Page 51 of Wild Side
This clubhouse is one gigantic loop with no beginning and no end.
Rolling to the side, I reach out and find the other side of the bed not only empty but also cold, which means it has been empty for a while. Pushing myself up to a seated position, I look around the room and let out a sigh. I still want to know who cleaned it, but I have bigger fish to fry today.
Now that things have happened the way that they have with my father, I need to have a serious conversation with Chase about the future. It seems like it’s a bit premature, especially since we don’t even know one another very well, and when I say very well, I mean not at all.
However, since I’m pregnant and Chase has claimed me as his, I think we’ve not just sped up the relationship process but actually gone at warp fucking speed. And the thought of that causes my heart to race, but not in fear—in excitement.
Gathering my bathroom things and a change of clothes, I pad out of the room and down the short hallway to the bathroom. Just as Chase promised me, it’s clean. There are some serious stains in the grout, in the tub, and the toilet, but it’s clean, and that’s all a girl can ask for in a den of men.
I shower, wash my hair, shave my legs—the whole thing. When I dress, it’s in my normal uniform of jean shorts and a T-shirt. After taking the time to comb my hair, I also put on a little bit of makeup. I guess if I’m going to attempt a serious conversation with Chase, I should try to look my best.
My stomach rolls, and I sway slightly.
Food.
I need food.
And I need it now.
Slipping on a pair of flat shoes, I run my fingers through my wet hair as I go in search of food. I know that logically, I should be going to the kitchen to make some eggs, maybe have some avocado toast on the side, but what I want is something sweet from the bakery. I’ve been dreaming about it since I finished the last bite of the muffin I had a few days ago.
The vibes are off as I enter the bar. It’s not necessarily anything that makes me pause, just the air around me. Glancing around, I look for signs of life, but there is nobody anywhere. The old-timer isn’t at the bar, the prospect isn’t manning it, and there are no barely-dressed girls anywhere.
Something is wrong.
A stomach pang redirects my attention to the kitchen, and my feet act accordingly, carrying me toward the door. Slipping inside, I hear feminine voices that are murmuring in low, hushed tones.
I hope it’s Dakota and Posey, but I’m disappointed when I move farther into the room to see that it’s two of the club girls sitting at the small table, drinking a cup of coffee. I shouldn’t care if they’re here. They live here. This is more their home than mine, but seeing them, knowing they’ve likely been with Chase, makes me feel… icky. But mostly jealous.
“Hey,” one of them calls out. “Everyone calls me Ice, and this is Daisy,” she says, motioning to the girl across from her.
Instead of being a bitch, I give them a small wave. “I’m Zadie,” I say.
The conversation is done, and for whatever reason, I feel less anxious about their existence. Maybe because they weren’t being rude, but most likely because I’m so hungry, I could eat my own arm.
I open the fridge, bending over to look inside, and see what I can find. I hear a throat clear from the doorway, and then the two women giggle as I turn my head slowly to find Chase standing there, a pretty, canary-yellow box in his hand.
A bakery box.
This man is a dream come true, a dream with delicious pastries.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MAVERICK
The last thingI wanted to do was leave her this morning, warm and naked in my bed, but I had to finish the inventory with Viking so we could get everything approved by Bullet and get the shop emptied out and closed up. That is another form of revenue for the club. We own the building and can rent it out. And I plan on making that shit happen.
I’m so fucking happy to be out of the surveillance equipment business, I feel like I need to pinch myself. It almost feels like a dream. Thankfully, it doesn’t take us long to finish our inventory list, and we separate, both of us needing to get some shit handled.
“Hey,” Viking calls out.
I stop, turning my head to look over at him. “Yeah?” I ask.
“I’m going to leave you off the new rotation for the truck escorting job until you and your woman get settled. I can spare you for maybe a month,” he calls out. “But I’m finalizing shit today.”
“Appreciate it, brother,” I reply. “I’m going to get her shit wrapped up, hopefully in the next two weeks. Gonna have to talk to Ivy about legal shit for her father, if there’s anything we need to do since he just disappeared.”
Disappeared.
