Page 46
Story: Ice
Clothes spill out onto the bed. Jeans, shirts, even a new bra and panty set. I blink in surprise, a small laugh escaping my lips. “You didn’t have to bring so much.”
“This isn’t even enough for a week. Besides, as cute as you are, we can’t have you parading around in Ice’s t-shirts all week.”
I glance down at the helm of the shirt and tug it lower. Sifting through the pants, I’m shocked that everything should fit. “How’d you know my size?”
“Got all the details from Ice,” Blue responds with a knowing smile.
Heat crawls up my cheeks. Ice is always one step ahead.
“Thank you,” I say, genuine gratitude mixing with the odd vulnerability that comes from accepting help. The world of the MC is still new to me, but their loyalty seems to run deep. Now that Ice has me under their protection, I feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s a level of comfort I didn’t realize I was craving.
“Anytime you need anything, let Ice know and we’ll make it happen.” There’s a note of solidarity in her words, making me feel like I’m already a part of their tribe. That’s what the club feels like, one big happy family.
I finger through the options, selecting an outfit. The jeans are buttery soft, as if they’ve been broken in already, but they’re brand new. The tags are still on them. I also grab a flowing, colorful top that looks like an abstract watercolor. It’s gorgeous and looks incredibly comfortable.
“This should work,” I say, setting the clothes aside. I add a deep blue satin bra and panty set to the small pile.
“You don’t have to pick one thing. This is all yours,” Blue says, grinning.
“That’s… It’s really generous, and I appreciate all this, but I can’t take everything. I can pay you back when I’m able to work again.”
Blue shakes her head, a cascade of coppery waves shimmering in the morning light filtering through the curtains. “Don’t worry about it, hon. All these are for you. It’s how we roll here. We’ve got each other’s backs.”
I pause, struck by her generosity. “That’s really kind of you. Thank you.” It’s not just the clothes, it’s the acceptance, and the sense of belonging that comes with them.
“Of course,” she says, glancing at her watch, a hint of anxiety flickering across her emerald eyes. “I’ve got to run. Doctor’s appointment.”
“Everything okay?” Concern edges my voice as I catch the undercurrent of her nerves.
“I hope so. This is my first baby.” She rubs her belly, a protective gesture that speaks volumes. “It feels more real every day.”
“First baby? Congratulations!” A smile tugs at my lips.
“Thank you. I just hope the morning sickness ends before I go into my second trimester. It’s gross and I’m completely over it at this point.” She rolls her eyes.
“Myabuelaknew heaps about herbs for mothers-to-be. I can send you a list of some herbs she used to steep in teas if you’d like?”
“Really?” Blue’s expression brightens. “I would love that.”
We exchange numbers, and she promises to keep me updated on how her appointment went.
“I’ll text you the list later,” I assure her as she heads for the door.
“Thank you,” she calls over her shoulder. Then she’s gone, leaving a lingering scent of honey in her wake.
Alone now, I feel the weight of the MC’s camaraderie wrap around me like a well-worn leather jacket—comforting, protective. I may have been born into a world of ruthless cartel dealings, but here, in this new brotherhood, I find an unexpected kinship. The simple act of dressing in these clothes makes me like I’m a part of something bigger than me, something fierce and unyielding.
I slide into the chosen jeans, the fabric hugging my curves like it’s tailor-made. The soft cotton of the flowing shirt whispers across my skin as I pull it over my head. I fold the rest of the clothes and place as much as I can fit in one of the empty dresser drawers. Before I close it, I gaze at the array of colors and textures. There’s no place to put all the other bags, so I stack them on top of the dresser. It all seems too extravagant for just one person, but I’m grateful. Somehow, I’ll find a way to pay Blue back.
The sound of running water stops, and moments later Ice emerges from the bathroom. Water droplets glisten on his skin, trailing down from his hair to bead on his shoulders. The towel sits low on his hips, a dangerous distraction. My eyes linger longer than necessary, tracing the lines of ink across his torso.
“God, I could eat you up instead of going out,” I tease, my voice huskier than expected.
He chuckles, a deep rumble that resonates through the small motel room. “As tempting as that sounds, Bella, I’m starving. Last night’s workout has me famished.”
His words bring a flush to my cheeks as memories of our entwined bodies flood back into my mind. But hunger—real, gnawing hunger—reminds me that food is indeed necessary.
“Then let’s not waste any more time,” I reply, pulling on a pair of boots Blue thoughtfully included.
Table of Contents
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