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I open my mouth to tell him about Aspen purposely calling him away, but I don’t want to hurt him. Still, he should know the truth.

“What, baby?” he presses, gently pushing my curls off my forehead.

“Pippa said she asked Aspen to call you, to lure you away from me. I don’t know if it’s true, but…”

The air in the room instantly shifts. “She did that?” he whispers, his brow furrowing as his eyes shut.

“She did. I’m sorry, Haze. I considered not telling you because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“No,” he replies, giving my hand a soft squeeze. “Always tell me, Luella. Always. That’s it, she’s done.” He places a soft kiss on my cheek and then takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I owe my club brothers a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

“You’re not perfect, Haze. And neither am I. We will get through it.”

“You are perfect to me,” he replies, his lips moving to my knuckles.

“I’m not. I run my mouth a lot.”

“I like your attitude.” He grins.

“I overthink…”

“I don’t mind overexplaining.”

My heart melts.

“I think baking solves all life’s issues.” I smile.

“That’s not a flaw, baby girl. I love that you’ve found your passion in life. And you are damn good at what you do.”

“I love you, Haze.”

“I love you more, Luella. Even if you have a fucking pet spider in the shower that you won’t let me kill.”

“Leave Harry out of this.”

He shakes his head and runs the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “Fucking crazy about you. Never going to let anything happen to you again.”

“You better fucking not.”

He smiles, and that dimple pops out.

And all is right in my world again.

LU

FOUR WEEKS LATER

There’s a party at the clubhouse, and all the members are present. Ora keeps smiling at me, but I have no idea why she’s extra happy tonight. Maybe War did something amazing with his tongue.

I’m in the kitchen cutting up the caramel slices I made when someone speaks in a deep tone from behind me.

“You know if something happens to Haze, the bakery, and all his money goes to you,” Suit says, pulling out a chair and sitting with his legs spread and hands threaded together like some mafia leader. He’s not in his suit and tie for once. No, tonight he’s not the lawyer but the biker in all black and leather. His cut looks good on him.

“I don’t need his money,” I reply, wondering if that’s what he’s getting at. I’m not a gold digger. I haven’t asked a man for anything in my life, and I’m not about to start now.

His steel-gray eyes are framed by thick black lashes. “He wrote this will years ago when he bought the bakery.”

My eyes widen in surprise as I look back down at the slices. I get what he’s telling me. Haze was always going to give me everything. Even if he had never spoken to me again, and our last contact was the kiss he gave me when I was sixteen.