Page 11 of Coming Home

“I don’t think I would mind. It would be nice to be around family who care about me,” he says softly.

We sit in silence for a few minutes until I see him yawn and decide to give him a moment alone to absorb everything that has happened.

I leave him to rest and head towards the kitchen where Dani is helping Mama cook. She’s smiling and looking like she’s fitting right in. I lean against the door and just stare. I can’t help it.

“You know, Prez will kill you for looking at her like that,” a voice mutters beside me, scaring me.

“Fuck. Sneak up on me why don’t you,” I grumble at Knuckles.

“It’s not really sneaking when you are standing in the doorway of the kitchen,” he says dryly.

“Fuck off,” I say without any heat.

“Way to ignore the topic though. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you eyeing Dani like she’s a cold beer on a hot day,” he says smirking at me.

I chuckle at his words. “I’m not eyeing her like she’s a cold beer.”

“Just know what you are getting yourself into, brother,” he says before patting me on the back and walking into the room. He tries to sneak a piece of garlic bread, but Mama slaps his hand with a wooden spoon.

“Wait for everything to be done,” she scolds.

“I’m a growing boy,” he says with a pout.

“Go eat a carrot,” she says while pushing him away.

I laugh. She always says that when someone wants to eat before the food is ready.

“I don’t want a carrot,” he grumbles.

“If you aren’t hungry enough for a carrot, you aren’t really hungry,” she states.

That’s something she always says. She’s definitely the mom of the club.

I look over at Dani who is smiling but shaking her head at their antics.

I catch her glance over at me and I give her one of my grins that always seems to work on women, but she just rolls her eyes and turns back to her task.

Seems I will have to up my game.

Chapter Three

Dani

Okay, I am attracted to Zane.

That doesn’t mean I will fall for his flirting attempts, or the winks and grins he sends my way.

I like to have men work harder than that.

I also am not sure if I should be getting involved with someone who is a part of the club that my dad leads. I don’t want anything to mess up my chance at getting to know my dad.

I take a break and sit in the main club room, which is where my father finds me.

“Sorry, things have been really busy,” he says while taking a seat beside me. A prospect hands him a beer.

I shrug. “It’s okay, but don’t think that I don’t know you have been spending this time reconnecting with my mom,” I say with a teasing smirk.

“Does that bother you?” he asks.

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