Page 40 of Cinder (MC Fables #2)

E lla

The following morning, I arrive at the clubhouse early and get straight to work so by the time Mrs. V.

appears in the kitchen, I’m already halfway through my chores.

Coffee pot on. Egg mix ready for the breakfast scramble and hash.

Dinner pies made and in the refrigerator. Potatoes peeled for dinner.

“Okay, who are you and where is my usual kitchenhand,” she says, walking past me to put her purse in the pantry.

“Huh?” I murmur, preoccupied with buttering toast.

“The one who burns water and doesn’t know her salt from her pepper.”

Oh, her .

Yeah, she evaporated in a cloud of humiliation.

“Just doing my job,” I say, adding more butter to the toast.

I figure if I keep focused, I won’t feel like a fucking fool for practically begging Lars to deflower me last night. My stomach twists at the memory as I recall it with vivid detail. Me grinding against him, telling him I want him to be my first. And the crushing rejection that followed.

My cheeks burn, and I practically degut the slice of toast I am buttering with violent strokes.

“What did it ever do to you?” Mrs. V. asks, watching the toast massacre.

“Huh?” I ask, and when she points to the mess I’ve made, I put the knife down. Dammit . “I’m sorry, I’ll make some more.”

Mrs. V. waves me off. “Let me do it. You clearly have something else on your mind. What is it?”

“Nothing,” I say, moving away from the counter so she can take over.

She holds up a piece of toast that dangles in pieces from her fingers. “Doesn’t look like nothing. What has that boy gone and done now?”

My eyes dart to her. “Who?”

She gives me a pointed look. “Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about. I might be old, but I’ve got eyes and ears, and I can see what’s going on between you and Lars. ”

I begin to unpack the freshly delivered pastries box and place them on a big plate. Bear claws. Glazed. Double fudge. These will be gone by midmorning. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Lars.”

I want you to be my first.

Ugh, that’s going to haunt me until the end of time.

“Like I said, I have eyes and ears, and I know that boy hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since you started.

And don’t think I don’t know that’s why he hired you.

Stupid fool was obviously thinking with his little brain when he offered you the job.

But at least this time he got it right. You’re a good worker and having you here might just work out. ”

I can’t believe it. The grumpy old boot is actually being nice to me. An unfamiliar warmth spreads through me, and I give her a big smile. “That’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me, Mrs. V. Don’t tell me you’re getting soft in your old?—”

“I’d think very carefully about how you finish that sentence,” she warns as she finishes buttering the toast. She bends down to put them in the oven to keep them warm before people start showing up for breakfast. When she straightens, she brings her attention back to me.

“Truth be told, I have never seen Lars show any interest in any woman for more than an evening. Never thought I would see the day that he would pursue one, let alone fall for one.”

“Oh, he hasn’t fallen for me.”

I don’t want to be anyone’s anything.

His words ring in my ears .

“Hmph.” Mrs. V. shakes her head. “You must be blind or just plain stupid if you can’t see how that boy can’t help himself when he’s around you.

If you’re in the room, his eyes are on you.

If you’re talking with any of his brothers, he’s one wrong word away from upending the table if one of them speaks out of line, or heaven forbid, puts a hand on you. ”

She’s wrong. Lars doesn’t have feelings for me.

And it’s a good thing.

He was right to turn me down.

Because I will be gone soon, and this place will be nothing but a memory.

I breathe in and then let out a deep exhale. Yep, that’s a good way to look at it. Why complicate it with anything else?

I’m about to reply when Sticky and Dani walk in, kissing and pawing at each other like they can’t get enough of each other.

Mrs. V. rolls her eyes as we watch them kiss all the way across the kitchen to the dining table.

But they don’t sit. They continue to kiss each other fiercely and moan like they’re starving for one another.

Mrs. V. clears her throat, and they stop kissing long enough to look in our direction. Dani looks kiss-drunk, while Sticky looks put out by the interruption.

“Sorry, I’ve been working the night shift at the radio station,” Dani says, taking in Mrs. V’s disapproving expression.

They’re an interesting match. Sticky is old jeans and motorcycle boots. While Dani is wearing Chanel and a pair of Louboutin heels .

“And I’ve been counting the minutes until she got here,” Sticky says to us, then turns back to look at Dani. “Told her we needed to get some breakfast because she’s going to need all her energy for when I get her back to the bedroom.”

They both do that aroused chuckle couples do when they share a dirty inside joke, and all Mrs. V. and I can do is stare at them thanks to the graphic image he just gave us.

They start kissing again, and it’s very physical. I half expect him to bend her over and do her on the table in front of us. And they’re so vocal, I might have to bleach my ear drums later.

Mrs. V. clears her throat again, and the lovebirds reluctantly part. And it reminds me of the night Lars and I met and how Balls and his date fell into the room kissing and interrupted our moment.

“Might I suggest you take this to your room,” Mrs. V. says sternly. “Maybe send down for room service later.”

“I thought room service was only for the Prez,” Sticky says.

“I think we can make an exception today, Sticky, for all of our sakes.”

Dani looks up at Sticky and they both chuckle again, and then he lifts her up in his arms and carries her out of the room.

“What do they call him Sticky?” I ask.

“Because he could steal your lips from under your nose without you realizing it. Been in and out of prison for robbery before he joined the Knights. ”

“And Dani?”

“She works at the radio station. Got quite the following. Belle used to be a nanny for her little girl, Aurora. Dani and Sticky met a few months ago through Belle, and next week they’re getting married.”

Mrs. V. disappears into the pantry for something while I finish up the dishes.

Other people start coming in for breakfast. Bikers. Old ladies. Club girls. You never know who is going to show and who isn’t. Some bikers are out taking care of club business while some are getting some shut eye. Others are doing exactly what Dani and Sticky are about to do.

But this morning, there’s quite a few of them around the giant dining table.

Including Beast and Belle, and their daughter Lucy.

As I wash pans and tidy the counter of breakfast dishes, I watch them eating breakfast with the others. The perfect little family among a chaos of bikers and club girls.

Beast clearly only has eyes for his wife. And his level of scariness drops when he looks adoringly at his baby daughter. But it’s easy to imagine how terrifying he’d be if anyone tried to hurt his wife or child. I’d bet my life he would go from zero to demon in a matter of seconds.

I look at the club’s first lady, envious of her confidence and uncomplicated life.

She’s beautiful, with a heart-shaped face and a thick blonde plait hanging down her back.

Her eyes are big and bright blue, and her lips full and glossy.

She looks like a Disney princess. Except she’s dressed in a pair of tight jeans, knee-high boots, and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt.

God, the way Beast is looking at her tells me exactly what he’s going to do to her when he gets her back to their room. And by the way she’s looking back at him, she’s going to let him do whatever it is he wants.

Everyone is getting laid.

I glance to my right and see Mrs. V. smiling and uncharacteristically laughing with Mr. Peters the milk delivery man. This has been going on for weeks. They’re like two sharks circling each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

Yep, everyone is getting dick but me.

I put my head down and focus on finishing the dishes. I tell myself I’m not waiting to see Lars. Because I don’t want to see him. I don’t. But if I do, I’ve already decided I’m going to act like last night never happened.

But when the breakfast crowd thins and it becomes clear that he’s not going to show, I feel the disappointment sink in my stomach.

“It’s not unusual, you know?” Mrs. V. says when everyone has gone and the last of the dishes have been put away.

“What isn’t?”

“Lars not showing for breakfast. Sometimes he has to take care of club business late into the night and catches up on his shuteye.”

“Despite what you think, I wasn’t waiting to see him. ”

“Yeah, and bears don’t shit in the woods.” Mrs. V. shakes her head. “This is going to be painful to watch.”

“What is?”

“You’re both as bullheaded as each other,” she says, walking away. “Can’t admit to feelings when they’re as bright as sunshine.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I call out after her.

But she doesn’t turn around and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

With still an hour left on my shift, I set about tidying the butler’s pantry, putting away the different ingredients I’ve used for breakfast as well as the pots and pans.

I’m reaching on my tiptoes to put away a jar of seasoning when I feel him. It’s like my skin begins to tingle, and I know he’s there before I even see or hear him. I glance over my shoulder and there he is, standing in the doorway looking fifty shades of fucking gorgeous.

Immediately, my defenses go up and I get even busier stacking away the ingredients and arranging the spices.

“Good morning.” The deep timbre of his voice slides over my skin like a slow kiss, and I swallow hard.

“Morning,” I say, concentrating on the spice jars being in perfect alignment. Which no one gives a shit about. But I can’t bring myself to look at him.

“You’re pissed at me,” he says calmly.

“What gives you that idea? ”

I’ve now decided the spice jars are going to be arranged alphabetically.

“I can feel the frost over here,” he says.

He steps inside the pantry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”

“Look at me,” he says.

But I don’t, because if I put the cumin before the basil, the world might end.

“Ella.”

Lars saying my name catches me off guard and I look up. Damn .

I cross my arms as if to protect myself from him. But it’s futile. Nothing could protect me from Lars.

“It’s okay to be pissed at me. I hurt your feelings, but I didn’t mean to.”

He comes closer, but I back away. “You’re making it a big deal when it’s not.”

“Oh, it’s a big deal. And I’ve come to make things right.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He closes the space between us, and I’ve run out of pantry and feel my back touch the brick wall behind me. He towers above me.

“By doing this,” he says, and then he does what I’m not expecting him to do.

He cups my face in his big hands and kisses me.

Fiercely . I try to fight him because I’m still hurt from last night, but I don’t tell him to stop, and every attempt to fight him off is halfhearted, until I surrender completely and kiss him back.

“Come to my room with me,” he rasps against my throat, his lips brushing my skin.

“Why?”

He trails his lips along my jaw and back to my mouth.

“Because I’ve been thinking…”

“And...?”

He stops kissing me and runs his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes focused intently on my mouth. “Because I don’t want anyone else touching these lips.”

I hear the intensity in his voice and the sincerity in what he says, and I’m excited by the warning of violence that burns on every word.

“What are you saying?”

“I want to be your first.”

“But—”

He slams his mouth to mine and kisses the words from my lips.

He’s claiming me. It’s primal and possessive and so fucking sexy.

I look up at him, my heart pounding and every inch of me wanting him. All of him. Kissing me. Fucking me. Breaking me .

“I finish in an hour,” I say, kiss drunk.

“I’ll be waiting.”

When he claims my mouth again, it’s not gentle or sweet or full of loving promises, it’s demanding and fierce and starving.

When he releases me, my body is on fire, and I wonder how the hell I’m going to make it through the next hour.

“What changed your mind?” I ask as he walks toward the pantry door.

He turns back and his eyes are full of darkness.

“Because the thought of someone else doing it makes me want to burn down the entire fucking world.”