Chapter 14

King/Dante

I stood in the middle of the office trying to come to terms with what the hell had just happened. The beer mug that Jagger used as a pen holder now lay in pieces on the floor, and there was a hole in the drywall from the impact of it. I glared at that hole, which seemed to mirror the hole in my gut from Ella walking out.

I sat down heavily in the desk chair, then tipped my head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Uh, everything OK, Prez?" I looked over to find Hawk standing in the doorway, his gaze bouncing between me, the broken mug, and the pens scattered on the floor. His eyes widened when he spotted the hole in the wall.

"It's nothing," I sighed. "Sorry about the mess. Get one of the prospects over here to clean it up, and patch that hole. I need to get back to the clubhouse."

"Sure thing. Tony will be here soon for his shift anyway."

"What the hell's going on in here?" Hawk stepped aside as soon as he heard Jagger's voice, looking grateful as hell that he didn't have to deal with any of this. He whispered something to my son, then ducked around him and clomped back down the hallway.

Jagger came in and surveyed the damage, then gingerly stepped over the broken pieces of glass on the floor. He reached into the mini fridge in the corner and grabbed two bottles of beer, using the bottle opener he kept on his keychain to pop the caps off before passing one to me. He sat down on the loveseat, then took a long pull of his beer.

"I take it things didn't go well with Ella? I didn't see her, but Hawk just told me she looked like she was crying when she left."

"Shit," I muttered, raking my hand over my face. I hated to hear that she was upset enough to cry, although hell, maybe that meant she cared. Fuck, I didn't know what to think anymore. "No, things did not go well."

"If it's because of Simpson, I don't think you need to worry about him. He was a little pissed when you dragged Ella back here, but he was too worried about losing our business to try to stop you. I pumped him for a little info. According to him, they were having a drink to celebrate wrapping up some kind of marketing plan her company's been working on for him. He went out of his way to make sure I knew he wasn't trying to make a move on her."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I fucked up, and now she wants no part of me." I lifted my bottle to my lips and took a swig. The cold beer didn't do shit to help the burning feeling in my gut that started when Ella walked out the door.

"Anything I can do to help?"

I glanced at him over the rim of my bottle. "No, but thanks for giving me a heads up that she was here." I took one last sip, then set the half-full bottle down on the desk. Getting drunk had the potential of fucking things up more, as Rome had proven last fall.

"No problem. Anything I need to know about whatever you and Trick were doing for the last few days?"

I hesitated, then glanced around the office. "Nothing that can't wait until after Church Sunday."

Jag nodded, understanding that I wanted complete privacy before saying anything.

"All right. I need to get back out there before Hawk is up to his ass in customers. See you Sunday."

I got in my truck and just sat there for a moment, wishing like hell I was on my bike. I needed a good, long ride to clear my head, and the idea of going home didn't appeal at all. I knew I would just sit there staring at the walls, brooding over Ella.

So, I headed to the clubhouse instead. The place was starting to fill up with brothers and hangarounds ready to blow off steam at the end of a long week. The music was thumping out of the sound system, and DD was enjoying the attention she was getting as the new bunny around here. Saint, Buck, and Skid were buzzing around her like bees to honey, as Cowboy would say.

Star waylaid me on my way into the common room, giving me a flirty smile as she thrust her chest out so far that her tits were about a millimeter away from falling out of her top completely.

"I missed you around here, Prez. Cowboy said you were sick. I would have been happy to come over to take care of you."

"No sense in you getting sick, too."

"But I could have made you feel better," she said throatily, leaning closer to make herself heard over the music. I eyed the tits on display, then looked into her pale blue eyes. She bit her bottom lip and peered up at me through her lashes, her body just inches from mine, and for a brief second, I considered using her to try to fuck Ella out of my system. That thought was washed away by a wave of revulsion, followed by guilt that I'd even let the notion enter my head.

"Not happening, Star."

Her eyes widened in surprise, then she turned and flounced off with a huff toward the corner, where several of the brothers had gathered to watch Diamond take a twirl on the pole.

I shook my head as Ace reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. She gave him a big smile, then shifted so that she was straddling his lap. It didn't take long for him to hook a finger in the front of her top and give it a tug, exposing her tits. He licked his lips, and I looked away in disgust. Yep, it was official. No matter what happened with Ella, I would never, ever touch Star again.

I took a seat at the bar and spent the next ten minutes or so nursing the beer that Linc had given me. Someone sat on the stool next to me, and I turned my head to see Cowboy staring at me in concern.

"You look lower than a flea on a rat's ass. Is it Ella?"

I rolled my eyes at him and his stupid question.

"Yeah, it's fuckin' Ella…and fuckin' Star...and fuckin' everything."

He shook his head and looked at me. "Yeah, that tells me exactly nothin'. What the hell happened? I thought things were lookin' good for you two." He had to raise his voice to be heard as someone cranked up the music.

I sighed and took a swig of my own. "It was, until I fucked up by not calling her – "

I was interrupted by cheers and catcalls and looked over my shoulder to see that DD had joined Diamond up on the tiny stage. Their bodies moved together, and it looked like they were getting ready to put on a show. My cock showed zero interest, and the music was giving me a headache.

"Dammit, I can't even hear myself think. I should have just fuckin' gone home," I told Cowboy. He studied me for a few seconds, then motioned up the stairs.

"Why don't you fill me in upstairs, and I'll see if I can help you sort things out. I just need to get something from my office, and I'll meet you up there."

I left my now-warm beer sitting on the bar and made my way upstairs. After unlocking my door, I grabbed a fresh beer out of the fridge tucked in the corner of my room, then sat down at my small table and cracked it open. A minute later, Cowboy entered and shut the door behind him, holding a plastic container with a lid.

"This might cheer your grumpy ass up, especially since the brothers ate the ones she dropped off Monday." Before I could ask what he was talking about, he set it on the table and snapped off the lid, revealing at least two dozen cookies. "Sinner brought these by this morning, and I stashed them in my office for safekeeping. Apparently, Ella went on a baking spree Wednesday night."

Fucking hell, like I needed another reminder of the woman. I eyed the cookies, glaring at Cowboy as he lifted one to his lips and devoured half of it in one bite.

I downed a big gulp from my bottle, then snagged the container and pulled it toward me. I needed something to soak up this beer, I reasoned, and this would probably be the closest I'd get to tasting Ella ever again.

"So, tell me what happened," Cowboy prompted.

I ate three cookies as I told him what went down at Inferno, and what Ella had said. Maybe he could help me figure out what the fuck to do next.

After I finished recounting what happened – her run-ins with Star on Monday and Tuesday, me bailing on her after we had sex to go to the meeting at Fallen Angels, and me inadvertently ghosting her for the past three days. Once I was done telling him about the scene at Inferno tonight, he gestured for me to hand over the container, then grabbed a handful of cookies before handing it back to me.

"Ok, let's put aside the issue of the shit job you did communicatin' with her for a minute. What the fuck was Star doin'? Sounds like she was tryin' to lay claim to you, man."

"Beats the fuck out of me. Shit's been weird with her lately, but she said she assumed Ella was a one-and-done who was looking for more. Said she figured she was doing me a favor by getting rid of a clinger for me. I set her ass straight, and then explained the situation to Ella."

"Did she believe you weren't fuckin' Star?"

I shrugged and ran my hand through my hair in frustration. "She said she did. She even teased me about having women chasing me. She wasn't thrilled about finding Star's half-naked ass sprawled out on my desk the next day though, and I can't blame her for that."

He nodded and munched on another cookie.

"Duckin' out on her after having sex Monday was not a good look for you, especially when you dipped out after gettin' sucked off on Tuesday. You can't pull your usual fuck-and-duck routine with a woman like Ella."

"I know that, dammit, but on Monday night I was just thinking about getting to the meeting with Rossi on time. You know how that asshole gets if he thinks he's being disrespected, and it's not my fault that we got interrupted Tuesday so I could deal with that lying motherfucker at the garage."

"I know, but you could have explained that to her." At my sharp look, he shrugged. "Shit, I'm not saying you should have told her that you were meeting the head of the local mafia, but you could have made it clear that you would rather have stayed with her." He chuckled then and shook his head. "And the fact that you had to go to a strip joint two nights in a row is just fuckin' bad luck and bad timing, man."

"It sure as hell didn't help," I agreed bitterly.

"Now, as far as you not contacting her, she's right. That was a boneheaded move, brother."

I started to protest, but he held his hand up and talked over me.

"You should have given me a heads up. We would have sent a text from your phone tellin' her you were sick. It's the same story we gave everybody else, and I doubt she would have questioned not hearin' from you for a day or two then." He took pity on my ass when I looked confused and frustrated.

"Look, I get it. You've never done this before, and you have no idea what to do with a woman unless you're in bed with her, but you can't do that shit, man. Women love communication. It's like the number one fuckin' rule of relationships." He took another sip of beer and brushed the cookie crumbs off his T-shirt.

"It's hard when it comes to club business, but you can make it work with the right woman."

"BeBe couldn't do it, and she was raised in the club," I pointed out.

"King, you know I loved your sister, but she wasn't cut out for the MC life, and it made us both miserable more often than not. She had a hard time with it, but I think a lot of that stemmed from Ace's appearance in y'alls lives. It was hard on BeBe, because she worshipped your dad. When she found out about Ace, it knocked Sinner off his pedestal a little in her eyes, and she was pissed as hell at him because Frankie was hurtin' all over again with the reminder of his cheatin'. It didn't help that Ace was a complete cunt to her from the day they met, either. He showed her every single bad side of bein' in the club. BeBe came to distrust everything about the MC, includin' me over time. It's not always like that though, and you know it."

I exhaled deeply, trying to take in what he was saying.

"Brick and Theresa have made it work for over fifteen years. With the exception of the shitshow last fall, Rome and Abby make it work, too. Molly and Michelle are both gettin' the hang of it. It can be done. It just takes a lot of reassurance from you, and a fuck-ton of faith and understandin' from her."

"I think the faith part is going to be tough for her, after the shit her asshole ex-husband put her through. The bastard cheated on her, more than once, I think. He's put her through the ringer with divorce and child support, too."

He reached behind him to get a bottle of water out of the fridge, then cracked open the top and took a big swig. "Yeah, havin' been through that, I can see why she would be leery of the reputation MC's have, especially with the club girls hangin' around. Michelle tolerates ‘em, but she doesn't have that kind of baggage in her past. I think it also helps because she knows I've never touched ‘em."

He never had, even when he was single. He didn't like the thought of having sex with women who'd been with most of the other men in the club. Can't say I much cared for it either, to be honest. He munched on another cookie, looking thoughtful.

"She mentioned not wantin' to just hook up. Does she know you want more?"

I shot him a look of surprise, and he laughed. "I know you man, and I've never seen you this sprung over a woman, not even that drug-addled, she-devil you married. Ella isn't just one of your random fucks. The question is, does she know that?"

I stood up and started pacing around the small space, running my fingers through my hair in frustration.

"When the fuck would I have had the chance to tell her? When I was chasing Pic's ass all over the country, or when Ella was giving me the brush-off and waltzing out the goddamned door?"

"If you want to see where this goes, you gotta make her listen to you."

"Don't you think I tried?" I shouted, swiping my pillow off the bed and launching it at the wall. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as throwing the beer mug in Jag's office had been, but it was a lot less messy, and it didn't leave a hole in the wall.

"So, try again." Cowboy popped the last of the cookies in his mouth. "Hell," he said as he chewed, "for cookies this good, keep tryin' and don't fuckin' stop ‘til you change her mind."

He heaved himself off the loveseat and ambled from the room without another word. I sat there for a while, thinking over everything and trying to come up with a plan because Cowboy was right. Hearing Ella tell me goodbye and seeing her walk away from me had brought things into focus for me.

She was much more than a hook-up. She wasn't even a short-term fling. I had a feeling in my gut that she was meant to be mine and I was pretty damned sure that she felt the same way, if I could just get through those fucking walls she'd built back up again.

She was running scared, and I couldn't blame her for that. In her eyes, I wasn't exactly a safe bet for a woman who had been cheated on and taken for granted.

It was a good thing I'm a stubborn bastard who knows how to fight hard and fight dirty. This was one challenge I was going to win. I just needed to figure out how, exactly, to do that.

A few minutes later, I left the clubhouse and headed home, hoping the peace and quiet there would help me think. It didn't, and I ended up tossing and turning for a good part of the night, only to be awakened by a text a little after eight in the morning. It was Rome, checking to see if I was home. When I responded that I was, he told me that he needed to stop by in a little while to talk something over with me.

"Put some clothes on, too. I'm bringing breakfast and I don't need to see you in your boxers while I eat," he demanded.

I snorted and tossed the phone back down on the nightstand. I hoped to hell that whatever he needed to talk about, it wasn't bad news.

I took a quick shower to revive myself, then dressed in my usual jeans and T-shirt. I'd just poured myself a cup of coffee when I heard the sound of motorcycles nearing the house. I was pleasantly surprised to see not only Rome, but Jag, too, and they both had their women riding with them.

I opened the door to greet them, giving Abby and Molly hugs since they got to me first. Rome and Jag brought up the rear, after retrieving paper sacks and a small box from their saddlebags.

"We stopped at that new bakery and brought all kinds of goodies," Abby said as I stood aside to let her in.

"Their coffee cake is fantastic. I made Jag buy two, so we'd have leftovers," Molly told me as she followed Abby inside.

Rome and Jag didn't look nearly as chipper as their wives did, but they both trudged through the door and dutifully set the food on the counter as directed.

It didn't take long for us to fill our plates and settle in around the table. I bit into the coffee cake, and Molly was right. It was damned good, and I idly wondered if Ella ever made any. If she did, I'd bet hers would be even better.

"So, what brings you all here at this time of the morning? Everything OK?"

Rome and Jag both rolled their eyes and reached for more food. Molly and Abby looked nervously at each other, clearly having some kind of silent conversation between themselves before looking challengingly at their husbands.

Rome jumped, and I suspected that Abby had kicked him under the table. He glared at her, and she tipped her head towards me, giving him a look that said she meant business. He sighed in defeat, then put his fork down.

"This is an intervention since our sweet wives have decided to stick their nosy asses into your love life – "

"Against our better judgement," Jag interjected, and Rome nodded.

"Yes, against our better judgement, and they made us come here so we could help you fix whatever you fucked up with Ella."

Molly and Abby just glared at their men, then glanced at me apologetically.

"It's not that we think you messed up," Molly began, only to be interrupted by Jagger.

"Yes, we do." When Molly rounded on him, he held up a hand to placate her. "I'm sorry, angel, but I was there, and what I didn't see, Cowboy told me about when we stopped by the clubhouse last night. He definitely fucked up."

"Well, we don't need to rub it in, Cole," she chided him, then turned her gaze on me. "We don't mean to overstep, King, but we wanted to help if we could."

"He needs all the help he can get," Jag joked under his breath to Rome, who snickered, then sobered and nudged his oblivious twin when he noticed Molly giving them both her best schoolteacher stare, complete with one raised eyebrow. That look had been known to put the fear of God into kindergartners and grown men alike.

"What your idiot sons mean is that they would like to share what they've learned about relationships, in the hope that it will help you work things out with Ella."

I tried to hide my smile at Abby's comment about my idiot sons. "And you two are here for moral support?" I asked, motioning to her and Molly.

"No, we're here to make sure they don't make things any worse," she said with a grin, and Molly nodded, before adding, "God only knows what advice they'll give you if they're left unsupervised."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Jag and Rome protested in unison, as they often did, but their women just laughed.

"OK, so what is your plan to win Ella over?" Abby asked, sliding her half-full plate to the side and leaning toward me.

Before I could say a word, Rome slid the plate back in front of her, telling her to finish her breakfast while we talked.

"I've had more than enough," she argued. "I need to fit into my dress next weekend, remember?"

Rome didn't care for that comment at all. "Baby girl, we've talked about this. The dress will be fine, and I love every fucking inch of your curves. Apparently I need to give you another demonstration when we get home."

"Caleb!" she gasped, then giggled as she blushed and ducked her head.

"Eat your breakfast, sweetheart, and we can talk about my plan," I told her with a gentle smile. I'd noticed she'd lost weight over the last few months, and knew it had a lot to do with goddamned Paisley getting into her head a few months back. I wished to hell I'd thrown that bitch out of the club when she'd tried to give Molly shit last fall.

Abby pulled her plate closer and took a bite of the flaky pastry. Rome flashed me a grateful smile, then dug into his own breakfast again.

"OK, I'm going to start by getting flowers for her again. Then I figured I'd ask her to give me another chance."

Abby stopped mid-chew, and darted a wide-eyed glance at Molly, who was biting her lip to keep from laughing.

"Um, well, flowers are a good start," Abby said diplomatically. "I think we might need to work on fleshing out the rest of the plan a little though."

"A little ?" Rome and Jag asked in unison again, with the very same inflection in both their tones that caused Abby to roll her eyes.

"Knock that twin shit off. You know it gives me the willies."

"I'll give you a willy, baby girl," Rome murmured to her suggestively, and waggled his brows like a jackass. Jagger started making gagging noises from the other side of the table.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, bro? How do you expect your woman to marry you again when you're referring to your dick as a willy?"

Molly and Abby snickered as Rome flipped Jagger off. Once everybody settled down, we returned to the matter at hand.

"King, from what I understand, Ella is concerned about life in the MC. I get it. It was a shock for me, and it took a little while for me to really be comfortable with everything. Maybe if Ella gets a chance to know the kind of man you really are, she wouldn't be as concerned with all the rest."

I nodded thoughtfully, thinking Molly might be on to something.

"I agree. Club business and the secrets that go along with it are sometimes hard for me to deal with even after all these years. When you add in the club girls hanging around, well…it's a lot." Rome hung his head, and Abby reached across the table for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. I knew that Rome would regret his actions for the rest of his life, and I was so damned thankful that Abby was giving him another chance.

"Show Ella that you're serious about getting to know her," Molly suggested, and Jagger nodded, then added his own suggestion.

"You know, when I was trying to prove to Molly that I wanted an actual relationship with her built on more than just sex, I put a sex ban in place. For two weeks, we just dated, and I took her home at the end of each date without anything physical happening."

"Longest two weeks of my life," Molly muttered, and Jagger flashed her a satisfied grin.

"Hell yeah, it was. I had the worst damned case of blue balls ever. But, when it was over, you knew I was serious about wanting more with you. I would like to point out that you insisted on ending the ban, not me. I would have held out as long as I had to, angel."

She arched a brow and looked at him pointedly. "Well, I would have held out for another few days, at least," he admitted with a shrug.

For some families, talking so openly about sex might seem strange. For bikers, it was no big deal. I wondered what Ella would think about this conversation.

"OK, so flowers, getting to know her, keep my hands – and everything else – to myself. Anything else?"

"Put the fucking bunnies in their place now rather than later. Lay down the goddamned law to them that you and Ella are off limits, period." Rome followed up his quiet statement by leaning over and kissing Abby's temple. She closed her eyes, then gave him a bittersweet smile.

"Absolutely," Jagger agreed, and I nodded. I definitely didn't want a repeat of any of the drama Abby and Molly had dealt with.

"What kind of flowers are you going to get for her?" Abby asked. At my blank stare, she and Molly traded looks again.

"Don't worry," I assured them. "The old lady who runs the flower will help me figure it out. Ella loved the flowers she suggested the last time."

I should probably be insulted that the four of them looked relieved that I wouldn't be choosing the flowers on my own, but they were right. I needed all the fucking help I could get.

Two hours later, I found myself at Dorothy's shop, with Cowboy in tow. I wasn't thrilled that he was here, but he'd shown up at my house shortly after the boys and their wives had left. I suspected that one or both of my sons had texted him to clue him in about their little relationship intervention, but the fucker wouldn't cop to it. Short of knocking him off his bike – which I momentarily considered – I had no choice but to allow him to follow me to the flower shop.

Dorothy was finishing up with another customer when we walked in, but she looked up and gave me a wide smile when she recognized me. As soon as the customer left, I wasted no time getting to the point.

"I need another bouquet."

"Oh dear, she didn't like the first one you gave her, or is this for another occasion?"

"She liked it just fine. I just, uh," I swiped a hand along the back of my neck as I glanced at Cowboy for help. He gave me a shit-eating grin, then answered for me.

"You see, ma'am, my friend here messed up again, so he needs somethin' really nice to go along with his latest apology."

Dorothy tsked under her breath, then gave me a disappointed shake of her head.

"Another butthead bouquet then, Mr. Morgan?"

Cowboy laughed so hard he almost choked on his own spit, and I glowered at him before flashing my most charming smile at the old lady.

"I'm afraid so, Dorothy. Any suggestions for something that says I'm sorry I fu – uh, messed up – and I'd really like to see you again?"

Dorothy pursed her lips to try to hide her smile, but Cowboy didn't bother as he leaned on the end of the counter and laughed out loud.

"Well, you're in luck, because I am a sucker for a good courtship. I'd be happy to help you find something to woo your special lady. Do you want to go with wildflowers again, or have you learned her favorite flower, by chance?"

I shook my head, feeling as useless as tits on a bull. I racked my brain trying to remember what kind of flowers she had in her front yard, but I could only remember what color they were.

"She likes red flowers. I'm not sure what they are, but she has a bunch of them planted in her yard."

"Yeah, that's helpful, brother," Cowboy chortled.

"That's something to start with," Dorothy assured me, shooting a reproving glance at Cowboy. "Perhaps we can look at these catalogs right here, and something will jump out at you. Would you be interested in the symbolism behind the different kinds of flowers?"

She took in the blank look on my face, then glanced at Cowboy to see the very same expression, before trying to hide another smile.

"There are different meanings associated with different kinds of flowers, or sometimes with the color of a flower. Red roses generally mean romance or love, while yellow roses denote friendship, for example. Perhaps we can find something that conveys your feelings?"

Well, fuck. That would mean I have to know what my feelings are. Dorothy took pity on me, and started leafing through her flower book, stopping here and there to tell me what certain flowers were supposed to symbolize. Cowboy got in on the act, and we finally found something we could all agree on.

"Thank God that's settled," I said as I fished my credit card out of my wallet and handed it over. Cowboy suggested I have them delivered, so that Ella didn't have the chance to throw them in my face. I took a second to mull over his idea, and decided he was probably right. Dororthy assured me she could have them delivered in just a few hours.

"You will need a card to go with them," she said, pointing to a display rack of little note cards.

I briefly wondered what the fuck I had done in a previous life to deserve this kind of fresh hell, then snatched a card off the rack and grabbed the pen she handed me. After a minute, I wrote a message, feeling like the world's biggest pussy, then stuffed it in the little envelope and slapped it on the counter.

"There. Are we done here?"

She handed me back my credit card and smiled. "For today, anyway. Good luck, Mr. Morgan."

Cowboy gave me shit as we both mounted our bikes, and I took great pleasure in flipping him off as I revved my engine and hauled ass out of the parking lot. I headed to the compound, while Cowboy turned the opposite way toward his house. My stomach was rumbling by the time I pulled to a stop in the crowded parking lot, reminding me that it was lunchtime.

The common room was filled with a half dozen brothers, a few hangarounds, and the club bunnies as I made my way into the kitchen to find something to eat. I fixed myself a sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips from the oversized walk-in pantry, then snagged a bottle of iced tea and headed back into the common room. Spotting Lucky, Viking, Sinner, and Brick starting a poker game, I sat down with them to eat, and watch them play.

Twenty minutes later, I was finished eating, and Viking was down fifteen dollars.

"Have you been takin' lessons in countin' cards from Molly?" he grumbled to Lucky, who grinned and scooped up pile of small bills in the middle of the table.

"I can't help it if Lady Luck is smiling down on me. She's literally part of my name, man."

"Lady Luck, my bony ass," Viking snorted, taking a sip of the beer in front of him.

"Quit bitchin' and shuffle the damned cards, you old fart. It's your turn to deal." Sinner told him, and Viking flipped him off in response. If I had a nickel for every time those two had flipped each other the bird, I'd be a rich man by now. It was actually one of my earliest memories as a little kid – getting scolded by my mom for imitating my dad and the man I then called "Uncle Viking" by flipping off the little shit who had lived across the street from us. He'd gone whining to his mommy, and I'd gotten a smack on the seat of my pants with one of Mom's house slippers.

I was eventually roped into the game when Brick left to go pick up one of his kids and then spent the next few hours hanging out with my MC brothers and losing sixty dollars to Lucky, who was still on a winning streak.

My phone finally buzzed with a text notification a little after four-thirty, and I smirked as I read her text. I responded but she was clearly retreating. That's OK. I'd let her…for now.