have any clean underwear. I retrace my steps down the staircase until I’m back at the bar. I need coffee before I rush home to get ready for work, so I go exploring, following voices until I find the kitchen.
Skull, Bones, and Lore are all standing there, mugs in hand. All of them are shirtless. I notice the twins don’t have any ink that I can see while Lore is covered.
“Good morning.” Bones grins, giving me a slow once-over.
“Coffee?”
The men laugh. Skull turns to the cupboard, reaching up to retrieve a mug, and it’s then I see that he does have a tattoo—a serpent on his very muscular back. He makes one for me, asking, “Do you want milk and sugar?”
“Yes, please. Two sugars.”
He hands it to me and asks, “Where’s War?”
“Still asleep,” I say, blowing on my coffee before taking a sip. “I didn’t want to wake him up, but I have to be at work in an hour. If I had more time, I could have made you all some breakfast.”
“Really?” Lore asks, perking up. “You’d cook for us, darlin’?”
He looks so hopeful that I laugh.
“Your women get down on their knees for you at your command, but not one of them will cook for you?” I ask, frowning. Everyone knows a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, although that’s not why I do it. I cook because I love it, but I know it’s not for everyone.
Lore makes a choking sound before it turns into laughter. “No, they are known for satisfying in the bedroom, not the kitchen.”
Skull mutters something about not being about to turn a hoe into a housewife, and I narrow my eyes at him. “I think that says more about who you all spend your time with than it does them.”
“Can you make us something?” Lore asks, his violet eyes pleading.
“Okay, sure,” I reply, shrugging. I don’t want to leave them all hungry. “Shame you can’t survive on pussy, hey?”
Their laughter is so loud that it makes me jump.
“I might have time to quickly whip something up. What do we have?” I mutter to myself, ignoring their amusement.
I work my way around the kitchen while they all take a seat, patiently watching me. I end up making a big batch of chili scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages with toast. I serve a plate for War first, then place the rest on the table for them to dig in. They all thank me multiple times and eat like they don’t know when they will get their next meal. I’m not going to lie—it makes me happy. I like cooking and baking for others, especially when they enjoy my food so much.
“I would have made some waffles or pancakes, too,” I murmur, wishing I had woken up earlier.
“Are you kidding me? This is incredible.” Skull moans around a mouthful.
“You’re the best, Ora,” Bones adds.
“Yeah, if War doesn’t make you his old lady soon, I’m going to,” Lore announces, just as War enters the kitchen. He’s also shirtless, showing off his thirst-trap worthy body, a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants on his hips. I can literally see the outline of his cock, and suddenly I don’t like him wearing them around a clubhouse of sexy women who would all happily jump in his bed.
War eyes his men, the food, then looks back at me. “What the fuck?”
“What?” I ask, frowning.
“You cooked for them? Did you fuckers even leave any food for me?”
“VP—”
“Don’t,” War growls out. His hands clench to fists, and he looks like he wants to take out all three of them. “I haven’t even tasted what she’s made yet, and you assholes are all here eating her food!”
The vein in his neck pulses.
I turn behind me and pick up his plate. “War, I served you a plate first.”
Dark eyes soften, and the tension drains out of him. I place the full plate down at an empty seat, and he sits, pulling me onto his lap. He plants a soft kiss on my lips. I don’t miss just how much he gentles his voice when he speaks to me versus when he speaks to his club brothers. “Did you eat, baby? I want you to look after yourself first.”
“I ate a little while I was making it, but I usually don’t eat this early,” I admit, running my hands through his thick head of hair. With me sitting astride him, he picks up his fork with some eggs on it and offers it to me. I take a small bite, then smile at him. He’s fucking cute.
“You eat, babe. I need to get home and get ready for work. My car is still there.”
“I’ll take you,” War says, chewing and swallowing. “These eggs are amazing.”
“Seriously, the best I’ve ever had,” Lore adds, scraping the last bit from his plate.
“Can you move in here?” Bones asks, just as two men step into the room.
The last two men I want to see.
Ghost and my father, Rome.
My mother never spoke about him when I was growing up. But one day, when I was in the second grade, I remember asking her why I didn’t have a father to attend events when the other kids did.
She told me my daddy wasn’t ready to be one.
Is he ready now?
My heart starts to race.
“Prez, this is Ora. Ora, this is our president, Rome,” War quickly introduces, then scowls in Ghost’s direction. Ghost, who has a black eye and a cut lip, shows no emotion. “And you know Ghost.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say to Rome, forcing a smile. For a moment, I wonder what it would be like if he knew I was his daughter. Would he want to get to know me? Would he try and make up for lost time? Or would he be angry and deny that he ever knocked anyone up? I hate that a small part of me is still that little girl just waiting for him to show up.
I completely ignore Ghost.
I have nothing to say to that asshole.
Rome stares down at me with familiar blue eyes, his brow furrowing. “Ora, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
And I’ve found out everything I can about you.
“All good things, I hope.” I grin.
Rome’s lip twitches, but he doesn’t comment further. “We have Church in an hour.”
War nods, swallowing his bite. “I’ll drop Ora at work and be right back.”
Rome keeps looking at me, almost as if he’s trying to place me. I look just like my mom. Does he remember her? Or have there been so many women since then that they all blur together?
I avoid his eyes.
I used to like to watch him from afar, but now that he’s right in front of me, I have the urge to escape.
The truth is that sometimes blood doesn’t matter.
It’s not always thicker than water.
Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything.