Page 4 of Hollywood

And that feeling that I thought was just girlish desires returned ten-fold when I nearly ran into him on my way to the kitchen. “Where’s the fire,” he asked with a laugh.

In my panties.“No fire. Dad said he needed my help.”

“Yeah,” he grinned and raked a hair through his thick, blond hair. “I’m supposed to be making a salad but what the fuck do I know about making a salad?”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Have you never eaten a salad?”

His thick brows dipped. “I try not to. I prefer my food hot. And meaty.”

I could go for some hot meat, but that wasn’t what he meant. “Well then I can help, or maybe you can help me.” I bumped him out of the way, but it was a mistake because every inch of him was hard. Rock hard and oh so tempting. “You can rinse the lettuce, can’t you?”

He flashed a brilliant smile. “You’re kind of a smart ass, aren’t you?”

“No,” I answered and looked over my shoulder. “I’m a big ol’ smart ass,” I assured him and pulled out the rest of salad ingredients.

“Good to know.” That look in his green eyes was breath-taking.

“So Hollywood, what have you been doing since you regained your freedom?” I watched him carefully as I chopped cucumbers and tomatoes, searching for any sign that he was about to lie to me.

“Not much. Had to deal with some MC stuff after I visited my mom and then I’ve mostly been partying and hanging out with my brothers. It’s time for me to reintegrate into society, I suppose.”

“Sounds like you’re reintegrating just fine to me. Your club brothers aren’t just your friends, right? They’re also your business partners so you have a job and a support system. What else do you need?”

“A place to live,” he began. “I’ve been staying at the clubhouse and that’s fine for the short-term but after the joint, some privacy would be nice.”

That was understandable. “You need to dry the lettuce,” I told him and grabbed the salad spinner for him. “And I heard there’s a whole profession of people who only help other people find places to live. What are they called again?”

“You’re right, youarea big ol’ smart ass.”

“Thank you very much. Now dry that lettuce.” I pointed to the wet lettuce and smiled because talking to him like this, like a normal person, was nice. It was good. He was becoming more than just a crush, a fantasy.

He was becoming a possibility.

Chapter Three

Hollywood

Hanging around the clubhouse was just part of my life these days because the clubhouse was my—temporary—home and when a party happened, I was usually in the middle of it.

I looked around at the old ladies and the club whores, feeling ambivalent about the latter and envious of the former. Since I got back to Nevada the whores have fulfilled the need that had been previously satisfied by my left hand. Sometimes my right hand. I liked the club girls, appreciated them because they were easy and casual. They didn’t ask for more than any of us wanted to give. At least until Cindy had gone too far and found herself a permanent home in the desert.

Still after my last girlfriend, Linzey, I didn’t get involved with women, not really. She didn’t want the life I had to give her, and she stomped all over my heart in the process. Love and commitment wasn’t for me. It was all good and nice to see my brothers fall in love and find a different future for them, but it wasn’t for me.

Not now. Not ever.

Still, I eyed the club girls with a hunger that was born of too many years without the touch of a woman. The only eye candy in the whole fucking joint were the female guards and they were nothin’ to jack off to, believe me. Still, after two weeks of bangin’ club whores, my appetite seemed to have waned.

Which was bullshit, since at the moment I had no other options.

“Stop being a fucking perv,” Rebel growled and elbowed me in the side. “We’re ready to meet to talk about the Santangelo problem.”

The Santangelo problem is what we were calling it, but the truth was that it was a Steel Demons problem. The cartel wanted us to step in where the Blood Reapers left off, at least that’s what they said. I didn’t trust those fuckers as far as I could throw the smallest one. But it wasn’t only my call. I was just one vote. “Lead the way.”

When we arrived at our meeting room, nearly everyone else was already there and seated except Diesel and Rocky who always entered last, unless someone was late. “Welcome back to church, Hollywood.”

“Yeah, thanks.” It’s been too long since I sat around this table with my brothers and made a decision that would impact the members directly. It felt damn good to be back, to sit here with them and voice my opinion. Nice that what I thought even fucking mattered to anyone after years of being damn near invisible.

Diesel entered with Rocky right behind him and both men took their seats, Diesel at the head of the table and Rocky to his right. It was symbolic but it said everything about the structure of the MC. “All right, is everyone here?” The question went to the MC secretary, Hawk, who nodded.

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