Where We Promise: A Fake Marriage Romance (Stone Riders MC Book 3)

1. Penelope

ONE

The silence was unnerving.

It was something I’d have to get used to, especially now that I was out here…alone.

My eyes bounced around the room as I lay awake in bed, my fingers clutching the thick blankets, dragging them to my chin. The room was cozy, with a long dresser against the far wall, a modest flat screen perched on top, and a tiny bathroom enclosed off to the side.

The log cabin made me feel somewhat secure, like someone wouldn’t be able to just punch through the walls, or kick their way inside.

But it was small, and there were several windows, and I didn’t know this town, or the place I’d been brought well enough to let my guard down.

My phone chimed from the side table where it was plugged into the charger. I leaned over and pulled it free.

Jamie: Why is your light still on?

I stared at the text, annoyed that we were doing this again. He was watching, as usual. It’d been like this since we arrived two weeks ago, and as much as I should want to shed his overprotective presence, I wouldn’t. Which was why I felt annoyed. I was weak, and I hated that he continued to notice it.

I punched out a reply.

Me: Can’t sleep…why are you watching the cabin?

I already knew why, but I liked to pretend that I didn’t need him, or relied on his constant check-ins.

My mind threw up my new situation for the thousandth time, as if I could discover a way out of this reality. But, no, there was no way around the truth. I was currently staying in a random cabin on rival club property.

The Stone Riders clubhouse was just about half a mile north of the cabin, and to the south was a two-story house that currently maintained Jameson, and the remaining faithful men of his club, the Chaos Kings.

Luke, the asshole, had aligned himself with a man recently released from prison, Jefferson Quinn. The madman wanted to claim the very club I was now living with. They made quite a pair: Luke wanted the Chaos Kings, and Jefferson wanted to take the Stone Riders from his son, Killian Quinn. So, Jameson came here with the remaining loyal men…and me.

Anger barreled into me once more as I remembered what Luke had done. My hand went to my swollen stomach protectively as my mind threw back the memory of when I discovered I was pregnant. I stupidly assumed Luke would be happy. I had baked a cake…I bought a onesie that had a motorcycle on it with the words, “daddy has a new rider,” across it.

Gene had helped me prep everything, and my mom had found the person on Etsy to make the custom shirt. We were all so excited…

Then everything changed. In a single moment, my entire life shifted, and it was like I couldn’t get my feet under me no matter what I did. Seven months, and I was still tripping over the changes forced upon me.

At least I got out in time. Before the baby got here, before Luke could reject our son in person, or worse…hurt him.

The sound of my phone chiming had the thoughts of the past dissipating like smoke.

Jamie: You know why

Familiar rage coursed through me, forcing bitter emotion to clog my throat and tears to burn behind my eyes. I did not want to rely on Jameson King. Of all the people in the world, he was the last man I wanted catering to me simply because he felt obligated to do so.

It was bad enough he rejected me in his own way, but now he was worried about me, but not for any other reason than the promise he made to a dying woman.

Jamie: Pen, you need to sleep. You’ve done this the last few nights in a row. It’s nearly two in the morning.

I knew he was right, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to turn off the light. I didn’t feel safe enough to plunge the room into darkness. Regardless that he wasn’t even a mile away from me and could apparently see my window.

I tried to reassure myself that the property was gated, guarded and we were safe. But I didn’t know the Stone Riders, and while Jamie assured me their members would never harm me, I still felt nervous. The club was under new leadership from what I understood. Simon Stone had initially led it for years and years, but he’d passed three or four months ago and now Killian Quinn was the president. That could change things in a club, create havoc. It wasn’t any better than the Chaos Kings that followed Jamie here. While they were loyal to him, they weren’t to me.

Staring up at the ceiling, I ignored Jamie’s texts for countless minutes, counting off facts.

I was twenty-five, jobless, single, pregnant, and technically homeless.

My eyes were dry, irritated but refused to close. I knew it wasn’t good for the baby for me to miss so many nights of sleep…I understood this, and yet I felt like I was protecting him by staying awake.

Another text chimed next to my head, where I’d placed the phone.

Jamie: I’m at your door.

My chest pinched at the fact that he knew knocking would have sent me into a panic attack. I slowly slid out of bed and padded out of the room. The cabin was so small that the room exited into a small dining area, which was connected to the front entry.

Sliding the deadbolt to the right, and then unhooking the chain, I turned the knob and pulled.

Jamie gently pushed his way in from the midnight air, not waiting for an invitation. Which I preferred because I wouldn’t give him one.

He locked the door behind him as he cleared the entry and slid out of his boots.

I regarded him sleepily, while also keenly aware of every single inch of him.

Jameson King was handsome when cleaned up, but dressed down, wearing a black hoodie, a pair of gray sweatpants and his unlaced motorcycle boots—as though he’d just slipped out of bed—was devastating.

I turned away from him, anchoring my arms over my chest.

“What are you doing here?”

He moved toward the small living room where a salmon-colored two-seater couch faced the wood stove. I realized too late that I had already turned toward him again, like he was the sun and I was a sunflower searching for heat.

“You can’t sleep because you don’t feel safe. I’m here now, you’re safe. Go to sleep.”

His wheat-colored hair was disheveled, his firm jaw, covered in at least a week’s worth of growth and his warm brown eyes were avoiding me.

“Jamie.” I couldn’t let him sleep on the couch.

He’d already done too much for me.

He’d protected me against the club…he’d shielded me from Luke. He’d given me a place to live and made sure I was safe.

But he’d also broken my heart.

Ignoring me, he lay down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Go to sleep, Pen.”

Emotion clogged my throat. I wanted to believe him, but there was a window in my room, and now that he was here, all I wanted was to curl into a ball in front of him on the floor. I trusted him to keep me safe, but he was out here, not in the room where someone could climb through the window.

He closed his eyes, allowing me to watch as he managed to fit his tall stature onto the tiny two-seater couch that looked horribly uncomfortable.

So instead of arguing with him or telling him that I still wouldn’t sleep, I did as he said, keeping my door propped open, and turned off the lamp.

Then I crawled into bed and placed my palms over my round stomach.

It would be okay.

It would be okay.

I repeated the words in my head, tears stung my eyes and with a shaky breath, I tried to calm my racing heart.

I couldn’t do this every night, not to Jamie and not to my baby.

If this was to be the only way I remained safe from Luke, or his new plans, then I would need to get used to the dark.

I’d just have to take it one night at a time.

The sun bled in through the window along the east wall and parts of the skylight. It bathed the cabin in gold, highlighting the brown logs that made up the walls and the wood running along the floors.

Shuffling into the kitchen, I turned on the coffee pot then turned to face the giant sleeping on my couch. Jameson, being the president of the Chaos Kings, meant he was usually on guard. His face usually held a severe edge to it, his eyes always looked like melted molasses.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him smile or laugh.

But now, sleeping on the couch, his face was relaxed, his lips were slightly parted, and his thick gold lashes dusted the tops of his tan face. He was beautiful, and if I were the type of person who created art, I’d paint him. As it was, I itched to grab my camera to capture him like this. So only I would know how the great leader of the Chaos Kings looked with his guard down.

I savored the fact that he trusted me enough to let it down at all.

“You’re staring.” His foot lightly connected with my leg in a playful way.

Stepping back, I smiled down at him as he blinked and then stretched.

My eyes tracked the way his sweatshirt lifted, revealing intricate abs, defined and packed on top of one another, outlining him in a way that proved his dedication in the gym.

I remembered what they felt like under my touch.

“Just wanted to see if you were still alive after being stuffed onto the couch last night.”

His groan sent a trail of goosebumps down my spine as I turned away from him and stopped at the counter. Reaching for a mug, I poured us each coffee.

“You feel better today?” His fingers dug into his hair, trying to adjust the misplaced pieces.

It made me smile, as a flutter began in my stomach.

My hand dropped to my belly on instinct. Crap.

“You forgot about the caffeine thing again?” Jamie laughed, reaching around me to grab his mug.

I watched longingly as he took a generous sip.

“I can have one cup, I’m pretty sure.”

His smirk stretched into something I would almost call a smile.

“But you won’t because you’re so obsessed with doing everything by the book.”

He knew me too well.

“Why don’t we head to the main clubhouse, I know they make a big breakfast up there.”

He meant the Stone Riders. Which was odd because his club was in the other direction back at the house.

“No breakfast over with the Chaos Kings?” I raised a brow, needing him to explain why he seemed so comfortable with just heading over to our rival club for a meal.

He shrugged. “No one cooks. Over at Stone Riders, they have a few people who prep meals.”

Just like we’d had when our club was whole. I missed Gene…and my mom.

A chasm had opened at the reminder of her. The facts that now outlined my life as cold pieces of data. Regardless of how often I tried to convince myself it was fiction, or that my mom wasn’t dead, the facts said otherwise.

Still, I liked to pretend that she was alive, and just back home with Miles, waiting for me to come back. She’d be sitting on the porch, smiling and waving at me just like she always did, every single day when I’d walk home from school.

My mother had passed only four months ago, and the doctor worried I might miscarry because the grief was so acute. It was too much, paired with the bullshit from Luke and the club. I knew deep down her passing was the reason Jamie was standing here in front of me.

Promise me, Jameson. You’ll take care of her, keep her safe. Promise me.

I owed him everything.

I could tell he wanted to go up to the main house, and I also knew he was desperate for me to start feeling at ease around the grounds, and hopefully safe enough to sleep at night.

“Can I go like this, or should I change?” I opened my arms and looked down. I had on gray sweats and an oversized t-shirt…thinking about it, it may have belonged to Luke.

I saw the smallest flash in Jameson’s gaze as his eyes trailed my frame.

Things between us were platonic.

Another fact that I had to accept.

“You’re fine, let’s just throw on our shoes and walk over. Fresh air will be good for both of us.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. I grabbed my boots and a sweater, following him out of the house.

The sun was even more magnificent out here, flowing in through the valley like a broken bottle of gold dust.

Dead weeds crunched under our feet as we walked through the glade leading up to the Stone Riders clubhouse. From behind, the club was intimidating.

Two or three stories with large windows, a wraparound porch, and a townhouse off to the side. The siding was fresh, the windows looked new, and the yard was pristine.

It looked more like a fashionable Airbnb, instead of a motorcycle club.

“Killian told me this usually remains locked until a certain time of day, but he gave me the code.”

Jamie softly spoke as he moved ahead of me to what was clearly the back of the clubhouse, and the entry point. This was the third door I’d seen with a keypad attached…seemed like they took their security seriously.

He tried it first, but when it didn’t give, he pressed in a series of numbers until it opened.

“Want the code? Just in case you ever need to head over here?”

I shook my head at his question because there was no world in which I saw myself comfortable enough to ever venture into this club on my own.

The hall we’d entered was dim, but it quickly led toward a long bar that made up most of the greater room. Behind the bar there were sounds of people moving, pans clanking, and the smell of bacon permeating the air.

A woman with white hair and a bandana holding her long locks up faced the bar, while she set steaming loaves of baked bread out.

“Good morning!” she called, smiling as we approached.

I instantly relaxed at her generous smile and easy demeanor. She was so different than our kitchen manager, Gene, from back home.

Gene was mean, and often cruel. But I loved her just the same, especially after she cared for my mother in hospice.

This woman looked like she was a grandmother, soft and sweet, but hard enough to survive this life.

“Good morning,” I offered, sliding onto a barstool.

“Would you two like some breakfast, we have a few others coming in to eat.”

I turned my face toward Jameson to make sure he was okay with eating with other members. He smiled at the woman while sliding onto his own stool. “That would be great.”

Her warm gaze landed on me again. “I’m Red. You need anything at all out there at that cabin, I’ll be sure you get it.” She winked, and I dipped my head in silent thanks.

Jameson’s knee knocked into mine and I knocked mine into his. It was our silent way of speaking. He was telling me to relax. I was telling him to fuck off.

“Hey!” a sweet voice greeted us as a familiar woman came out from the kitchen. She’d introduced herself to me when I arrived, but I hadn’t been brave enough to seek her out again.

I went to smile, but her friendly gaze landed on Jameson who was beaming up at her.

“Natty, hey.”

She set a plate of scones in front of him. “Don’t tell anyone else, but I saved these for you.”

I looked between them, wondering at their familiarity, and hating how my stomach dipped with fear and something else I had no business feeling.

Natty was gorgeous, but she also had an unruliness to her that reminded me of a wildflower. She was free and seemed to completely understand exactly who she was without fearing it. I tried not to focus on her wide smile, or her honey-colored hair that hung in long curls down her chest. Jameson wasn’t focusing on anything but her face, and then the scones she’d placed in front of him.

“Can’t believe you got me into eating them.”

“She got you too?” a new voice echoed next to Jameson.

I looked over and saw Killian pull out a barstool, followed by Laura, his girlfriend.

Laura peered down the length of the bar and spotted me. Her huge smile nearly knocked the wind out of me. She’d come by the cabin a few times since I arrived, and while each time was brief it had created enough of a connection for me to feel comfortable around her.

Seconds later, Laura’s blonde hair swayed as she sidled up next to me by pulling out a stool.

“How did you sleep?”

Her blue eyes were bright and excited as she flicked them from me to the man sitting next to me. As if she knew he’d been sleeping on my couch.

I ducked my face to hide the sudden blush from how embarrassed I felt. I should be over these fucking triggers and issues by now.

“Fine.”

“Hungry?” Red appeared with another warm smile. She set a plate packed full of bacon, eggs, and fruit in front of me.

Natty sweetly added one of her scones to my plate with a happy grin.

“This will add a little sweetness to it.”

“Thank you.”

I picked at my plate of food while everyone around me fell into easy conversation. Even Jamie seemed to laugh along with them, and it made me wonder how well acquainted he was with this group. He acted as though he’d been around them for years, but I had been around him that long so I knew that wasn’t possible.

It wasn’t until I heard Killian mention something about a perimeter alert last night that my head lifted.

Jameson seemed to notice my apprehension. His face was turned toward Killian, but his hand came out and rested on my thigh with a slight squeeze. I wanted to pull his hand into mine, just so I had something to ground me. As it was, I let his hand linger on me while I listened to what I could. Killian’s voice kept dipping, so I missed every other word.

“Alarm went off around three in the morning,” Laura leaned over, whispering in my ear. “It wasn’t back by the Chaos Kings, it was farther west. The trail cams picked up a coyote, nothing to worry about.”

I let out a sigh of relief and turned toward her to mouth. “Thank you.”

She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly before jumping up and rounding the barstool.

“Pen, do you want to come check out the kitchen with me?”

I hesitated for a second, and the conversation between Jamie and Killian paused. I knew Jameson wanted to be sure I was okay, but I hated that I was forcing him to coddle me, so I stood to my feet without waiting for him to talk to me.

“Sure, I’d love to.”

We rounded the bar, and slits of sunlight cut through the space from a window above the farmhouse-style sink.

It was wide and deep, almost industrial-sized.

There were butcher block counters that framed the large space, and in the middle a long, thick counter also topped with the thick butcher block. On it was dough being rolled out, Natty smiling up from kneading it.

At least a dozen or so loaves of freshly baked bread sat on the other end. The space was clean, organized and lacked any clutter.

“Here is the pantry. If you ever run out of anything at the cabin, you can come here and restock,” Laura said, guiding me to a smaller alcove. The shelves were lined with bulk items: peanut butter, canned tomatoes, beans, salsa, bags of chips, and baking ingredients.

“There’s no washer or dryer out at the cabin. I can show you an easy spot to slide in unnoticed to do your clothes while you’re here.” Laura walked farther into the kitchen, where a small room hid behind a set of gliding doors.

A simple top loading washer and dryer sat, next to a large sink.

“This door has a code I can give you. Only Red, Killian and I have the code, so it won’t be used hardly ever, if at all. Most of the club uses the washer and dryers designated to the floor they’re on. There’s one in the basement, and then another set over in the bunk houses—so really, this one is all yours if you want it. We use it from time to time for dirty rags.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say. The kindness she was offering was so foreign to what I had become accustomed to with the Chaos Kings.

Laura didn’t seem to notice my reluctance; she just pulled out her cell phone.

“You have your phone on you? I can text you the code.”

I didn’t have it on me; I had left it at the cabin. I was about to shake my head when she waved me off.

“I have your number from the last time I was there. I’ll just text it to you.”

We turned once more, but this time, I stopped at the sight of Jameson leaning against the frame of the door, watching me.

“You ready to head back?”

I nodded, touching my stomach. Jameson’s gaze dropped with my movement, his face quickly twisting into concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. I just feel a lot of kicking sensations lately. Just messes with me a bit.”

He took my hand in his, and I tried to ignore how warm it was, and how good it felt to have him anchor me in a time when everything felt like it was shifting. I thanked Laura for the tour and swiftly followed Jameson through the back.

A sigh of relief was caught in my lungs, and it remained trapped there as we descended the steps to the back of the clubhouse, only to come face to face with a few of the remaining Chaos Kings.

“Hey Prez, you already eat?” Bones, one of the members who had an unkept beard and a dangerous obsession with knives, called out to Jameson.

I didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to where my hand was joined with their leader’s, or the way the members glared in disapproval.

I knew what this looked like.

They likely thought Jamie and I were fucking, and that I was just member hopping, as if I hadn’t been loyal to Luke.

I wasn’t the one screwing other people in front of him after he’d rejected me and the baby. I wasn’t the one out there getting drunk and hitting up strip clubs. That was never me, and yet the club acted as though I were nothing but a Sweetbutt, looking for club cock to suck.

I tried to let Jamie’s hand go, but his grip only tightened around mine, which meant he’d also noticed the way his men were watching me.

“They’re about to finish up, but head on in and see what might be left. Going forward, we need to start cooking out at the spot they gave us. Don’t want them thinking we’re just taking their spots, and all their food.”

Bones glanced over to another member, Kizer, and the two seemed to share a knowing look.

“The two of you are welcome to go in though, right?” Kizer asked, lifting his chin in my direction.

“Yep,” Jamie replied, pushing past them.

I walked with him, although having the Chaos Kings at my back wasn’t the best feeling in the world. But these ones were loyal to Jameson. Not me…but that didn’t matter.

Not when this was just temporary, and me being a burden to Jameson King was a phase.

One I’d pass through quickly.