Page 78 of Miguel

He smirked. “Of course, Vieja.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He pushed away from the entry of the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. “Hearing you say ‘we’ and make plans for the future, including Zeke? The way you’re taking care of him like he’s yours? Fuck, nena. It makes me so fucking happy.”

I melted at his words. I hadn’t even realized it was something I’d been doing, but it had felt right. I loved Zeke. He deserved the world and a huge part of me wanted to give it to him.

“And don’t worry about money.” Miguel pulled away, swatting my backside playfully. “I have all the bills covered. Find Zeke the best specialist and I’ll have Chema look into them before we send him anywhere.”

The benefits of his club brothers, it seemed, was that they all had a different set of talents. He’d explained to me what their patches meant, and what kind of jobs they did for the club, though his explanations were vague at best.When I’d asked him to elaborate, he’d grunt and say, “Club business.”

I didn’t like being kept in the dark, but I also understood that this was now a part of my life. They did dangerous things. I wasn’t sure what that danger entailed, but I knew they did. By not telling me, Miguel was keeping me safe. So I didn’t have to be involved in whatever morally gray things they were up to.

I hated not knowing, but after sitting on it for a couple of days I realized I preferred it that way. Not that I was going to go through life with rose-colored glasses. Anything could happen. Crime ran rampant in Tlaxcala. It ran rampant everywhere. I should have been afraid of Miguel, of Los Diablos, but there were a lot of things I probably should have done and just didn’t.

It didn’t matter.

Because at the end of the day, if I found myself in trouble, it was better to have the devil at your back than in front of you.

At least that’s what I told myself when Miguel invited me to the clubhouse for a carne asada.

I hadn’t seen his brothers since he’d taken Desi and I there. I probably hadn’t left a good impression on them, what with the quick way I’d left and hadn’t looked back, with the way I’d openly judged. Now I had to face them. The people Miguel called family. Now my own as well.

Nerves settled deep in my stomach at the thought of them hating me on principle. No matter what I was to Miguel. It didn’t matter how many times Miguel tried to reassure me, the feeling didn’t ebb. It only got worse when he drove through the gates of the MC compound. The seatbelt bit into my chest and my fingers were cramping from how hard I was clenching them against my jeans.

Miguel parked the SUV and turned in my direction. I gripped the strap of the seat belt tightly, chewing on the edge.

“Nena.” Miguel’s hand closed over mine. “Relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax,” I whispered, angrier than usual.

He pried my fingers away from the seatbelt. “Nena.” His voice was firm with command, the kind that had me turning to look at him. “What’s all this about?”

I fought back the urge to release my tears. “They’re going to hate me for my behavior last time.”

“Nena, you did nothing wrong last time. You’re family now. I promise you, they don’t care.”

Tightness obstructed my throat. “Are you sure?”

He leaned between the center console to press a tender kiss to my temple. “I promise you, Vieja. Now let’s go. They’re waiting.”

I let out a breath before finally exiting the vehicle. Before I could, Miguel was already at the backseat, unbuckling and pulling Zeke out and setting him down on his feet. He bent down to his son’s level, speaking and signing what few words he knew.

“It’s going to be loud here,” he explained. “If it becomes too much, you have to give me your hearing aids, okay?”

Zeke gave him a nod before he skirted around Miguel and dashed off, leaving his father stunned and still kneeling on the ground.

“He’s coming out of his shell,” I said with a laugh, grabbing his hand and helping him to a stand.

“Yeah?” He looked hopeful. I knew how much he worried about Zeke and his progress. He was already learning so quickly, but Miguel was in a constant state of stress. If it wasn’t secret business with the club or problems at his mechanic shop, it was trying to ensure his son had everything he needed.

“Yes.” My hands pressed on his shoulders, making him instantly relax. “You’re a good dad, Viejito,” I teased.

He groaned. “You know I love it when you call me that.” He pressed closer, his eyes darkening with an expression I was familiar with. His hips found mine, pressing tightly against my body.

Even with his club brothers and their families creating a chorus of music in the background, I felt my body respond in kind to his advance. He was an addiction at this point. I didn’t care that there were people around, likely looking for or watching us.

None of that mattered when he bent down and took my mouth in a scorching kiss. Tongues tangling, teeth crashing, we didn’t pull apart until we heard dog whistles and cries in our direction.

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