Read Untitled Book 2 Online

Authors: Chantal Fernando

Untitled Book 2 (18 page)

“Don't underestimate her,” Vinnie says in a dry tone. “She's a fuckin' ninja.”

“I believe it,” I say, smiling. “So first stop . . . how about a jewelry store? Tiffany's? Or maybe we can get her a designer bag, what woman wouldn't love one of those?”

Vinnie cringes but nods his head in agreement. “I can't even wait in the car while you run in because of those fuckin' assholes looking for you. I swear, I'm going to kill them just because of this.”

I roll my eyes at how dramatic he's being and lean over to press a kiss into his rough cheek. “You'll survive, Vinnie. I'll be as quick as I can.”

TWENTY-FIVE
Vinnie

I
WAIT
outside the store, watching everyone who enters and leaves. There's only one entrance/exit so there's nowhere else she could leave from, just in case someone decided to try something. Chances are slim, of course, but better to be safe than sorry.

My mind wanders to Shay, who is happily making an effort to give a woman she only just met a birthday surprise. I don't think I've met anyone like her before. She's always present, always eager to help. Usually upbeat, even though if I'm being honest, her life is in shambles right now.

When I check the time and see that she's been in there for twenty minutes, I decide to go and check on her, just in case. She said she'd just be in and out, but she is a woman after all. When I glance around the shop and can't see her, my heart starts to race.

Where the hell could she be?

I dial her number, but she doesn't pick up. Did someone take her? How? Unless there's a staff back door that they were able to leave through. I'm about to call for backup when I see her standing in the corner, talking to a woman.

“Shay,” I growl, ready to take all my worry out on her. She sees me, eyes widening, and says something to the woman before meeting me halfway across the room. I grip her upper arm and all but drag her out of the store. “I thought I lost you.”

“I was right in there,” she says, brow furrowing. “Sorry I took so long.” She holds a little bag up in her hand. “There was a lot to choose from. I think I found her the perfect one though.”

“I almost had a heart attack,” I say, exhaling deeply, trying to slow down my heartbeat. My hand lets go of her arm and moves up to her nape.

“You thought someone got to me inside a store that only has one exit at which you were standing?” she asks, the look on her face telling me that I'm overreacting.

“Well, you were in the fuckin' corner of the store, a blind spot where I couldn't see you, so what else was I supposed to think?”

I let go of her nape, but she reaches up and touches my arm with her hand. “I'm sorry. Nothing happened, as you can see. Next time, I'll be quicker.”

My anger all but disappears. “Next time I'm coming in with you.”

My fear of losing her is higher than my dislike for shopping, and I feel fuckin' stupid for letting her go in alone in the first place. From now on, she doesn't leave my sight.

“Okay,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “We'll be joined at the hip for all future shopping endeavors.”

See? Upbeat.

She's one of those always-look-on-the-bright-side people, and it's contagious.

I open the car door for her, and she flashes me a little smile in return. I wait until she gets in, close the door, and then make my way to the driver's side.

I think Shay's the only woman I've ever opened the car door for.

I don't bother to question why that is, I just get into the car and drive us to the next place on the list.

TWENTY-SIX
Shayla

A
FTER
changing my mind and finding Faye the most perfect gold bracelet instead of a handbag, we buy the decorations and everything else on the list. It takes about two hours, and then we're back at the clubhouse.

“I really hope she likes chocolate cake,” I say as we get out of the car.

“It's universal” is his reply.

“What are we doing for the rest of the day?”

“I have to go into Rift to do some work, along with a few other errands. Tracker and Rake are here, so you'll be safe.”

“I know,” I reply. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt safer than since I've been at the clubhouse. “I'm going to do some training with Colt. He already knows sit; next I'm going to teach him how to lie down.”

“Where are the other two?”

“Faye took them back to her house,” I say, grabbing the balloons and banners out of the car while Vinnie takes the large box full of alcohol and plastic utensils.

“I can't believe you got a piñata.”

“The kids will enjoy it,” I say.

Vinnie opens the door for me, following me inside. “Faye will probably enjoy it too, who are we kidding.”

We hide everything away where she won't stumble upon it, which ends up being in Vinnie's room. Vinnie heads off to work while I spend the rest of the day outside, chatting with Tracker and Rake and training Colt. Tracker shows me some techniques he used to train Lana's dog, Evie, who was here last week before the pups came. I cook dinner for us, and some extra for Vinnie or anyone else who happens to be stopping by. I've noticed that I never know who will be here on any given night, but that someone is always here. After a long, hot shower, I read in bed. Vinnie gets back to the clubhouse at around ten, smiling when he sees that I'm still awake.

“Tracker said you cooked dinner,” he says, removing his clothes and jumping into bed with me.

“Yeah, steaks, potatoes, and asparagus. How was work?” I bury my face in his neck. “And why the fuck do you smell like cheap perfume?”

I lift my head to glare at him and I catch his grimace. “Shay—”

It hits me right now that we've never actually had “the talk.” We've never spoken about his not being with other women; I just assumed he wouldn't. But he is a biker, so I probably shouldn't have. Although the other men in the clubhouse seem to be nothing but loyal, I'm not Vinnie's old lady, and we haven't even been together long. Or whatever we are. Another issue, we have no idea what the fuck we are. If he slept with someone else, however, I'll take my chances with the Mafia.
I'm not sitting around here and putting up with that, no way, no how.

“Tell me what you did tonight, and think
very
carefully before you try and lie,” I say slowly, the threat clear.

“I have no reason to lie,” he says, staying calm. He sits up and looks me directly in the eye. “I told you I had to go check on a few of the businesses, and one of those happens to be a strip club.”

I grind my teeth together. “You were at a strip club? So what, were you out testing the merchandise, or something?”

His jaw goes tight. I don't know why he's suddenly getting angry. It's not like I spent the night around a bunch of naked men thrusting their bits and pieces in my face.

“I didn't sit there and enjoy a free lap dance, if that's what you're asking. I was mainly in the office, looking over some figures, chatting with the bouncers—we just hired three new ones, and a few of the women came and said hello, and gave me a hug, that's it.”

“Really?” I say, dragging the word out, the disbelief in my voice palpable. “Just an innocent little hug? That's it? They didn't try and proposition you in any way? Or rub their tits against you? Is that what you're saying?”

I knew I was acting like a psycho girlfriend, but I was feeling a lot of emotions, none of them good, and didn't know how to control them.

He grabs me and pins me underneath him. “Of course they rubbed their tits on me, but I didn't give a fuck because I knew the only tits I wanted to see would be waiting for me in my bed. Did I look onstage? Yes. I'm a man. Did I do anything wrong? No. I didn't, and I wouldn't. You think I'd bring you here to
be with my family, to be with me in my bed, in my world, and then go out and cheat on you? If I wanted other pussy, then I wouldn't have stepped up and claimed you as mine.”

We're both breathing heavily at this point, eyes locked. His say that I should've known better, and mine say that he didn't even tell me they owned a strip club, so his visit was kind of sprung on me. If he explained it beforehand, I wouldn't have freaked out like this. His lips slam down on mine before I can finish processing my last thought, and his hands are touching me all over my body. Our clothes land on the floor, and I soon find out one thing.

I really love makeup sex.

Or was it angry sex?

Either way—it was fucking amazing.

TWENTY-SEVEN

“S
URPRISE!”
we all yell as Faye walks outside.

She looks around, her eyes wide and her jaw dropping open. “Oh my god!”

We all cheer, hug her, and wish her an early happy birthday. “How the hell did you manage to pull this off without me finding out? No one can keep a secret around here.”

“We didn't tell anyone until they arrived here today,” Sin says, glancing up at me over her head. “It was Shay's idea, actually. She's the one who organized it all for you.”

“Way to make us look bad,” Tracker teases, hugging Faye and kissing the top of her head. “You're going to love our present best.”

“I'm sure I'll love them all; thank you so much,” she says, her eyes starting to water. “Stupid hormones!”

“Now she's all humble,” Sin adds, laughing. “In the car she was saying how annoying it is couples give presents together, otherwise she'd have double the amount.”

Faye shushes him, then says, “This is really amazing every
one, thank you. And, Shay, thank you for organizing it. I'm so happy Vinnie found someone as great as you.”

My face goes bright red as everyone cheers to that. I look behind me at Vinnie, wondering how he is taking that comment, but all he does is wink at me. The DJ starts to play, and everyone dances, including the kids. I sit next to Rake and Bailey with my plate of food, while Vinnie dances with Clover. Seeing the two of them together is so damn adorable. I don't have any experience with children, but the sight makes me a little clucky, so I decide to look away and concentrate on the delicious food on my plate instead. I pick up a mini quiche and take a bite.

“This quiche is the best I've ever had,” Rake groans, shoving a whole one in his mouth.

“Thanks.” I grin, taking a bite of my own. It's actually the only thing I made, everything else I ordered in. The sandwiches, homemade sausage rolls, and platters were catered by a local bakery Vinnie and I came across.

“You made this?” he asks, already devouring another one. “It's the shit, Shay.”

“I'm glad you like it,” I say, my smile turning sad. My father used to love them too. It's nice that other people can enjoy them now, but it still hurts that he's not here, and will never be again.

“Your turn,” Vinnie says, offering me his hand. “All My Friends” by Snakehips, Tinashe, and Chance the Rapper plays. “May I have this dance?”

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