Page 11

Saylor

“I think I ate more icing than we put on the cupcakes,” Dani groaned dramatically as she leaned against the counter and rubbed her stomach like she was halfway into a sugar coma. “Who let me do that?”

Sloane cackled from where she was rinsing the mixing bowls in the sink. “Girl, I tried to take the spatula away from you, but when you growled at me, I didn’t think it was worth losing a hand.”

I chuckled under my breath and wiped down the counter where Dani had left a war zone of sprinkles and frosting. I had already wiped down the top of the fridge, where we had somehow managed to get flour and sugar. I wasn’t even asking how that had happened.

I was in the kitchen with Adalee, Sloane, and Dani, helping to clean up after we’d spent the last three hours turning the entire room into a cupcake factory. Dozens of the little cupcakes were cooling on trays across every flat surface—vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, even some bright green thing that was pistachio.

All Pirate had said, “Saylor wants to do something around the clubhouse,” when the girls had woken up.

That was it.

Eight words.

And those eight words set off a chain reaction that had steamrolled the whole compound.

The ol’ ladies swarmed. It was like lighting a fire under them. Suddenly, there were to-do lists, someone found craft paper, Olive was sketching something on a clipboard like she was building a battle plan, and Dove had a whistle. I didn’t know where the hell she got it, and I sure as shit didn’t ask.

And now—now we had something scheduled for tomorrow that Mac, Olive, Dove, Poppy, and Fallon were calling the Iron Fiends Cup.

Nobody but them knew what the hell it actually was. The rest of us had been flat-out banned from the backyard. That included the guys.

I’d tried to peek and caught Fallon standing guard with a broom like it was a broadsword. She didn’t say anything—just raised her brow and tapped the broom on her shoulder like she dared me to take another step.

I backed up real quick.

Well, the dogs were still allowed back there. Apparently, Davidson and Harley were above suspicion. Lucky bastards.

“I wonder what’s going on in the backyard,” Adalee mused aloud as she placed the last batch of cupcakes onto a tray.

“God knows,” Sloane said and shook her head as she passed her a clean dishtowel. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s gonna be fun.”

“Fun,” Dani said weakly, still clutching her stomach. “Unless it involves running. If there’s running, I’m out.”

“Same,” I muttered and scraped the last bit of icing off the edge of the counter, tossing the rag in the laundry bin by the door. “If they start yelling ‘obstacle course,’ I’m faking a sprained ankle.”

Sloane snorted.

The girls laughed, and I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. The kitchen was still a mess—bright smears of icing, empty flour bags, bowls and measuring cups piled up—but there was something real about the chaos. It was loud, happy, domestic in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The guys had been near the new garage for most of the day, finishing up some install work and preparing to move things in to get back to business. A few of them had drifted in and out to snag cupcakes or grab a sandwich, but it had mostly been the girls holding court inside.

Adalee, as always, had cooked lunch—grilled cheese and tomato soup—but somehow it tasted like a five-star meal. I didn’t know what she did to a damn sandwich, but the grilled cheese I’d eaten had borderline changed my life.

If I wasn’t careful, I was going to gain fifty pounds just hanging around the clubhouse. Between Adalee’s lunches and all of the test bakes she did to get ready for the bakery, I didn’t stand a chance.

And honestly?

I didn’t care.

It felt good to be moving. To be upright. To not be stuck in bed wincing and groaning every time I moved.

I felt better this morning. Still stiff, still bruised, but my color was back, and I had energy. And for the first time since all this shit started, I truly smiled without it looking forced.

It almost felt like things were normal, and there weren’t two psychopaths out there trying to hurt the Iron Fiends. It was like we weren’t tucked away safely in the clubhouse.

A second before the front door swung open, the sound of boots and loud voices sounded. The guys were back from the garage.

“God damn, it smells good in here,” Throttle groaned as he made a beeline for the bar.

Dice wasn’t far behind him and vaulted over the bar like he couldn’t wait another second without a beer. “I call dibs on being at the bakery to help with shit,” he announced.

Adalee laughed and shook her head as she pulled a fresh towel from the drawer. “I don’t know if having scary-looking bikers serve cupcakes and cakes is the best business model. We’ll have to keep you in the back.”

Dice rubbed the scruff on his jaw with exaggerated pride. “I’m not scary-looking. That’s called rugged, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah,” Sloane said, completely serious. “Rugged is the right word. I bet we’d have a line out the door of women trying to get a cupcake from you.”

Dice pointed at her like she’d just solved world hunger. “Thank you. Have I told you that you’re my favorite ol’ lady?”

Aero stepped around the bar and slapped the back of Dice’s head without missing a beat. “Get your own ol’ lady, man.”

Dice scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll pass. I’ll just use your guys for things I need.”

“You will not be using my woman for anything,” Aero said and gave him a look that could cut steel.

“Damn,” Sloane sighed and dramatically fanned herself with her hand. “I’m going to have to tell Winter about this. She’ll love it.”

“Winter?” I asked and glanced at her with curiosity.

“Her writer best friend,” Compass supplied and walked past us with a plate full of cupcakes. “That’s how Sloane and Aero met.”

That perked my interest. I knew next to nothing about how they’d gotten together, and I tipped my head, about to ask more when Sloane beat me to it.

“Dove and I went to Motorcycles, Mobsters, and Mayhem in Houston. A book signing that is only MC, mafia, or mayhem authors,” she said with a grin. “All I wanted to do was meet my favorite authors. Instead, I met the love of my life.”

“Yuck,” Dice called as he filled a glass with beer.

Sloane rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on a towel before walking over and getting right in Dice’s face. She raised her middle finger with a flourish. “Bite me. You wouldn’t be eating delicious meals and living in a spotless clubhouse if it wasn’t for Aero and me getting together.”

“I was doing just fine before you guys showed up,” Dice said with a shrug, then took a long swig of his beer.

“I’d like the record to show,” Aero said loudly, “that those are Dice’s opinions and Dice’s opinions only.”

Laughter echoed through the kitchen.

The front door opened again, and this time—it was him.

Pirate stepped inside, and like clockwork, my heart did this slow, uncontrollable flip. I didn’t even try to stop it. His eyes scanned the room once—just once—and landed right on me.

Another stomach flip.

God.

He didn’t look tired, though I knew he’d been working all day. His jeans were dusty, his boots scuffed, and his hair was a tousled mess, but none of it mattered. Not when he looked at me like I was the only thing he could see.

He walked straight toward me, his pace easy but his focus sharp. Like every step was deliberate. Like nothing in the room existed but me.

When he stopped in front of me, he didn’t touch—just close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his skin. Just far enough that I had to resist the urge to lean into him.

“Um, hi,” I whispered, my voice suddenly catching in my throat.

“You good, baby?” he asked as his eyes swept over me like he was checking for any new bruises.

I nodded. “Yup. I helped Adalee bake cupcakes. Nothing too strenuous.”

He nodded back, slow and approving, but his gaze lingered on my face like he didn’t quite believe I was okay until he saw it for himself.

“Miss me?” he asked, voice lower now, just for me.

My breath caught. I had missed him. But did I want him to know that?

“Uh…”

Before I could finish the awkward stumble of a reply, Adalee’s voice rang out from across the kitchen.

“Boy, get out of my kitchen unless you’re gonna help with these dishes.”

Pirate smirked but was still looking at me. “I’m just trying to check on my girl.”

Adalee didn’t miss a beat. She snapped a dish towel at him with practiced precision. “You’ve had her for the past five days. You can share her with us.”

Meanwhile, I was trying to calm my racing heart after he said my girl.

Pirate lifted his hands like he was surrendering and backed up a step. “All right, all right. I’ll get my time with her later.”

He turned to head toward the fridge, but not before glancing over his shoulder and giving me a look.

That look.

The one that made my skin heat up, my stomach twist, and every thought in my head short-circuit at the same time.

I swallowed hard and turned back toward the cupcakes like they were the most interesting things in the world.

God help me.

Today had been good. Really good. It felt amazing to do something normal—to laugh, to joke, to move around instead of lying in bed feeling helpless.

But as much as I’d loved every second of being surrounded by everyone, of baking and storytelling and a kitchen full of chaos…

I was really looking forward to tonight.

Just me and Pirate.

Our room.

No distractions.