Page 32 of Riding the Line (Steel Saints MC #1)

Maria, Holly, and I made plans to go out on Wednesday to look for dresses.

The days at work leading up to it were painful.

Greyson was lingering around like a bad smell.

Mac was alternating between being a total grouch and an absolute drama queen.

Dalton was my rock, and also the one hiding the whiskey from his brother.

The first time he told me he loved me in front of Maria and Holly, they were standing behind him and made a scene of cheering.

He had winked at me and left me to deal with my ridiculous friends.

Holly had somehow managed to get us last-minute appointments at a swanky dress shop in town.

We’d been required to send in our measurements prior, and Holly assured Maria and me that Donni knew what he was doing.

She also told us that we were going to love Donni, but pulling up outside the gorgeous brick building with ivy crawling up the sides, I was more than a little apprehensive.

The place screamed money. Dalton had tried giving me his heavy credit card, but when I had refused it, he had given it to Holly who was more than happy to take it.

Maria’s cheeks were flushed—a sure sign she was excited—and she linked her arm with mine as Holly ushered us into the building. The door rang with a sweet chime as it shut behind us, and not even ten seconds later, a large man in black slacks and a silk purple button-down came hurrying towards us.

“ Amore mio !” He embraced Holly and kissed her cheeks. “How I have missed you! And you brought friends!”

The man I assumed was Donni turned to Maria and me, still standing behind the door.

He embraced us each in turn. “ Bellissima , assolutamente bellissima . Yes, yes this is going to be wonderful.” He was loud and exuberant, smelling of expensive cologne, and his thick Italian accent made him just a little hard to understand.

His bald head was so shiny, I could practically see my reflection in it.

“So, um… how do you know Holly?”

Before he could answer, another, much slimmer, man came from the back carrying a tray holding champagne flutes. “Donatello, please do tell me you did not forget their refreshments?”

“My apologies, il mio amato marito . I was so eager to greet them, I am afraid it slipped my mind. But I see you already took care of it. Dove sarei senza di te ? I was just getting ready to tell them about Antonio.”

Maria had grabbed a flute off the offered tray, but paused before raising it to her lips. “Wait… you’re Tony’s family!”

I glanced between her and the two men. “Wait, Tony Tony? Like big, butch, black leather, Tony?”

Donni laughed, “Ah yes, the one and only. He is my nephew.”

Holly headed towards a sitting area that had white cushioned chairs fanned out around a giant mirror. “Donni and Lorenzo are the classy ones, clearly.”

They beamed at her, and I decided that Holly had been right—disliking the two men would’ve been like hating on a puppy.

Maria and I sat next to Holly, while Donni and Lorenzo disappeared behind a large velvet curtain.

I eyed the incredibly expensive-looking gowns that surrounded us—elegant white wedding dresses on one side of the room, and evening gowns in various shades and colors on the other.

“Oh, here they come. Y’all are going to love this. Donni designs all the dresses in here, and Lorenzo makes them. Honestly, they are total goals. They adore each other, and there’s no better place for a gown than here. All their dresses are exclusive to this shop. ”

I raised my eyebrows. “Sounds expensive.” I jerked backward and about fell out of my chair when a piece of plastic unexpectedly hit me in the face. Holly had flicked Dalton’s credit card at me. She and Maria cackled while I resituated myself, and gave them both dirty looks.

Point taken.

Maria opened her mouth, probably to say something smart, but was interrupted by the reappearance of Donni and Lorenzo.

Donni was pulling one dress rack and pushing another, while Lorenzo followed behind with yet another rack.

Oh boy. Each of us had a cart stop in front of us, and I gaped at the row of dresses in front of me. This was gonna take all day.

Donni clapped his hands together, cheeks bright red and eyes bright. “ Signoras , you have each sent me your measurements. Che meravigliosa varietà .”

Lorenzo nodded in agreement, though I had absolutely no idea what he was saying. And measurements? I hadn’t sent anything. One of the boys, maybe?

Donni continued, making a grand sweeping gesture to the dresses before us. The two men acted like the world was their stage—all dramatic exuberance that was hard not to get swept up in.

“Here at DL Designs, we pride ourselves on making dresses for all—not just the slim.”

Lorenzo nodded even more enthusiastically. “ Snello non è l’unica forma di bellezza .”

Maria, Holly, and I exchanged glances. Italian was a beautiful language, but outside of “ signora ” and “ sì ” I was out of my depth.

Lorenzo kept our glasses full as we spent the next several hours trying on dresses.

After the fourth or fifth dress, he went to the back room and came back with a bountiful charcuterie board loaded with cheese, meats, crackers, and even fruit and nuts.

Donni had put on a pair of glasses at some point and would, every now and then, make suggestions on styling the dress or would ask Lorenzo about taking in a few inches here or there.

I couldn’t lie—being pampered like that was a blast .

Lorenzo had left in search of bottled water, and Donni had run off proclaiming he had the perfect dresses for us.

After giving us each some water and insisting we drink it, Lorenzo joined his husband in a far corner, and they talked in a hushed whisper.

A few minutes later, they came back up to us as we were debating which one to go with.

Lorenzo shook his head. “No, no. You ladies have looked absolutely lovely in these gowns. How could you not? We made them!” He winked at us, then continued, “But these are the ones. Perfetto .”

Donni handed us each a gown wrapped in a protective cloth.

Holly’s was a sweeping red gown with an open back and off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline. She ran her hand down the glimmering material and smiled. “Oh yeah, this is it. Donni, you’ve been holding out on us.” She hurried off to try it on.

Maria held hers out for me to see, and I nodded in approval. It was a gold sequined mermaid gown, with a deep V that would plummet down her chest and probably give Diego a heart attack.

I carefully pulled the protective sleeve from my gown, and Lorenzo winked at me. “Holly mentioned you had affections for two certain bikers we know. I thought this a fitting color.”

The dress I was holding was, without a doubt, the most beautiful and elegant thing I had ever seen.

I was instantly in love. It was a deep, midnight blue chiffon with cap sleeves that would leave most of my arm bare, and each side was split from the mid-thigh down.

The Queen Anne neckline would show just the right amount of cleavage, and the bodice was decorated with fine, silver beads in a leaf pattern.

Holly came out of the dressing room looking like a Hollywood star in the floor-length sheath dress.

We smiled when our eyes met, and she ushered me to the dressing room.

When I walked out, I felt like a queen. Maria was resplendent in her dress, every sinful curve highlighted by the clinging fabric.

She gasped, and Holly feigned swooning, when I walked towards them.

I rolled my eyes at their dramatics. The three of us stood arm in arm in front of the floor-length mirrors, and damn if we weren’t a sight to see.

Donni wolf-whistled and Lorenzo jabbed him with an elbow.

Holly looked at them through the mirror. “We’ll take them. I think I love you two.”

When their point of sale system cheerfully dinged with the total, I just about died.

Holly and Maria assured me Dalton wouldn’t even blink at the price tag, and I couldn’t help but wonder how on earth a biker could be so damn rich.

How many figurative pies did the Saints have their fingers in and, more importantly, what kind?

Maria dropped me off at my place, and I waved them goodbye as they drove away.

Unlocking the door, I hung my dress from the banister and headed into the kitchen, kicking my shoes off as I went.

Unbraiding my hair from the disheveled mess it had become, I ran my hands through it until it was mostly smooth.

I made my way over to the counter, and calmly pulled a knife from the block.

Then I threw it with every ounce of strength I had at the dark figure sitting at my table.

When he dodged the blade, just barely, I shrieked in surprise and flipped on a light.

Mac looked at the blade embedded in the wall behind him, and then at me with a raised eyebrow. “Where the hell did you learn to throw a blade like that?”

I did the only thing that I knew would distract him from an answer I couldn’t give him—I freaked the fuck out.

“Oh my God, what the fuck are you doing? I was fucking attacked by a rando in my apartment not even five months ago! Are you crazy?! Sitting in the damn dark, lurking like some serial killer!”

He stood quickly. “Shit, Vixen. I’m sorry, I wasn’t even thinking about that. I should’ve turned on the light or waited outside, but I just wanted to see you. Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, and then reached for me.

I buried my face in my hands and tried to breathe.

One, I had almost skewered the man I loved.

Two, I had defended myself a little too well.

I tensed when Mac wrapped his arms around me, but he pulled me close, whispering soothing words and desperate apologies in my ear.

When I finally started to relax, I looked up at him.