Page 41 of Rambler's Snow Bunny
Something in my chest loosens at her words. I hadn’t realized how worried I was that she might change her mind, might decide that she’d made a mistake coming here with me.
“Good,” I say, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”
She smiles, laying her head back on my chest. “I can think of worse fates.”
I chuckle, my hand resuming its lazy patterns on her back. “Get some sleep, butterfly. We’ve got nowhere to be tomorrow.”
She hums contentedly, her body relaxing against mine. Within minutes, her breathing evens out, and I know she’s fallen asleep.
I lie awake a little longer, watching the shadows from the storm dance across the ceiling and thinking about the woman in my arms. I’ve never been a possessive man. I’ve never cared enough about anyone to feel that way. But with the little imp sleeping peacefully on my chest, everything feels different.
She’s mine now, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, to make her happy.
To make her stay.
As I drift off to sleep, I know with absolute certainty that I’ll kill any motherfucker who tries to take her from me, including that piece of shit ex of hers.
She’s my woman, now.
My old lady.
My butterfly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You sure about this, butterfly?”Rambler turns down another street, making me feel even more lost in this maze of a city. “I make enough scratch, you ain’t gotta work.”
I squeeze his hand where it rests on the gear shift. “I appreciate that, honey, I really do, but if I’m going to get my life back, I want to work.”
He grumbles under his breath about stubborn independent women, making me giggle.
“What are you doing today?” I ask, trying to change the subject while watching the piles of snow that line the streets. It’s theweirdest thing, seeing these mountains of white pushed up against buildings and into corners of parking lots.
“Gotta head over to Eternal Peace,” he says, his eyes never leaving the road. “Undertaker needs some help with a situation.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I nod, still finding it strange that the club owns a funeral home. That doesn’t exactly scream outlaw biker, but what do I know?
Rambler takes another turn and stops in front of a little white house with a bright purple door. The sign out front readsShear Madness Salonin swooping purple letters.
“How stinking cute is this place?” I press my hands to the window, taking in the colorful exterior.
“Seriously, babe?”
I look over my shoulder as Aaron’s brow goes up. He’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I roll my eyes, but I can’t keep the smile off my face. This is my first day at the salon, and I’m as excited as a chihuahua. I might pee on the floor.
Okay, not really, but I am excited.
“Where’s your phone?” he asks, his eyes searching my face.
I pull the new iPhone he got me out of my bag and show it to him. “Right here.”
He nods, his gray eyes serious. “You’ve got my number. If?—”
I wave him off before he can finish. “If I need anything at all, I’d better call you or you’ll tan my ass.” He’s only told me that a half dozen times this morning.
His lips twitch with the hint of a smile. “Yes.”
