Page 60 of Bloom: Part 2

Everyone turned at the same time, the room falling silent. Crowe wore a scowl even deeper than the other times we’d met. Next to him, Max clutched his arm.

“Crowe, don’t cause a scene.”

But Crowe stalked forward. Bloom put his hand behind his back, but Crowe grabbed it and yanked it forward to inspect the ring. I ground my teeth, mentally willing myself to stay composed. The more time I spent around these bikers, the more comfortable I was getting with the notion of violence to solve my problems, and that wasn’t my way. I was a doctor—a healer.

And I didn’t like anyone manhandling the guy I loved.

“Is this an engagement ring?” Crowe asked.

Bloom’s gaze skittered to me, then returned to Crowe. He pulled his hand away. “It is. Logan proposed to me, and I told him he couldn’t take it back, so we’re getting married.”

“What do you mean you said he couldn’t take it back?” one of the boys asked. “Did he want to take it back?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I meant every word then. I’ll mean it when I walk him down the aisle and every day when we spend our lives together.”

“You and me, outside—now!” The biker pointed at me.

“Crowe, no!” Bloom wedged himself between us, but I gently turned him away.

“It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. Electricity crackled, and every person seemed to hold their breath as they looked at Crowe and me, the tension hanging between us like a heavy curtain.

“Crowe, if you hurt him—”

“Bloom, I can take care of myself.”

“What’s going on?” Grimm took one look at Crowe and me and groaned. “Not this fucking mess again.”

“Logan asked Bloom to marry him,” Cass said. “Now I think Crowe wants to break his face.”

“Take it the fuck outside, then,” Grimm said, his voice booming. “I’m not having anyone ruin Jamie’s hard work. The rest of us can sit while the cavemen work out their issues.”

The others drifted back to their areas, chattering in hushed tones. Crowe, Bloom, Max, and I remained standing.

“Are you coming outside or what?” Crowe said.

“All right, then. Let’s talk. Bloom, save me a seat, and I’ll be right back.”

For a second, he looked as though he wanted to argue, but he clenched his jaw and trailed his fingers along my forearm, then released his hold on me.

I followed Crowe out of the clubhouse. The door remained open wide enough to hear the chattering inside. The night air was cool, but not cold enough to be uncomfortable. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans while Crowe paced back and forth across the wooden planks of the porch.

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘congratulations.’” I couldn’t keep the snark out of my tone if I’d cared to try.

Crowe spun around, his jaw taut. “You shouldn’t have proposed to him.”

I crossed my arms. “Why not?”

“It’s too soon. He’s too young, and how the hell are you supposed to marry him? He doesn’t even have any documents.”

“We’re working on it.”

“We?”

“Yes, I asked Grimm to find a guy for me.”

He blinked as though I caught him by surprise. “You did?”

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