Page 22 of Smooth Sailing

“Talking, explaining, and us offering you and your girl protection because you by no means got that buttoned up,” Hugger replied. “They’re casing you. They’re figuring shit out. They’re making plans. And they’re gonna put them in play when they think they can get the job done without blowback.”

Thus my need to layer concealer under my eyes due to missing sleep because I knew this exact thing was what was happening.

I stared at Hugger.

If he didn’t look so serious, he’d be cute.

There was a lot of handsome under all that hair.

So much of it, even all that hair couldn’t hide it. Straight, strong nose. Thick, curling, dark eyelashes. Full, ridged lips.

But with all that hair, and his big bulky body, he was the kind of guy you wanted to tease you while you pretended it annoyed you, but you secretly loved it. The kind of guy who would chop onions beside you while you seasoned the meat. The kind of guy who would open his arms in invitation so you could curl up on his lap and he’d make you feel better just by engulfing you in him after you had a bad day.

In other words, cute.

He might not be into excessive grooming (or any grooming at all), but he was fit. He was wearing a Rage Against the Machine black tee, faded blue jeans and black motorcycle boots, but they were all clean.

And he smelled of a hint of clove, a hint of sandalwood and the barest trace of citrus—warm, outdoorsy and fresh, which seemed to define him completely, even if I knew nothing about him.

A quick sweep of the other three said much the same thing (sans the scent, they weren’t close enough I could smell them).

I made another important decision that day and stepped through the doors.

Hugger came out after me.

I stopped just outside and didn’t move.

Neither did they.

“There are cameras everywhere,” I told him (or them, but I directed it at Hugger).

“We know,” he replied.

“We’re having this chat here. I’m not letting you into my place until I understand what’s going on,” I shared.

“Acceptable,” Hugger grunted.

“Okay then,” I continued. “What’s going on?”

“Babic got a hankering for the president of the Aces High MC’s old lady. He kidnapped her to share this info,” Hugger stated.

That fucking guy.

“Ugh,” I muttered.

“She was unimpressed with his attention, and that was communicated. He then began to fuck with other old ladies of Aces. Leaving notes on the windshields of their cars. Sending them flowers and gifts at their work and homes. Subtle shit that’s not illegal, but would mess with their heads,” Hugger continued. “And it’s messing with their heads.”

“Ugh again,” I said.

Hugger ignored my utterance.

“Somehow, he got hooked up with a biker bunny who has a beef with Aces,” he carried on. “She’s cousin to an old lady of a brother of Resurrection.” Hugger tilted his head to the super tall guy and the one standing next to him who didn’t have a man-bun. “And for some reason, this has translated to him having an interest not only in Aces, but Resurrection and Chaos. We don’t know why. We just know no good can come of it. That’s why me, Eight and Muzzle are down here. To work with Aces to find out.”

“And Suzette factors into this…?” I trailed off in my prompt, and then I stiffened and fought taking a step back when he answered, but his tone had deteriorated significantly.

“Suzette factors into this first, because we are not okay with any motherfucker doing what he did to any woman,” Hugger gritted. “But he did, and that shit cannot go unanswered.”

Even if I agreed with him, I swallowed nervously, not only at his tone, but the sheer wrath that glittered in his dark eyes that accompanied it.

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