Page 140

I resist the urge to fidget with my own outfit—a short black leather skirt paired with a vintage band tee cropped just below my ribs, all topped with a leather jacket Sophie had insisted I wear.

“Cade . . . saved our lives,” Maria says, her voice catching as she glances down at the table. “He brought us here to lie low. And when I decided I didn’t want to leave, he bought us a cottage just down the hill.”

Her voice wavers and she still doesn’t quite meet my gaze. But it’s painfully obvious how she feels about Cade. The way she says his name—soft, almost reverent. Like it’s her lifeline. Like it’s the only thing pulling her through her own private hell.

The flicker of guilt that rises in me is unexpected. My earlier jealousy feels petty in the face of this, and I want to take back every dirty look I threw her way.

Although Maria seems too soft for this place, the way patched members nod to her as they pass our table shows she’s earned her place here.

I force my tone to soften and offer her my first real smile. “I think you’ve settled in well, and Victoria . . . seems very happy.”

Maria’s face lights up at the mention of her daughter, her beam so warm it catches me off guard. “Oh, yeah. She’s spoiled for attention here. And protected.”

She tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and as if emboldened by my sudden warmth, she ventures, “Cade doesn’t talk much, does he?” Her tone is casual, but there’s a curious edge beneath it.

I arch an eyebrow, tempted to lead her down a maze of wounding facts and half-truths, as per usual, but Maria doesn’t deserve any bitchiness—or seem like she could handle it.

“No, he doesn’t,” I agree simply. Although Cade doesn’t need so many words.

Just this afternoon, Cade had dozens of Bliss Xtra samples delivered—apparently a “gift” from me to the club. The Secretary’s stunned grin said it all. Cade’s reasoning? His brothers didn’t always warm to newcomers, and he figured I’d need an icebreaker.

Maria’s fingers tap softly against her glass. “He’s a good man, though. The best of them.”

“Hmm.” I take a long drink, my non-response deliberate.

She huffs softly. “Cade just gives so much—too much—of himself, and he never asks for anything in return.”

It almost feels like an accusation—like she’s suggesting Cade is giving me more than he’s getting back.

Truth is, he probably is.

“I care about him, too.” The words feel tepid, a pale shadow of the truth clawing at my ribs. But hell if I’m going to start defending my relationship to Maria. I’m hanging on by a thread, just trying to play nice.

I glance away instead, letting my gaze drift across the room—and that’s when I notice it. Two, then three pairs of eyes trained on me. Slowly, I swivel my head. More than half the room is now staring openly, their gazes unguarded now that the booze is flowing freely.

I instinctively straighten my leather skirt again. It’s short and flared with wide pleats, paired with a vintage band tee cut off just below my ribs and a leather jacket—all courtesy of Sophie’s insistence. It’s edgy but nothing outrageous.

“Does Cade not bring women here often?” I wince at how insecure the question sounds, but I need to know the problem with these bikers.

Maria chuckles softly. “Now and then. But that’s not why they’re looking at you, Luna.” She leans forward, resting her elbows on the polished wood table. “It’s because . . . well, Cade never gets involved with the women he brings here. With women, in general.”

The beer bottle stops halfway to my mouth. “What do you mean?”

A wan smile tugs at her lips. “Cade saves women. He’s protective, but that’s it. To him, we’re—I’m— a project. Which is frustrating when you’re trying to get him to stop being so noble and see you as something more.”

Her candor takes me by surprise. The shift in her—emboldened, almost challenging—unsettles me. It’s as if my thawing attitude has given her permission to test boundaries she wouldn’t dare cross before.

“Now you . . .” Her dark, assessing gaze sweeps over me. “He’s breaking those rules for you.”

I cock my head. “I don’t know what you mean by—”

“Please.” Her smile turns wicked. “These walls are thinner than you think.”

Heat rushes to my face as the memory of this afternoon slams into me. After the meeting with Nico, I’d practically attacked Cade the moment his door clicked shut. I can still feel the rough pressof the door against my back, his mouth hot on my neck as I begged him to fuck me . . .

Oh shit.

I might as well have handed out front-row tickets. And judging by the smirks, every single one of them knows exactly how hard I came.