Page 15 of Thunder

“Already?”

“Babe, Sofia is a badass bitch lawyer when she needs to be. She doesn’t waste time,” he says. I blink. I can’t imagine Sofia being anything other than sweet and gentle. “The club has her on retainer for a reason, even before she got together with Demon.”

He restarts the car and takes us home. Just as he said, Roscoe picked up the list and was back within the hour with everything that I wanted. I thought Roscoe was leaving for the night, but then I saw him sitting outside in his car.

“Why is Roscoe still outside?”

“Protection, Rosie.”

“Is he going to be there all night?”

“Nope, Hammer will be taking over later,” he says without batting an eye.

“Should we invite him in for dinner?” I ask, not knowing the biker protocol for protection duty.

Thunder laughs. “Yeah, sure. If you want. I’ve never known Roscoe to refuse a meal.”

“Don’t laugh at me. I’ve never needed guarding before. I don’t know how this works,” I say, exasperated.

He comes farther into the kitchen and braces his hands on other side of me, against the counter, closing me in.

“You’re cute,” he says. “And sweet. And funny. Everything about you makes me want to kiss you senseless. I haven’t laughed as much in years as I have with you in the last two days. I would kiss you, but that means that dinner is going to go to shit. This is the plan: I’ll get Roscoe, and we’ll eat. When Sofia and Demon are gone, I’m going to finally get the taste of Rosie that I’ve been dreaming of for years.”

I swear my panties are wet. I want to toss the spaghetti and meatballs out the window, then call Sofia and tell her to come tomorrow because I want his kiss so badly. He touches his lips to the hinge of my jaw, then leaves to call his brother for dinner.

* * *

All through dinner, I think about his promise in the kitchen. It’s a good thing the guys were involved in their own conversation and my sparkling wit wasn’t necessary. I could barely touch my food, but the way Roscoe and Thunder inhaled it, I assume it must have been good. I like to cook. It’s something I find soothing. I’m not nearly as good as my mother, but I try very hard.

“A good sauce is what makes the meal,” she used to say when it comes to pasta, and she’s right. Pasta is pretty plain until you dress it with the right combination of herbs and tomatoes, then the simplest of meals turns into an explosion of flavor for you to enjoy.

Roscoe is an easygoing guy with a big heart. Willow told me about how he worked hard to put his sister through school on his own. I ask Roscoe how he and Willow met, and he replies, “I was forced off the road, and these men who were pissed that I took their friend back to jail were coming back to finish the job, when a golden-haired angel came to my rescue.” The story gives me goose bumps. Roscoe is as protective of his girl as Thunder is of me. And when it comes to Willow’s safety, Roscoe doesn’t take any chances. I can see why she is head over heels in love with him.

I’m serving dessert when the doorbell rings. Sofia and Demon have arrived.

“Tell me there’s more of that,” Sofia says, her gaze fixed on the bowl in front of Roscoe. He moves it closer to himself, digs his spoon in, and takes a bite.

“I made a mixed berry crumble. There’s plenty for everyone,” I tell her with a grin. I get two more bowls and fill them.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” Sofia says, leaving the guys at the table. Once we take a seat, Sofia takes a bite. “Mmm, this is heavenly. This is as good as Hanna’s.”

“That’s high praise. Hanna’s desserts are the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Sofia pats my knee, a soft, reassuring touch. “How are you doing?”

“Truthfully, this has me a little rattled,” I admit. “I poured my savings into Petals. My life was finally where I wanted it to be.”

“You’ll get that back,” she says, sounding very sure of herself. “I’ve had a chat with the insurance company, and they’re cutting a check in a couple of days. I sent them Risk’s estimate. They balked a little, and then I sent them two other estimates that were significantly higher, and suddenly, they agreed to pay out. I’m having a courier pick up the check to make sure they don’t delay the process. That much is taken care of.”

“They never work that fast. I’ve heard stories of people waiting months before they get a payout,” I say in astonishment. “You’re a miracle worker.”

She laughs. Sofia is beautiful, but she’s more than that. She’s kind and generous. I’ve heard Demon talk about all the pro bono cases she’s taken on for those who can’t afford legal counsel. I also know that she volunteers at the youth shelter once a month.

“No miracle, just common sense,” she says.

Feeling close to Sophia in that moment, I tell her something I haven’t told anyone else. “I loved my sister, but I hated what she did to our family,” I whisper. “She didn’t only destroy her life, she was slowly killing my parents. Mom cried every night she didn’t come home. Dad waited up in a chair until all hours of the night, only after cruising the streets looking for her. I saw what it did to them. It was awful.” I pause, my lower lip trembling. “Do you know what it’s like to be woken up by a police officer at the door telling you that they found your sister dead in an alley? I should have felt something other than anger. I was so mad at her. I’m still angry for what she did to our family. Then to have men show up at the house and harass Mom and Dad for money… A lot of money, I might add. That was the last straw. I just stopped feeling for her.”

“She was sick. Addiction is an illness. It’s hard to find your way out,” Sofia says, taking my hand.

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