8. Penelope
EIGHT
Jamie was acting weird.
He walked me inside, and now he was making dinner. I was inclined to let him, mostly because I was hungry and having an appetite was good for a change. Especially after what Dr. Beckett had said about my low weight gain.
My feet were propped up on the couch, crossed at the ankle as I watched Jamie move around the modest kitchen.
“Jamie, you know I can make my own dinner, right?”
His brown eyes lifted for a moment, landing on me and then drifting back to the counter. I always felt so cold in the wake of his gaze leaving me. It was like having a cloud move in when you’ve been craving the sun.
With a grunt, he plated the chicken and veggies and walked over to the couch. He placed the plate gently in my hands. I often used my stomach as a table of sorts, and tonight would be no different.
Jamie nudged my feet. “Let me sit here, you can tuck your feet under my legs.”
I did as he said, lifting them for him, and then tucking them under his thigh, relishing how warm they became.
I bit into the food, savoring how warm and perfectly seasoned it was.
“This is good.” I swallowed and went for another bite, when he suddenly paused and turned to look at me.
“I have an idea I need to run by you.”
My fork speared another potato as sunlight streamed in through the windows. It was December, but you wouldn’t know it by how warm the sun felt against my face.
“Okay,” I replied around another bite of food.
I was suddenly ravenous as if the past eight months I’d been skimping on meals and my body finally woke up and realized it.
“Is there more of this?” I held out my plate to him.
He handed me his. “Finish mine, I’m not really hungry.”
I smirked at him as I took his plate and began digging in. “Must be a big thing you have to run by me.”
I was blissfully taking more bites when suddenly Jameson turned and leveled me with that chocolate stare.
“I think we should get married.”
My fork stalled halfway to my mouth. If I were drinking anything, I would have spit it out.
“What?”
Jameson’s gaze flickered the smallest bit, revealing his uncertainty.
“The club isn’t respecting you…today was too close of a call. I can’t just hand you a patch and assume they’ll respect it. I need to do something more permanent. They need to know you’ll have my protection long term.”
Slow and tenuous emotions swept through me like a shockwave.
“So you want to—what, marry on paper? And assume it will force the club to be civil with me?”
He flinched. “They’d have to believe it.”
“But it’d be fake.” I needed to clarify.
His steady gaze revealed nothing as he nodded. “Behind closed doors, but in public, you’d be mine.”
Our eyes met, and I let the last part of his sentence soak into my chest as if the words were golden rays of sunshine.
You’d be mine.
The only thing I had ever really wanted, but it would be fake.
I handed him the plate. His eyes held worry as he inspected how much food was left untouched.
“Jameson, I can just leave…I think if I go to the West Coast, Luke won’t find me. Besides, I think his focus is on the club, not me.”
I watched as his jaw tensed before his eyes found the floor.
“You’re not leaving, Pen. He will come after you, if not for any other reason than to make sure you never come back for him.”
My throat was tight as a pathetic defense rested on my tongue. Luke hadn’t ever been malicious or mean, not at all in the years we’d grown up together. His rejection of me, and his son, was painful and hard to process, but he wanted me gone. I never got the sense that he’d come after me.
“If not him, then someone else will, Pen,” Jamie added, almost as if he were reading my mind.
I nodded.
“Look, I know the idea of being married to me doesn’t hold that much appeal, but it’s only temporary.”
“Stop it—” I snapped, “don’t act like I wouldn’t be honored to have you as my husband, Jameson. That was never our issue, and you know it.”
That steel cut jaw continued to work. Emotions I couldn’t name flitted across his face, until he finally cleared his throat.
“Then what is it?”
I wanted him to look at me, and to stop sulking, so I pushed my toes into his thigh. His eyes flew over.
“My concern is you. I can’t stomach you giving up anymore of your life for me, Jamie. I know you promised my mom, but this is going too far. This would mean you couldn”t flirt or go anywhere that anyone could see you if you needed to…be with someone. This would mean you’d have to?—”
“I’m fully aware of what it would mean for me, Pen.” Jamie cut me off with a severe glare.
I shook my head, looking off to the side. This would never work…there was just no way.
“We have a past…”
Jameson shrugged but a tiny bit of pink flushed against his cheek. “Hasn’t been an issue so far.”
It was though. I had just been suppressing how painful it was to have him this close, and attentive. My hand went out toward the room. “We have one bed, you’d have to start sleeping here.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll sleep on the floor if it bothers you so much, but this is happening, Pen. I can’t think of any other way to make the club see you as someone who has my protection.”
It was like he wasn’t hearing me. I knew he was only doing this for my mom…probably a little bit for his dad too, but it was all some hero bullshit that wasn’t needed.
“Luke will come around, Jameson…we just have to give him time. No one is going to come for me if I just slip away for a while and?—”
Jameson suddenly stood and started pacing the room.
“Why can’t you understand this, Pen? I honestly don’t get it. Luke not only rejected you, but he fucked other women in front of you. While you were pregnant with his kid.”
He was scolding me like a child, and I felt fire burn from my ears all the way to my toes.
It took a second, but I stood too, staring off with him.
“I was there, you don’t have to speak to me like I’m an idiot, Jamie.”
He scoffed. “Apparently I do if you honestly think he’s just cooling off or some shit.”
“I don’t think that…I think this took him by surprise and he’s trying?—”
Jameson shook his head back and forth. “Stop defending him. Just fucking stop, Pen. I have been there for you. Me. I have sacrificed.” He pointed at his chest, walking closer. “I have given up my club, my home, everything I know, all to keep you safe. Yet at the mere idea of marrying me, you start making up some bullshit about Luke.”
With an incredulous laugh, he finally sagged his shoulders in defeat. “I should have known that’s how this would go. You’d rather be tied to him, even after everything, than be in a fake marriage with me.”
“No.” I reached out and gripped his wrist. The muscle in his jaw tensed once more as he held still, his fists clenched tight. “That’s not it, Jamie. I’m sorry…fuck, I always say the wrong thing.”
He needed to know why I always seemed to slip up around him. Why my nerves were always so raw when it came to him.
“The truth is…the idea of you settling or sacrificing any more of your life for me is so unacceptable to me that I would literally rather be homeless or throw my hope at the very man who rejected and humiliated me, just to save you the trouble of giving up your freedom for me. I’m not worth it, Jamie. I never have been, why do you think?—”
I stopped because he really didn’t need to know how pathetic I’d been all this time.
“I’m not waiting for Luke. I don’t want Luke, but I also don’t want you to give up your life, and you shouldn’t have to tie yourself to a sinking ship or lose your club just to keep me safe. There has to be another way.”
My grip loosened now that the panic of having him leave melted away. I hated when he left before I had a chance to explain myself.
“You have to just trust that this is what I want, Pen. I’ve never done anything I didn’t want to do. I could hand you off to someone else or find someone to keep you. Hell, I could leave now and just trust the Stone Riders to keep you safe. I want to be here, and I want to do this. Please trust that.”
He lightly gripped the backs of my arms, only hesitating for a second before he pulled me closer, until I was directly in front of him, and his forehead was lightly pinned to mine.
I nodded, trying to accept what he was saying.
“So, when would we do this then?”
The way my heart hammered in my chest was probably not a good sign, but the reality of this discussion still hadn’t sunk in.
Marriage…I was going to get married to him.
“Honestly, the sooner the better. I think we should let everyone see us together for a week, then just do it in the backyard or something.”
I tried not to feel deflated at his easy dismissal of such a monumental day…or what I always assumed would be a monumental day. He was talking about this like we were planning a random barbeque.
Keeping my eyes lowered, I nodded my agreement.
His finger trapped my chin and lifted my gaze.
“Don’t do that.” His whisper seemed to have fingers, digging through our past to that first night Jameson kissed me. “We could get married in a church if you’d prefer?”
I laughed, trying to dislodge the feelings of him lifting my chin stirred in me. “As if any of these bikers would step foot inside one.”
He laughed with me, and for some reason, I wanted him to hug me.
“I’ll accept that this is where you want to be, Jamie, but you have to do something for me.”
His lip quirked. “I’m open to creating a chore wheel.”
I smiled, pushing his shoulder, then muttered, “sleep on the bed…there’s plenty of room and it will help me feel safe. I’ll sleep. Just don’t be uncomfortable, that’s a big deal to me.”
“What if sleeping next to you makes me uncomfortable?” His tone was joking, but memories of our fleeting moments flashed through my mind, making his comment seem jaded.
He pulled me closer, until I was being pressed to his chest.
“That was a joke, Pen. I’ll control myself around you as long as you promise to keep me in the loop on medical stuff and don’t go anywhere alone.”
I nodded into his shirt, trying to inhale as much of his fresh spring smell as I could. He used a specific soap that I recalled looking for in the supermarket for an embarrassing long time, all because I had missed him.
“I promise.”
“We have to get comfortable with each other…we’re going to have to touch and kiss in public,” he said quietly.
I smiled, acting unfazed. “And see each other in little to no clothing while we’re domesticating.”
His face flushed the smallest bit.
“Yeah and that…”
“I think if you—if you need a release or something, we should talk about it, at least so I’m not left wondering where you’re at. You should also go out of town to get laid.”
His brown eyes seemed to glitter as I talked, his lips quirked as he listened and then he sobered.
“What about you? What will you do if you need a release?”
“Vibrator…so maybe just shut the bedroom door and give me some privacy?” I raised a brow at him, nearly in challenge to see if he’d take the bait.
He made a pained sound and stepped away from me.
“Maybe we should have a code…”
“Like an emoji or something,” I offered, thinking it over, “maybe the unlocked padlock emoji.”
Jamie stopped inside the kitchen, scratching at his neck and looking all sorts of uncomfortable.
“Yeah, okay. If you text that, I’ll leave the cabin and give you some privacy.”
I followed to the sink, where I started helping with dishes. “And if you text it, should I head to the clubhouse so I’m not alone here?”
He shook his head. “If I text it, it’ll be for the same reason you do. I’m not going to be hooking up with anyone right now. But if I go anywhere, for any reason, or need privacy then I’ll make sure someone is watching over you. Wes said his man, Harris, can be trusted. That’s who I’ll reach out to.”
I nodded, knowing he’d introduce me when he got the chance.
This was good, we’d managed to get all the uncomfortable topics out of the way.
“Okay, well good. Then if you need to get a release, and I do…then we’ll just text each other so it doesn’t become awkward.”
“I don’t think we have to text each other every time, but maybe if we just need some privacy or you can just lock the door.”
“There’s no lock,” I muttered briefly, a little miffed that he was already trying to rewrite my emoji idea.
“We’ll figure it out.” He moved past me, until he was slipping into his leather jacket and boots. “I need to run over to the house and grab my stuff. I’ll see you tonight.”
He didn’t wait for me to say anything before he slipped outside.
The second Jameson left, I found my phone and pulled up Natty’s contact info.
Me: Remember when I said we’d share secrets?
I set the phone down only to run and relieve my bladder, but by the time I’d returned, Natty had responded.
Natty: Yes. Do you have one?
I punched out a quick reply, my thumbs flying over the screen.
Me: Jameson just asked me to marry him.
Natty: WHAT?! You said nothing was going on between you two.
Me: There’s not. It’s fake. Long story but he’s gone right now, he’s supposed to be coming back later tonight to move in. I’m slightly freaking out.
I scanned the room as I waited for her reply. There was half an apple core on the cutting board, the jar of peanut butter was still out, along with a sleeve of crackers. I absently went over and started cleaning.
The phone chimed with a new text.
Natty: okay, back up…you are fake marrying the man who looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and we’re focusing on him moving in. We need to focus on the fact that there is no way this marriage is fake for him.
I wanted to explain how I knew it was. How I knew Jameson would never cross that line with me, not after our past, but I was too anxious over the state of the house.
Me: I can’t think about it, honestly. But help me…I’ve lived alone for over a month in this cabin. What am I not thinking of as far as prepping to have someone move in?
Natty: …I’m on my way.
I stared at the phone and then smiled. I’d never really had friends, not ones that weren’t obligatory roommates or ones who wanted to be close to me just to get close to the Chaos Kings.
Five minutes later, Natty had driven over on her scooter. She was in a pair of plumb-colored leggings and a flowing white t-shirt, her hair piled on top of her hair in loose curls.
“Okay, I’m going to tackle the dishes and kitchen. How does your room look, is he sleeping in your bed?”
Natty moved to the bedroom. The bed was slightly mussed from my nap from earlier.
“He said he would.” I slid my hand over my stomach, feeling the baby kick.
“We should strip the bed; do you have any fresh linens?”
I hurried over to the closet. “I grabbed some from the main house yesterday.”
Natty grabbed the bundle and then set it on the bed “Perfect.”
I was waiting in bed and watching the door for Jameson. Apprehension was still burning in my chest after all the work I had done since he’d left. I was in bed wearing a nightgown that had no sleeves, dipped into a v over my breasts and it barely covered my ass.
My phone chimed on the bed next to me.
Natty: You showered after I left, right?
My gaze flicked up to the open doorway before I replied.
Me: Yes
Natty: And shaved all the bits?
I smiled, nearly laughing.
Me: All that I could reach, but it’s not like he’ll even notice.
Natty: Oh, he’ll notice. Make him notice, girl. You deserve to get some.
I considered my nightgown again. It wasn’t like I was trying to entice him or anything, but my clothing was limited. I wasn’t exactly flush with cash at the moment, and since I wasn’t currently working, I hadn’t had a chance to go and buy new maternity clothes. Thankfully I had kept my figure for the most part, minus the bigger boobs, which were managed with an oversized sports bra and just accepting that my shirts were going to be tighter than they needed to be.
Jamie wouldn’t care, as it was, he hadn’t looked at me like that in years.
Me: He doesn’t look at me like that…we’re friends
A familiar ache throbbed in my heart as I remembered what it used to be like when his gaze would linger on my curves and hair. How his fingers would seem to itch every time they came close to skimming the curls that bounced against my back.
Natty: And death itself isn’t trailing me like a blood hound. If I leave right now, within two minutes he’d be behind me. Jameson’s eyes get that possessive glimmer effect when he looks at you.
The front door opening had my mind snapping back to the present and me sliding the phone over to the bedside table. My breathing hitched as I waited for Jamie to make his way inside. I had no idea what this new dynamic would be like, but for the first time in months, I would actually be able to relax and fall asleep, feeling something other than worry and fear.
The lamp was still on, so when he walked in, our eyes met.
He wore a black hoodie; his hair was slightly disheveled, and he was in a pair of gray sweats. Over his shoulder, he had a large duffle. Under his arm was a pillow and hanging from his fist was the cord to a sleeping bag.
“Hey.”
He smiled, but it was flat. “Hey. Thought you’d be asleep.”
My shoulder lifted. “Can’t really sleep alone in here.”
His head was already bobbing. “Forgot about that.”
Skirting the bed, his duffle fell to the floor with a thump and then he tossed his sleeping bag on the floor.
“Thought you were going to sleep in the bed.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice, but as he unrolled the sleeping bag, it was pathetically obvious.
His eyes remained down on the floor as he situated his bedroll.
“Think this will work, don’t want to crowd you up there.” He pulled the top of the sleeping bag back then pulled his hoodie up and over his head, leaving him in just a white t-shirt. He slipped his legs inside the narrow opening, and then turned his back to me once his head hit the pillow.
I felt dismissed…honestly it felt similar to everything I’d felt since discovering I was pregnant. Unwanted.
Undesirable.
It was suddenly so painful to even breathe that I merely turned on my side and turned off the lamp. I tried to calm down and think of the sequence of events like snapshots, so it would help calm the panic clawing at my sternum.
Luke had rejected not just me, but our son.
He’d then proceeded to fuck other women in the club where I could see, knowing I was watching. In one excruciating scenario, he’d even locked eyes with me when he’d done it.
The other members wanted me gone, to the point where they started blocking me from being able to even enter the clubhouse and club-owned businesses, regardless that I worked in one of those places.
Jamie had defended me.
Jamie had protected me.
Jamie gave me a place to stay.
Now he was here, offering to marry me just to keep me safe.
The culmination of thoughts had me breathing easier and calming down.
I didn’t need to have Jameson want to marry me, or share my bed, or look at me like I was beautiful, or like he wanted to kiss me.
He was allowed to turn away from me and even sleep on the floor. He was allowed to keep his emotions close to his chest. He didn’t owe those to me. He was allowed to feel however he felt.
I would simply deal with it, and I’d be grateful.
Regardless of everything, he’d saved my life, and I owed him everything.