Chapter 7

7

ROM

M y breath was stuck in my throat as I waited for her answer. I honestly wasn’t sure I could follow through with my promise to take her home if she said no.

To my utter relief, she smiled shyly and nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay tonight.”

You’ll stay forever. I decided not to say that out loud yet.

I laced our fingers together and guided her to the back door of the bar. When you walked inside, you could go down the hall, past the bathrooms and the entrance to the kitchen, and you’d find yourself in the bar. However, before that, there was a door on the left that led to my office and one on the right that opened to an indoor staircase that also led up to my apartment.

Someone called out my name just as I opened the door to the stairs. I sighed and turned back to see Ireland hurrying toward me. The purple-haired rocker chick was the old lady of another brother, Breaker. Her band played at Liquid Silver frequently, and she helped me out by playing bartender from time to time when I was in a pinch. Breaker was never far from her, and I spotted him leaning against the wall at the opposite end of the corridor, watching his woman.

“Hold up, Rom,” she huffed as she hurried…more like waddled, down the hallway. “I can barely freaking walk with the giant babies you bikers put in your old ladies.”

I chuckled. “Hey, Ireland. What’s up?”

She rubbed her swollen belly and started to say something, until she noticed that I was with someone. Her eyes rounded, then bounced back and forth between me and Layla a few times before she grinned.

“Don’t worry. It’s not his,” she said, and I glanced down to see Layla watching her with a shocked, wary expression. At Ireland’s reassurance, Layla’s tension eased.

“Damn straight,” Breaker growled as he stomped up behind his woman.

I rolled my eyes. “Layla, this is Ireland and her old man, Breaker.” I tucked her into my side and looked back at my friends. “This is my woman, Layla.”

Breaker raised an eyebrow, and I nodded, then he lifted his chin in a silent “congrats” sort of way.

Ireland grinned and took a step toward my girl, but I sighed loudly, causing her to halt and throw me an exasperated look. “Janine is out sick,” she informed me, referring to the drummer in her band. “But I called in a favor, and Midnight Run is going to take our place this weekend.”

My jaw practically hit the floor. Midnight Run was a multiplatinum group of rockers who were currently touring with Stone Butterfly, the hottest rock band in the world. “Midnight fucking Run, Ireland? You serious?”

“Yep. They happened to be stopping in town to visit Nixon’s sister.” Nixon was the band’s drummer.

“How the fuck…?”

Ireland smirked. “I know people, bro.”

Breaker snickered.

Ireland tossed him a disgruntled frown. “Okay, I know the best friend of the lead singer’s girlfriend.”

“Wow.” Layla stared at my friend with the same shock and awe I was sure showed on my face.

“Damn, Ireland.”

Ireland grinned and winked at me. “I would ask if I’m the best ever”—she glanced at Layla—“but I have a feeling I’ll always be at least number two from now on.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Baby, you said five minutes to talk to Rom. It’s been six,” Breaker grunted as he curled his arm around her. “You need to get off your feet.”

Ireland pressed her lips together in a half-annoyed, half-amused expression. “Almost done, babe,” she responded sweetly. “Also”—she looked at me again—“you’re out of silver tequila. I put in an order for the same amount as last time since I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

I frowned. “Why didn’t Deeanna do it?” Deeanna was my assistant manager. She was married to one of our prospects and had been working at Liquid Silver as a bartender. When I took over, I promoted her. She was a hard worker, reliable, and trustworthy. So I was surprised to hear that she wasn’t around to help. Breaker was probably going to kick my ass for making Ireland work in her condition.

“Janine gave her the same flu,” Ireland admitted with a grimace. “She was here and determined to stay, but I was afraid she’d pass out or end up in the hospital, so I called her man and had him force her to go home.”

“Fucking hell,” I muttered. I’d just brought Layla home, and I was going to have to basically ditch her in my apartment while I worked. Fuck.

“Relax, Rom,” Breaker chimed in. “Erin is filling in at the bar. Scout and Cat are handling the management shit. All good. Go be with your woman.”

“Thanks,” I said to them both…meaning it a little more to Ireland because…Midnight Run. Damn.

After they left, I finally took Layla up to my apartment above the bar. It was a decent size, with two bedrooms and two bathrooms—soundproofed to preserve the occupant’s sanity—but I'd start looking for a new place tomorrow. I didn’t want my pregnant wife living above a bar. And I intended to get my ring on Layla’s finger and my baby in her belly as soon as possible.

I gave her a quick tour—there wasn’t much to see since I’d been living at the clubhouse until six months ago—then got her settled on a couch in the living room with a blanket and the TV remote. “I’m going to grab us some dinner from the kitchen. Put on whatever you want.”

As I moved to the door, I glanced back and saw her looking around curiously. “You can snoop all you want, gorgeous. Unless it’s club business, I have no secrets from you.”

Her answering smile was soft and sweet, making me want to taste her mouth. So I got my ass outta there before I skipped dinner in favor of the bed. I needed to feed my girl so she had plenty of energy for the rest of the night.

I returned with burgers, fries, and a salad for each of us, and we ate while we watched a sitcom that caused Layla to burst into laughter frequently. The sound sent pleasure streaking through me, straight to my painfully hard dick. I would have been surprised at my body’s reaction to her laughter, but I’d quickly learned that everything she did and said turned me on.

Luckily, the show had distracted me just enough so I didn’t obsess over the little sounds of delight she made. And my jealousy of her fork as it slid in and out of her mouth. I barely held on long enough for her to finish her meal.

Once I’d discarded all of the trash and taken care of the dishes, I returned to the couch and dropped down on one end. Layla was curled up in the middle and I wrapped my arm around her, hauling her over so her side was plastered against mine.

Her head fell back, and I gazed down into her dark-brown pools. They were bright with a happy glow, but desire also burned in them. Seeing her need turned the rest of my control to ash. I picked up the remote from the coffee table and shut off the television before grasping Layla’s hips and shifting her over to straddle my lap.

I cradled her face in my palms, and my eyes roamed over her features. “Know you don’t quite believe me yet, but you are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I want you to know that about yourself, but I also like that you don’t notice the way other men look at you.”

Layla’s skin flushed, and she licked her lips, making me groan in anticipation of tasting them again. “Could you…um…would you show me?”

My brow furrowed, not quite sure what she was asking. “Show you the men who are drooling after you?” Not a fucking chance in hell.

“No, um…” Her gaze dropped to my chest, and her face heated even more. “Show me how beautiful you think I am?”

A wicked grin spread across my face. That I will abso-fucking-lutely do . “You asking me to fuck you, baby?”

I loved how adorably shy my question made her. But the flare of hunger in her chocolate orbs when her eyes lifted to meet mine again convinced me she was ready for more.

“Yes,” she breathed.