Page 78 of Cinder
“I’m Belle. And this is Lucy.”
I look at the baby stirring in her arms. “She’s adorable.”
“Thanks.” She smiles. “She’s teething, but this room seems to settle her.”
“And why wouldn’t it? There’s something special about it.”
“That’s what I told Beast when he first brought me in here.”
I think of the fierce president and wonder what he was like when he pursued her.
“It’s unusual for a biker clubhouse to have a library,” I say.
“So is having an old castle for a clubhouse, I suppose,” Belle says, patting Lucy’s back to settle her when she starts to fuss. “Apparently, when the Knights originally brought it, the library was left behind by the original owners. It sat gathering dust for decades until I came along.”
Lucy settles and falls into a contented sleep in Belle’s arms.
“Have you and Beast been married long?” I ask.
“A little over a year and a half.”
“How did you meet?”
She chuckles. “Now that’s a story. But maybe one for another day. Let’s just say when my husband knows what he wants, he goes after it.”
I can imagine it.
I’ve seen the way he looks at her. Like she is the only woman on Earth.
And the love of his life.
“So, you and Lars…” she says out of the blue.
My eyes dart to hers. “Let me guess, Mya is your best friend too.”
She laughs. “She’s determined to find Lars his happily ever after.”
I think about my encounter with Lars in his bedroom this afternoon.
About his warm lips on my skin.
About the way his touch sent tiny shivers of bliss skating across my skin.
How I was surrendering beneath his warm touch.
“Lars is a good guy. Scary as hell, and I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him. But you only need to look at him with Lucy to see how big his heart is.”
I picture Lars with baby Lucy in his powerful inked arms, and heat flares at my core.
“We’re just friends,” I say.
She gives me a warm smile. But her eyes twinkle with knowingness. “I think you and I both know that’s not true.”
I don’t know what it is about Belle, but I have the sudden urge to confide in her. How I feel about Lars. How much I want it to be something more than friends. But why it can’t be.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask.
“Maybe not to others. But I’ve seen how you look at him.”
