Page 74 of Bullet

“You’re thinking hard and loud,” Bullet muses, walking us down the back hallway past all those closed doors. I don’t know which one is his, and thinking about spending the night there one day lights a fire in my sore body.

“Yes. But only good things. All the poetry I keep locked inside myself so that one day, I can feed it to you word for word.”

“I’ll work for it,” he responds seriously, the lights in his dark eyes burning like fireflies in the night. “I’ll draw them out of you and eat them off your lips and your tongue.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“You nearly killed me this morning. I didn’t know cotton underwear could feel like sandpaper, but it’s been proven to me that it can indeed. I thought riding on a leather seat for days was the worst of the chaffing a man’s balls could get, but was proved wrong. If I haven’t made you sure of me, then I’m afraid for what the future holds.”

I pull my hand from his, but only so I can smack his ass a lot harder than he tapped mine outside. “Afraid? I’m excited about the future.”

He wraps his arm around my waist, and we walk together, grinning at each other until we’re pulled from our own little world by the massive assembly in the lounge. The first time I arrived here, the place was virtually empty, but now it’s the exact opposite. It reminds me of the house when all the old ladies and Bullet’s club brothers came to help out. Busy, buzzing, chaotic, uniquely marvelous and something entirely wondrous.

This is my world now.

No one is in party mode right now. Despite the fact that these men look like hulking, leather-clad beasts who could easily be provoked to violence, the place has an almost homey feel. When we walk in, there are no scowls or dubious looks. No one second guesses Bullet for bringing an outsider into the midst of their sacred domain.

Guilt nibbles at my gut. They’re all standing or sitting around the room, casually at ease, wearing smiles and warm expressions. They’re not coldly assessing me, challenging me, or waiting for me to prove myself.

Before I knew Bullet, I would have expected this place to be a den of iniquity. I can imagine that, on the right night, it would have no problem transforming, but that’s not who these men are. I would have passed them off as criminal scum, shuddering at even brushing shoulders with them. If they even had an inkling of how snobby and prejudiced I was, would they be so kind now?

Sensing my doubt, Bullet’s arm tightens around my waist, and right there in front of everyone, he sweeps around and kisses me on the forehead.

He addresses the room with me tucked tightly into his side. “Everyone, this is Lynette George. Soon to officially be our club’s new lawyer, and my old lady.”

Suddenly there’s cheering, hollering, and backslapping going on.

“About time too! Thought you were never gonna make your move,” Smoke says with a wide grin.

Bullet gives him a hard stare, no doubt worried that he’s going to say something crude, but instead Smoke just gives his head a shake and it’s all smiles again.

I thought I’d react differently at hearing it put out there, into words. The term girlfriend is so inadequate, but also far less threatening, in a way. I gave him a hard time in the compound, but here, in front of all these men, it’s not annoyance that spikes through me at being publicly claimed. An immediate warmth trickles down to wash away the guilt. I’m no longer doing this on my own, thrashing and fighting against the universe, forging a path forward with nothing more than the iron blade of my will.

I have a good man at my side, and his family.

There are far fewer women here than men, and no kids in the lounge. It’s a school day, and most of the old ladies are probably at work. Raiden is here alone. His wife teaches at one of the colleges, though not the one Willa is attending. She’s in afternoon classes right now with Atlas, but it seems as though the rest of the men from the club are assembled.

There are so many big bodies in here, it’s a wonder that the place doesn’t explode from the sheer force of all that testosterone.

Lark walks in from the kitchen and the crowd seems to part for her. It’s almost magical, how the men dip their heads in reverence when she passes. She’s just a tiny slip of a thing with a fluttering floral dress.

The scent of sharp apples and cinnamon cling to her, stirring nostalgia deep inside me.

She heads straight for me, a wide smile in place. “I’m baking you a pie, since the one you made here had to be abandoned. By the time anyone found it, it was hours and hours later.”

Unexpectedly, my ears burn with tears. It’s such a small gesture, but it tells me that I’m seen and thought of. “Thank you,” I push out, shoving the thick screen of emotion blocking my throat aside. I extend that to the rest of the room with a small, watery smile. “Thank you so much for having me.”

When Tyrant walks through the lounge, men also part to let him through. He takes Lark’s hand and offers me his other. “We’re honored to have you work with us. It’s not a responsibility we’ll take lightly on our end. But as a woman and not the lawyer, we’re happy for you both.”

A voice in the crowd calls out. “I guess she passes muster and we couldn’t be happier for you both. Wait. We could. If you got construction on the range started.”

Smoke. Bullet’s good friend, he might be on his best behavior regarding our relationship, but nothing’s going to stop him ribbing his friend when the opportunity arises. He’s snarky and obviously has a wild streak a mile long that he doesn’t bother much to contain. I can’t say I was comfortable in his presence the first few times we met, but I understand now that he’s not full of malice. He’s just got that wry, sarcastic sense of humor. He’s truly happy for Bullet. Maybe a little jealous and cautious, but I’m glad Bullet has people who care enough to feel the depth of those emotions.

“I will,” Bullet promises. “We all will. As soon as the insurance money comes through which it will, we’ll get started. Lynette can take care of the legal side of it and the whole club can have input on the drawings for the new building. The last one wasconverted from an old warehouse and we had to work with what was already there, but there’s something to be said for building something from the ground up.”

I can tell there isn’t a single man here who doesn’t love to shoot. Probably a few of the women too. They’re all eager to support this project that Bullet is so passionate about.

I might be leery of guns, but this matters so much to the man I care about, and that means it matters to me. I can imagine him teaching me how to shoot there, and learning to enjoy it just because he’ll be in his element and I want him to have as much joy as he can wring from life.

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