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Does Luella see what a mess I am? How I lost my way after Aspen lost hers? Does she ever think about her?

“So, will I move into your house with you?” Daisy asks, pulling me from my thoughts. “The clubhouse might not be the best place to raise the baby.”

I take a deep breath. “If the baby is mine, we will discuss it then.”

She’s not moving into my house.

Her head snaps to me like the chick from the exorcist. “I told you it’s yours, Haze. You don’t believe me?”

“I know at least four of my brothers who have been with you in the last two months, Daisy,” I say, clearing my throat.

“It’s yours,” she snaps, tears pooling in her eyes.

She’s been trying to lock down one of the men since she arrived here years ago. She recently had her eyes on War until he fell in love with Ora, and then she turned to me. I think she realized she’d never get a property cut, so she tried a different avenue.

I’ve done many fucked-up things in my life, but knocking up a club whore when the woman of my dreams is now back in my life would have to take the number one spot.

But baby or not, Luella is going to be mine.

LU

After Haze leaves with his baby mama, I finish up in the kitchen and go to the bar to have a well-deserved afternoon drink. My life was so much easier before Haze stormed back into it—I ran my bakery, casually hooked up with men now and again, and kept everything simple. My emotions never ran high like this, and it’s been such a long time since I haven’t felt in control. It’s no secret that I can be a bit of a control freak outside of the bedroom, but being around Haze has me feeling like a fucking teenager again. Back then, I had to watch him with the girls he dated—now it has escalated to watching him be with club whores, one of whom he’s managed to knock up.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you drinking alone for?” Blade asks, pulling out the stool next to me and taking a seat. He’s wearing a white T-shirt with his leather cut over it, light jeans, and biker boots. But the sexiest thing about him? He’s wearing reading glasses. He’s like a real-life Clark Kent, nerdy and badass, and knowing he’s extremely smart and the club’s resident tech expert just adds to his allure.

Best of all?

As far as I can see, he’s nothing like Haze.

“Just enjoying this place being empty for once,” I tease, and he grins, his green eyes flickering with amusement.

He pours himself a glass of scotch and rests a muscled arm behind me on the bar. Why don’t I feel something more for this man? When he touches me, I don’t feel the spark that I do with Haze. Maybe I could try? Perhaps that spark with Haze is nothing but a warning from my body, telling me to make better decisions and stay away from him.

Maybe I need calm.

Blade pushes an errant curl away from my face. Sparks don’t fly, my pulse doesn’t race, but I do feel relaxed. Serene. And right now, that’s all I can hope for.

“How’s the catering going?”

“Good,” I reply, staring at him over my glass. “Keeping me busy, anyway.”

Ora helps me out, even though War would prefer her to be resting all day. She’s pregnant with their first child, and if I thought he was protective before, he’s now taking it to a whole new level.

“That cake you made last night was incredible,” he says, licking his lips, and I grin. I’d made my famous chocolate cake because Ora mentioned she was craving a slice. No one can say no to that cake. It’s sweet, moist, and covered in delicious buttercream frosting. Bones proposed to me when he’d tasted it. Haze looked like he wanted to murder him with his bare hands.

“I’d offer you the last slice, but Ora might kill us both.”

He grins. “As much as I’d love to have it, I think taking food away from a pregnant woman is a crime.”

Ora steps into the room, perking up when she sees me. “There you are,” she says, her flowing black maxi dress swirling around her ankles. She’s wearing gold bangles on her wrist, and they jingle with every step. She stops in front of us and smiles at Blade. “Hello, Blade.”

“Ora, you’re looking beautiful today,” he answers, winking at her.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She smirks.

“Flattery will get him killed,” War calls out, stalking up behind his woman and wrapping his arms around her. Like Ora, he’s dressed in head-to-toe black—a T-shirt with his cut over it, faded jeans, and biker boots. He buries his face in her neck. “Fuck, I wish I didn’t have to leave right now.”

“You need to let her out of the bedroom sometimes, War,” I tease, pulling her from his arms. “She was mine first, you know.”