Page 31 of My Knight

The girls laughed, and I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. The kitchen was still a mess—bright smears of icing, empty flour bags, bowls and measuring cups piled up—but there was something real about the chaos. It was loud, happy, domestic in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The guys had been near the new garage for most of the day, finishing up some install work and preparing to move things in to get back to business. A few of them had drifted inand out to snag cupcakes or grab a sandwich, but it had mostly been the girls holding court inside.

Adalee, as always, had cooked lunch—grilled cheese and tomato soup—but somehow it tasted like a five-star meal. I didn’t know what she did to a damn sandwich, but the grilled cheese I’d eaten had borderline changed my life.

If I wasn’t careful, I was going to gain fifty pounds just hanging around the clubhouse. Between Adalee’s lunches and all of the test bakes she did to get ready for the bakery, I didn’t stand a chance.

And honestly?

I didn’t care.

It felt good to be moving. To be upright. To not be stuck in bed wincing and groaning every time I moved.

I felt better this morning. Still stiff, still bruised, but my color was back, and I had energy. And for the first time since all this shit started, I truly smiled without it looking forced.

It almost felt like things were normal, and there weren’t two psychopaths out there trying to hurt the Iron Fiends. It was like we weren’t tucked away safely in the clubhouse.

A second before the front door swung open, the sound of boots and loud voices sounded. The guys were back from the garage.

“God damn, it smells good in here,” Throttle groaned as he made a beeline for the bar.

Dice wasn’t far behind him and vaulted over the bar like he couldn’t wait another second without a beer. “I call dibs on being at the bakery to help with shit,” he announced.

Adalee laughed and shook her head as she pulled a fresh towel from the drawer. “I don’t know if having scary-looking bikers serve cupcakes and cakes is the best business model. We’ll have to keep you in the back.”

Dice rubbed the scruff on his jaw with exaggerated pride. “I’m not scary-looking. That’s called rugged, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah,” Sloane said, completely serious. “Rugged is the right word. I bet we’d have a line out the door of women trying to get a cupcake from you.”

Dice pointed at her like she’d just solved world hunger. “Thank you. Have I told you that you’re my favorite ol’ lady?”

Aero stepped around the bar and slapped the back of Dice’s head without missing a beat. “Get your own ol’ lady, man.”

Dice scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll pass. I’ll just use your guys for things I need.”

“You will not be using my woman for anything,” Aero said and gave him a look that could cut steel.

“Damn,” Sloane sighed and dramatically fanned herself with her hand. “I’m going to have to tell Winter about this. She’ll love it.”

“Winter?” I asked and glanced at her with curiosity.

“Her writer best friend,” Compass supplied and walked past us with a plate full of cupcakes. “That’s how Sloane and Aero met.”

That perked my interest. I knew next to nothing about how they’d gotten together, and I tipped my head, about to ask more when Sloane beat me to it.

“Dove and I went to Motorcycles, Mobsters, and Mayhem in Houston. A book signing that is only MC, mafia, or mayhem authors,” she said with a grin. “All I wanted to do was meet my favorite authors. Instead, I met the love of my life.”

“Yuck,” Dice called as he filled a glass with beer.

Sloane rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on a towel before walking over and getting right in Dice’s face. She raised her middle finger with a flourish. “Bite me. You wouldn’t beeating delicious meals and living in a spotless clubhouse if it wasn’t for Aero and me getting together.”

“I was doing just fine before you guys showed up,” Dice said with a shrug, then took a long swig of his beer.

“I’d like the record to show,” Aero said loudly, “that those are Dice’s opinions and Dice’s opinions only.”

Laughter echoed through the kitchen.

The front door opened again, and this time—it was him.

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