Chapter 28

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

SPENCER

I feel like a complete asshole. Standing in front of the bakery, I swallow the lump in my throat, turning my head to look over to Guts, who grunts. He doesn’t hesitate the way I do, though. He moves toward the door, tugging it open and holding it for me.

“C’mon, Spencer. I got a couple cookies with my name on them inside.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod my head, dipping my chin as I move through the door, making my way into the bakery. My senses are filled with sweetness. I can smell the honey and maple syrup, both of which I know Shawn uses for sugar, and the whole bakery is filled with it.

“Hey,” Ryan calls out almost instantly.

I open my mouth to say hello when Shawn steps out from the kitchen. Her eyes find mine, and her expression softens. But beyond a softness, there is pity behind her gaze, and I hate that with a passion. I want to tell her to wipe the expression off her face, but Guts speaks first.

“Got any of those chocolate chip things with cream in the middle?” he asks, practically licking his lips.

Shawn’s gaze flicks to him, and her smile widens. “I do. How many?” she asks.

“However many you have,” he grunts. “And a carrot cake cupcake?” he adds.

Shawn laughs and gathers the items, placing them on a white ceramic plate, then walks it over to the table for four in the corner of the bakery and sets it down. Guts is on her heels, and I watch as he practically runs to the table and sinks down, reaching for the cookie frosting sandwich immediately.

“Want to tell us what happened?” Shawn asks.

I shift my gaze to Guts, then flick it back to meet hers. She nods without me having to say a single word. Then she jerks her head toward the back kitchen.

“Hey, Guts, is it cool if Spencer hangs with me in the back to chat? I have an order I need to work on.”

Guts doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he lifts his hand and waves us away. Ryan watches us walk by, but she doesn’t let me pass without reaching out and touching my arm. Stopping, I turn my head and look at her. She gives me a smile before she speaks.

“I hope it’s good news that you’re still here,” she says in a whisper.

I want to tell her that I won’t be here for long. I want to leave right this minute. I know that Evan talked to her, and he ended things, but for how long? What happens when she shows up at the clubhouse again? What happens when he is pissed at me, we have a fight, or he’s just bored with me?

I want to be able to trust Evan. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’m so close to having every dream that I’ve ever been able to imagine come to fruition. But I would be a fool to just accept mediocre. And this feels mediocre.

“Sure,” I mutter.

Shawn’s eyes widen before she begins to pour ingredients into her big mixing bowl. She doesn’t say anything immediately. She just works on whatever it is that she’s going to be baking next. The scent of cacao reaches my nostrils, and I can’t help but lick my lips because I absolutely love anything chocolate.

“Spencer,” Shawn calls out.

I hum, watching her work. I can’t look away from what she’s doing. It’s mesmerizing. She is a master at her craft, seriously. She is so good at baking, at moving in this kitchen with a sleeping baby strapped to her. It’s just too much. She’s perfection.

Shawn lets out a heavy sigh, her head swinging to the side, her eyes finding mine. Taking a step backward, I almost stumble at the expression she wears. It’s worry, sadness, and it seems almost pained. Gone is the pity, thank God, but the pain… that causes me pause.

“I don’t pretend to know anything about your past or your present. All I know is that Brew looked happy when you came into town. I love that for him, but more for you because I could see a light in your eyes. It was beautiful, but it’s gone now.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. The light is gone in my eyes. I know it is, but my trust is gone, my heart is broken, and my soul is completely crushed.

“He had a ten-year off-and-on thing with her. He never told me about it. How do I just forgive and forget? I look like a fool.”

Shawn shakes her head a couple of times, her gaze finding mine and holding it. “You could never look like a fool, Spencer. Not ever.”

“Except that’s exactly how I feel and look.”

My words come out in a whisper, and I’m not even sure she’s heard me, but then I feel her hand wrap around my forearm. “Seriously, Spencer. You could never look like a fool. It isn’t possible. I just don’t want you to run away out of fear.”

“Is it fear or self-preservation?” I ask.

Shawn presses her lips together and rolls them. She turns back to her bowl and gets back to work on whatever perfect chocolate concoction she has going on. I just hope she lets me taste-test it because my mouth is watering with each new step of her process.

“Don’t do that,” she murmurs. She doesn’t stop working, though, this time, as she scolds me and builds me up all at the same time. I watch her in awe.

“You’re amazing, and from what I can tell, Brew really likes you. I’ve never even met this other woman, but I already know that he didn’t bring her to the clubhouse for protection, ever. That says a lot to me because he made sure you were protected from day one.”

I snort. “Don’t forget I’m Clink’s sister. If something happens to me, he’s in deep shit. I love that you want it to be so romantic and more than it is, but it simply is just not that. I’m sorry.”

Shawn shakes her head, but it’s Ryan’s voice that floats through the room. Turning my head, I look back over my shoulder at her. She’s leaning against the wall, her own sleepy baby strapped to her chest.

“You can try to justify and deny it all you want, but that man is smitten. He hasn’t visited this woman at all since you’ve been here, has he?” she asks.

“So, I’m supposed to be head over heels swoony over the fact that he hasn’t fucked her in a couple of weeks when he’s been fucking her for ten years and neglected to tell me about it?” I snap.

Jealous rage fills my body. It consumes me at the thought of Jasmine again. I cannot handle it. Just the thought of that woman, the fact that he gave so much of himself to her, even if he claims it didn’t mean anything to him. It was so much more than he ever gave me.

Tears fill my eyes, and I can’t stop them from falling. I couldn’t if I tried. They stream down my cheeks, and I feel like an even bigger idiot. Every minute that passes, I feel even more foolish than the last.

“Nobody said you had to swoon,” Shawn says, wrinkling her nose. “But it sounds like you’re mad about something that happened before you were together. How would it feel if he broke up with you because he found out that you were with someone during the ten-year period you were away from one another?”

“I hate every woman Atomic even looked at,” Ryan says, shrugging one of her shoulders. “But I love him more than I hate them.”

I think about those words. I love him more than I hate them . That causes my stomach to twist and then flip. Do I love Evan more than I hate Jasmine? I want to say yes, but part of me says no.

Although I don’t hate Jasmine, the person, because I don’t know her well enough to feel anything for her. I hate what she stands for. She had a part of him that I was too young to have or know.

I hate myself for feeling the way I do about him.

I hate myself for loving him when his interest is clearly not the same as mine. He wants to own me, and I want a Prince Charming kind of love. I’m not sure we’re in the same place, and as more minutes pass, the more foolish I feel.

brEW

Dillion stands in a circle with a group of women. I watch her for a moment. She’s a pretty thing. Too bad her brothers were pieces of shit who got her on our radar. I almost laugh because as much as Atomic claims he doesn’t deal in skin, he’s going to kidnap this girl and keep her.

Then he’s going to give her to Clink.

The whole thing is almost ridiculous, except the betrayal that those fuckers dished out is not something that we will probably ever forget and that Clink will certainly not ever forget or forgive. I doubt he’ll do anything to Dillion, but it’s still our duty to ensure that she is delivered to him.

She will be free for now.

But she will never be too far because we won’t let her be. She will always be on our watch. Always close by and ready for the taking. But since we’re not in the habit of kidnapping girls, she’s going to live her life until it’s time.

Until it’s her time.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I spin around, turning my back to the group of women. Digging the device out, I look down at the screen. It’s a text message from Guts. I know it can’t be serious because he’d be calling me if it was. I also know they’re at the bakery because he texted me when they were on their way.

GUTS: MIGHT WANT TO GET ALL THAT SHIT HANDLED WITH JAZZ. YOUR GIRL IS ON THE FUCKIN’ EDGE.

I would ask him what he means by that, but I already know exactly what he’s talking about. Instead of responding to him about the situation with Jasmine and Spencer, I ask him to do something for me.

CAN YOU TAKE HER TO THE CLUBHOUSE? WE HAVE CHURCH IN AN HOUR.

GUTS: WILL DO.

Walking over to my bike, I start the engine. Then I decide I can’t just ride away without my woman. I pull my phone out of my pocket again to send Guts one more text.

NVRMND. I’LL BE AT THE BAKERY TO GET HER.

GUTS: 10-4

It doesn’t take me long to arrive at the bakery. I wasn’t far from downtown when I was watching Dillion anyway. Pulling my bike in next to Guts’s, I kick the stand down and throw my leg over the side before I walk toward the door.

Tugging it open, I step inside and am immediately assaulted by the scent of sweet goods. Slowly, I twist my head to the side and arch a brow at the sight of Guts sitting like a fat cat at a table with a plate of cookies and cupcakes in front of him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, trying to hide my laughter.

“You know I can’t turn away anything in this place. Fuckin’ amazing, and you know it,” Guts says with a snort.

Shaking my head, I jerk my chin toward the back of the bakery, and he dips his chin in confirmation. Moving around the bakery, I make my way to the kitchen and lean my shoulder against the doorjamb as I watch the women chat among themselves.

They don’t notice my presence immediately, and then they all three stop, turning to face me. I’m a mix of a myriad of emotions and thoughts as I stare at them. But when my gaze lands on Spencer, all thoughts vanish except one.

Mine .

She is and will always be mine. I cannot let her slip through my fingers. Not this time. I won’t have it, either. It will not happen.

I hold out my hand, my palm facing upward and extending toward her. She lifts hers, placing her fingers in mine. Curling my fingers around hers, I tug her against my chest. I can’t look away from her eyes. Although I’m aware that there are other people in the room, I don’t care about any of them.

“Back of my bike, beautiful.”

Her breath hitches. Leaning forward, I touch my mouth to hers. “And I mean that in every sense, Spencer. Back of my bike, in my bed, at my side—my old lady. Nobody else.”

She doesn’t speak. I don’t need words. When her lips press against mine, when her chest presses against my own, I know she is allowing herself this. And I fucking hope she continues to allow this because I won’t let her go. Not fucking ever. I love her. Maybe I always have.