BEAR

The Clover Club is a dive on the south side of town and not an ideal place to meet Natasha. Somehow, Siobhan convinces the Kovak family to go along with the date idea by claiming the place is popular with cop whores. If this public date is about sending a message, our enemies will hear it faster this way.

In reality, Hunter Knutsen's band—Super Stacked Bimbos—plays here on Wednesday and Friday nights. The three besties want to hang out together while I'm the excuse they get to use.

I ought to be irritated about that shit. Except I want to see Natasha again, and everything needs to be scheduled. I can't just ride over to her house and talk. Even calling her is complicated. I've tried twice. Both times, she was in the middle of something with the kids or her family.

Natasha feels out of reach, except for her regular texts. She always tells me goodnight. I like how I'm on her mind at night. It's the only thing keeping me from losing my temper about how this engagement is one long fucking tease.

I'm looking through my texts from Natasha when Tack arrives with Siobhan on the back of his hog.

As they find a spot in the parking lot, I notice an asshole on the street is eyeballing me while manhandling his date. I think the chick was checking me out because he's calling her a whore. When he says some shit about my diseased dick, I lunge for the asshole. Of course, he takes off running, leaving his woman behind.

"He was my ride," she whines to me as Tack and Siobhan head our direction.

"Have some respect for yourself," I growl in response and slap cash in her hand. "And take a fucking rideshare home, dumbass."

Once the woman wanders off, Siobhan swoons into Tack's arms. "Please tell me that's the kind of romantic discourse we can look forward to this evening, Bear O'Malley."

"Why are you already riding my ass?" I grumble, refusing to settle down until I see Natasha.

Siobhan ignores my nasty tone and smooths out my black T-shirt under my vest. "You look handsome tonight. Very appealing. Natasha's panties will likely explode with lust."

My temper switches off under the power of her compliments. Siobhan is more acidic than her mom, but she still wields the kind of soft touch capable of bringing a rough man to his knees.

"You're going to make an asshole happy one day," I tell her while Tack studies the traffic speeding by.

Tugging at her clingy white T-shirt, Siobhan smiles up at me. "I'm planning to flirt a lot tonight. No cockblocking," she says and then points at Tack. "None from you either."

"I thought you were here to supervise their date," Tack asks and frowns at the arriving convoy of black SUVs.

"As the mother of twins, I'm an ace at multitasking. I'll chaperone the date, support my drummer bestie, and find me a man. I really am the modern woman at her best."

Once the line of SUVs pulls up to the curb, the front doors instantly open. Several men hurry to the middle vehicle's back door and escort Natasha out. I'd be annoyed by the over-the-top display of Kovak power if I weren't transfixed by her.

Gorgeous as always, Natasha wears faded blue jeans and a "Be Kind" pale blue T-shirt. She looks casual, yet I'm very aware of how her clothes aren't her usual baggy getup. These jeans fit her ass perfectly, and the thin shirt clings to her perfect tits.

My dick instantly aches, remembering exactly what it's missing. No woman's ever felt half as good as Natasha did. Two years wasn't enough time to kill the addiction, and I can't wait for another taste.

I'm on her lips as soon as she walks over to Siobhan. Natasha flinches under the power of my need for her. She presses her hands against my chest as if to stop me. But she never pushes me away. Her lips hungrily meet mine.

I only let her go when I remember her busted lip. Her face looks better than at my house, but the skin hasn't healed completely yet.

"I'm not apologizing," I mutter when I notice Siobhan snickering at me and Natasha staring like I might be too much man for her to handle. "I haven't seen you in days."

"Maybe you can send him selfies," Siobhan suggests as we move to the club's black, double front door.

"I'm not sending nudes," Natasha insists and frowns at me.

"I don't need a picture to remember what you look like naked."

Natasha seems startled by my desire and hostility. I'm also a little surprised by that second one.

I suspect I'm irritated by the size of the security detail sent with her. Tack and I can handle whatever threats might pop up, yet my chaperoned date now has more supervision than I was expecting.

Once inside, Natasha stops staring at me and hurries over to see Hunter. Siobhan ditches Tack for the same reason. The three besties chat next to the stage.

Hunter looks at me and then Tack. She gives us head nods and warm smiles. I wasn't sure what to make of the rich redhead when she started coming around our local haunts. Tack was into her instantly.

Though they've long been hot for each other in a pretty obvious way, Hunter is cold inside. She just cut Tack loose once he said the wrong thing. I like Hunter well enough as a person, but I don't know why Tack keeps his dick locked away for her.

Of course, she's looking damn hot tonight in her camo pants and a beige tank top. Her red hair is shortish but not boyish. She's got it mostly hidden in a backward cap.

"Why are you in such a bad mood?" Tack asks me.

"Natasha's here to see them, not me."

"I think you got hit in the head too much when we were growing up. There's something seriously wrong with your brain's processing skills."

Shoving up against him, I growl, "I don't want to be stupid alone. Here, allow me to pound your skull in, jackass."

"Focus on the prize, Bear," he says and gestures at where Natasha peeks at me while Siobhan flirts with some rando.

Tack isn't wrong. I know I'm getting what I want, yet I can't settle down.

"I'm afraid to believe in this thing and have it fall apart again."

"If it does end, do you really want your last time with Natasha to be you fussing about like a cranky kid? Why not enjoy the ride until it crashes and burns?"

Despite his sensible advice, I'm still agitated once we're seated at a table halfway between the bar top and the band stage. Siobhan continues to talk up a tall, scrawny guy with shitty tats and a goatee. I want so badly to tell her to up her standards, but I don't dare voice my feelings. Natasha seems to be waiting for me to say something to piss her off.

"You look hot," I tell her while she sips her pi?a colada.

Natasha snickers at my compliment before laughing harder. I frown at her amusement. I'm ready to complain when she scoots her chair closer.

"You sound like you're trying to pick me up at a bar."

"I am."

"You already won my attention."

"But you do look hot."

Natasha glances down at her tits and then back at me. "I was trying to look relaxed."

"You failed. You just look hot."

Natasha smiles and tugs her chair closer as the band prepares to start their set. I expect her to say something. Instead, she only admires me while wearing a soft smile.

Siobhan returns to the table in a huff and drops into the chair next to Natasha. My woman's gaze peels away from me to focus on her pissed friend.

"What's wrong?"

"I was nailing that down and then Dumb and Dumber showed up," she says and juts her thumb behind her where Indigo and Golden stand way too close to the skinny guy with the bad goatee.

"No big loss," Tack tells her. "The guy had a girlfriend."

"How do you know?"

"He kept looking around as if worried someone would spot him talking to you."

Siobhan's exaggerated eye roll nearly sends her out of her chair. Natasha hugs her friend and whispers reassuring crap to her.

On the stage, Hunter's drums start off the song, and the lead singer—a dude who most definitely isn't stacked, though he might be a bimbo—begins singing a rough and rowdy version of "Ain't No Sunshine."

Siobhan finally stops pouting and shooting hate daggers at our club brothers. Bouncing in her seat, she hugs Natasha.

Relieved to have Natasha within reach, I wish I could also hug all over her. Instead, I keep my hands to myself and admire the soft smile she wears.

By the time the band plays a rock version of "I Write the Songs," Natasha has finished her drink and is inching closer to me. I stare into her eyes, willing her to erase the space between us. She obeys my silent pleading and ends up in my lap.

"I kissed you too hard that first day," I babble, since I'm looking for negative shit to zero in on rather than enjoy the feel of her leaning against me.

"Will you wear a tux to the wedding?"

"No."

"Will you wear shoes?" Natasha asks, staring into my eyes.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I sense a hippie vibe about you, Bear O'Malley. Have I read that wrong?"

My scowl goes sideways when I realize she's fucking with me. I'm about to smile when her lips are on mine. Her blonde hair has never felt softer. I wrap my arms around Natasha, trapping her body against mine. Sighing, I realize her tongue tastes like pineapple just like the first night we kissed.

The band blows through several cover songs while I keep Natasha on my lap. I can only see her. She's all I feel. No one else exists in this place.

When a moron decides to start a fight in a club filled with bikers and armed security, the crashing bodies nearby can't drag my focus from Natasha.

My lips leisurely entangle with hers. Only when my hand slides up the back of her shirt does Siobhan interfere by slapping my arm.

"No under-the-clothes action," Siobhan insists and wraps her arms around Natasha to tug her away.

"Mine," I growl at my sister.

Unleashing her most intimidating look, Siobhan hisses, "I had her first, spud."

Natasha glances back at her friend and then studies me. "How about we compromise by leaving me on Bear's lap for a bit longer but keep his hands out of my clothes?"

"No deal," Siobhan replies. "Compromise is for greasy French fries. I'm crispy rather than limp. That means I win."

Natasha looks at Siobhan, unsure how to argue with such logic. I help her out by telling my sister.

"There are other men in this bar. Go throw yourself at one. It'll keep Indigo and Golden's blocking skills sharp."

Siobhan looks like I've stabbed her in the heart. She falls back in her chair and rests against Tack who is watching the band.

"My heart hurts. I've only shown love toward my brothers, yet they're causing my romantic death through a million cuts."

Natasha vacates my lap and hugs her friend. At first, I worry this chaperoned date will turn into a therapy session. Then, I catch Natasha and Siobhan whispering and giggling to each other. The two women look at me in unison and smile.

"You're going to marry my brother," Siobhan says and tugs Natasha closer.

As the women share a chair and Hunter's band finishes their first set, I try to visualize myself in a month. The wedding will be over. That event is what I'm most leery about since I don't want to dress up or feel on display.

It'd be different if I could have a fun wedding like when Pork Chop and Carys tied the knot. She wore his club vest, T-shirt, and shorts. He went shirtless. It was a hot day. We ate sticky BBQ ribs and grilled corn on the cob. The Hills Chapter was there, wrestling in the mud like pigs. Aunt Fred got drunk and danced around with Elvis all night. That wedding was a real fucking party.

My wedding will be uptight with food I don't like, music I won't want to listen to, and people I don't know.

But at the end of the boring evening, I'll get to keep Natasha. Her kids will move to my house. My cats will have new people to trip.

I can have the family I want in the house I bought back when this dream felt out of reach.