Page 61 of Bullet

I keep the phone at my ear long after I know he’s hung up.

A ride isn’t just a ride. It’s the start of something. It’s an official statement, not just to us, but to the club, and to all of Hart.

Can I embrace that part of myself that I’ve kept locked away for so long? Can I stand beside a man like Bullet?

The doubts are wicked and shred through me like jagged teeth, but it’s a little late for them. I have six hours to figure out how to transform myself from a professional, suit-wearing, career-driven, ambitious, upstanding lawyer into a badass who wears ripped jeans and leather.

I actually chuckle at myself. Bullet liked me before I was any of that. He wanted me exactly as I was. He saw the parts of me I couldn’t even see. I don’t have to be a badass for him. I don’t have to go out and make myself look like a biker babe, imitating the outfits the club’s women wear.

Tyrant’s old lady, Lark, still wears her floral dresses and looks like a bohemian goddess.

I do own a few pairs of jeans and they’ll be good enough. Anything else, I can learn with the same drive I’ve applied all my life. I can be me, even if that means learning who I really am as a woman and a person, not just as a caregiver and a lawyer.

Bullet will show me. He’ll help me. Itrusthim.

Chapter 16

Bullet

We’re a good match. Sometimes the most unlikely pairings form the strongest bonds.

I try to back that up with everything I’ve ever learned about chemistry and physics, but truth is, I was always shit at both. I don’t have to be able to name every law in the universe to know that I want to make this work.Thisbeing Lynette and a shot at making her happy, whatever that looks like. It doesn’t have to be a relationship. She doesn’t have to live here or be my old lady. She doesn’t have to fit into a mold.

Maybe we can both be who we are and still have something beautiful come out of that clash of opposing forces.

I’m not going to pretend that I’m not nervous when I pull up in front of her house. Thank fuck the tremors from the bike mask the ones in my hands, but Smoke’s snarky words as I left the clubhouse are still banging around in my brain.

“It’s official then? You’ve finally met your downfall—I mean your match? If you spent half as much time planning how you’re going to rebuild the range as you do pining for a woman who isn’t even going to work out, maybe we’d get back to our real love sometime this side of the century. Guns. But nope. Seems you’ve gone soft. Soft heart, what’s next? Soft hands? Dropping out of the club because we’re too morally gray?”

Smoke was just frustrated, and I can’t say he ever holds back, but I won’t pretend that his vote of not-so-confidence didn’t chafe like a splinter all the way here.

My first loyalty will always be to my oath and to my club brothers, but that doesn’t mean I can’t uphold that oath and still make room in my life for something else.

Even if I didn’t see it coming, I’m here now.

I want this.

I want Lynette. Long before that night she caught me jacking off and surprised me by watching, she captivated me. Awed me. Intrigued me. I want to take her in my hands and show her the pleasures she’s no doubt denied herself. I want to learn her body, her spirit, her heart, her mind. She’s a gorgeous mystery, wrapped up in layers upon layers. Smoke thinks she’s too classy for me. I know she’s too classy for me.

I want to introduce her to this life. I’ve already started. She hasn’t been corrupted. She’s just opened her eyes. She hasn’t fallen or descended or condescended to my level. I haven’t stepped up, playing a game far above my pay grade.

We’ve met in the middle. We’ve waited. We’ve wanted, denying the insane pull that’s always been there. However this plays out and whatever tomorrow brings, tonight is right. It’sournight.

Despite my little pep talk, I’m still sweating under my leather jacket as I walk up the driveway and ring the bell.

I have an extra brain bucket in one hand, a pair of boots in the other.

Lynette answers. I’ve seen her in silk pajamas, in her workout gear, but this is the first time I’ve seen her in a pair of jeans. Paired with the vintage gray and blue varsity jacket sporting a massive horse’s head on the back, her hair loose in tousled wavesthat frame her face, she looks so different. Different as in a different kind of stunning. The cold sweat slicking my skin heats up and my cockhead slams against my zipper with a force that nearly makes me groan. I’m going to have to ride my bike with an erection hard enough to snap if I angle it the wrong way.

Lynette glances around me at the bike parked in front of the sidewalk.

She purses her lips, which makes me want to claim them, first like a gentleman, and then in the savage kiss I’ve been dreaming about, when she warms and welcomes it.

Her forehead creases and doubt flashes in her honey eyes, darkening and hardening them.

“You can still change your mind. We could always stay in.”

Slowly, her doubts fade, overtaken by that same determination she throws at whatever challenge she needs to surmount. “While both of those are perfectly good options, I want to do this.” She takes the boots out of my hand and slips them on, one after the other. “They’re the perfect size,” she gasps after lacing them and taking one step to test them.

---