Page 32 of Jasper
I glance over at Tessa, and she gives me a small nod. She’s not rattled. She knew I was a biker. This shouldn’t surprise her. But still, seeing her hold her own, even in a room like this, makes me like her even more.
We make it halfway across the bar before the sound of fists hitting flesh breaks through the noise. Two of the prospects who helped me put on a new roof are swinging wild and fast near the back pool table. Damnit, Tyler and Moose are usually best friends. Someone yells as a chair goes flying through the air.
Tessa’s arm slips from mine as I stalk over without a second thought, and they barely register I’m coming until I’m between them. “Enough,” I bark, grabbing idiot number one by the collar and shoving him back. He stumbles but doesn’t swing again.
Idiot number two is breathing hard and red-faced. He opens his mouth like he’s going to argue.
I shut it down before he can. “You both just volunteered for gate duty. Starting now. Hope you like the night shift, dude.”
That sucks the fight right out of them. They look at each other, both knowing they screwed up. Tyler mutters under his breath, “We could have been drinking top shelf tonight, but you had to start a fight over a club girl.” They both walk off without another word.
My eyes lift to the one person still standing where they were fighting. Of course, it’s fuckin’ Silver, because it always is. I stare her down for a long minute before raising my voice, “You seem to get some kind of perverse thrill out of getting the prospects to fight over you.”
She opens her mouth to talk back, but I cut her off. “I want you out of this clubhouse until I have a chance to talk to Queenie.”
She has the unmitigated gall to smirk at me. “Gonna go running to your mommy to complain about me?”
The entire room falls silent because literally no one talks to me that way—not even fully patched brothers. They all want to see what consequence I give her.
I’m completely fed up with the one club girl who does nothing but cause trouble for our club. “No, come to think of it,I have a better idea. Remember what it was like when you first came to our clubhouse?”
That reminder causes her eyes to flash with anger. “I earned all my privileges. You can’t take them away.”
I tilt my head slightly, knowing all the way down to my soul that this is the best punishment I could devise for her. “No alcohol and no hanging out with any of the club brothers. And you’re back to kitchen duties and cleaning. If you don’t like it, then you can leave. Just remember that once you walk out on us, you’re perma-banned. Your choice.”
She stands there, making distressed noises, but I don’t care. Turning back to Tessa, I find her standing exactly where I left her. She doesn’t look scared, just curious. Her eyes drop from mine and she glances around the room, like she’s doing some recon of her own. My respect deepens for her, little by little.
I walk back over and hold out my arm, like they do in old black-and-white films. She slips her arm through mine. I tilt my head towards the hallway. “C’mon. We’re heading upstairs. My family all have suites on the second floor. They’re waiting for us. We’re probably holding dinner up.”
As we walk, she comments, “That was wild. Is she always like that? And what was that all about, making her a club servant?”
I like the way her heels make quiet taps on the wood floor as we continue walking across the bar. “The club has history with Silver. She almost got my niece killed. Personally, I would have banished her, but my mom brought her here to try and straighten her out. That’s how we got most of the club girls. They were strays, my mom thought she could fix ‘em all.”
When Tessa’s eyes get big, I clarify, “My mom believes in tough love—that discipline solves most problems—so you can probably imagine what that looks like.”
A wry smile curves up the corners of her mouth. “I’m looking forward to meeting your mom already.”
Chapter 13
Tessa
The stairs creak under our feet as we head to his parents’ suite. Jasper is at my side, his boots making a soft thud with each step. He’s the textbook example of a hot biker, with his muscular form, startlingly blue eyes, and dark shoulder-length hair. I like his personality and how respectful he is.
Being at the clubhouse is also an eye-opener. Jasper is clearly well-respected here. He wears the authority easily, doesn’t hesitate to do what’s needed in the moment. And all the while, he manages to maintain some awareness of where I am. It blew my mind a little to watch him interacting with his club brothers and dealing with that mouthy, disrespectful club girl. It drove home to me that he’s a straight shooter and has zero tolerance for bullshit.
Everything is moving kind of fast, but I can’t think of a good reason to pump the brakes, especially when it comes to meeting his parents. It was my egg that was used in the IVF, so technically I’m the mother of Jasper’s child. It’s only natural for them to want to meet me. I want to meet them as well and do my part to cultivate a good relationship for my child’s sake. He or she is going to need all the family they can get in life.
I try to imagine what they’ll ask. How long have you known our son? What are your intentions? Are you going to keep the baby? Give it away? Break his heart? But mostly, I expect they’ll ask one question in particular. Why would a woman agree to carry a stranger’s child?
Jasper is a very observant man and must have noticed I was deep in thought because he asks, “You okay?”
I nod, giving him a faint smile. “Yeah. I was just wondering if your parents are going to like me.”
His face lights up. “They’re gonna love you. Not only are you smart and beautiful, but you’re also carrying their first grandchild. Trust me, the cards are all stacked in your favor.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “You make me sound like I’m a shoo-in.”
As we reach the landing, the scent of something warm and roasted hits my nose, making my stomach growl. There is also music playing faintly on the other side of the door. It sounds like classic rock.
