Page 10

I hold Katty against my chest, her skin still flushed and warm from our lovemaking, and I'm struck by a thought that should terrify me: I've never lost control like this before.

Control has been the cornerstone of my existence since childhood—controlling my temper when Lilly was bullied, controlling my reactions through military training, controlling the violence that comes so naturally to me in service of the club. Control is what makes me valuable, reliable, trusted.

Yet tonight, with this woman I've known barely a day, I willingly surrendered that control, let myself be guided by something other than calculated reason. Dangerous, by any measure.

And yet, as I trace the patterns of her tattoo and feel her heart beating against mine, I can't bring myself to regret it. She's worth the risk. Worth everything.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks, her fingers drawing small circles on my chest.

"How quickly things can change," I answer honestly. "Yesterday morning, I was in Cedar Falls preparing for a routine ride to help my sister. Now I'm here, with you, and nothing feels routine anymore."

She shifts slightly to look up at me, those green eyes searching mine. "Do you regret it?"

"No," I say without hesitation. "Do you?"

"Not even a little." Her smile is soft, intimate. "But I am wondering what happens now."

What does happen now? I'm supposed to handle Dylan, ensure Lilly's safety, then return to the club and my responsibilities there. That was the plan. Simple, straightforward.

But now there's Katty to consider, and nothing about what I feel for her is simple or straightforward.

"I need to make sure Lilly is safe," I begin, thinking aloud. "Dylan needs to understand, permanently, that she's off-limits."

Katty nods, her expression serious. "And after that?"

"After that..." I trail off, considering possibilities I'd never entertained before. "I go back to my town. To the club."

I feel her tense slightly against me, though she tries to hide it. "Of course," she says, too casually. "That's your life."

"It has been," I agree, stroking her hair. "But lives can change. Routes can be adjusted."

She props herself up on my chest, studying my face with cautious hope. "What are you saying, Tank?"

I take a deep breath, organizing thoughts that are still forming as I speak them. "I'm saying I don't want this—us—to end when I leave Sweetheart County."

"So what, we date long-distance?" she asks skeptically. "You ride in for weekends when you can get away from club business?"

"Maybe at first," I admit. "But there might be another option."

Her eyebrows raise, encouraging me to continue.

"Sweetheart County has a problem," I say, sitting up slightly against the arm of the couch, keeping her cradled against me. "Dylan is just a symptom of a larger issue. Money and influence trumping justice. People like Lilly have no real protection when the system fails them."

Katty nods slowly, recognition dawning in her eyes. "You're thinking about what I said earlier. About this town needing something to upset the status quo."

"An MC chapter," I confirm. "A legitimate one, with roots in the community but the strength to stand against corruption when necessary."

"You'd start a new chapter here?" She sounds both intrigued and skeptical. "Would your president even allow that?"

It's a valid question. Expansion isn't something MCs take lightly. New territories mean new responsibilities, new potential for conflict.

"Hellfire has been talking about expansion for a while," I explain. "He believes we're strong enough now to establish presence in neighboring counties. It would take convincing, but with a solid business plan and local support, it could work."

"A business plan?" she repeats, a smile tugging at her lips. "You sound more like an entrepreneur than an outlaw biker."

I return her smile. "The best MCs are both. We run legitimate businesses that serve the community. Auto shops, security firms, sometimes bars or tattoo parlors. The protection aspect is... supplementary."

She considers this, her analytical mind clearly working through the implications. "And you'd want to lead this new chapter? Leave the main club?"

"Maybe," I acknowledge. "Have to prove I can build something from the ground up, not just enforce rules others have established. But yes, eventually, that would be the goal."

Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, her touch gentle but grounding. "That's a big change to consider based on one night together, Tank."

"It's not just about us," I assure her, though she's not entirely wrong. "It's about Lilly too. About not having to ride twenty hours every time she needs help. About creating something that serves a purpose beyond just surviving."

I can see she's not fully convinced, and I appreciate her caution. It's one of the things I already admire about her. She doesn't get swept away by grand gestures or impulsive promises.

"Let me ask you something," she says after a moment. "If I weren't in the picture at all, if last night hadn't happened between us, would you still be considering this?"

The question gives me pause. I want to reassure her, to say of course I would, but she deserves honesty.

"Probably not right now," I admit. "But the seed would be planted. The need is real, whether or not we happened."

She nods, accepting this. "And what would this look like, practically speaking? You'd need members, a base of operations..."

"I'd bring in a few trusted brothers from Cedar Falls to start. Men who are ready for more responsibility but blocked by the club's hierarchy. One or two prospects. We'd establish a clubhouse, probably connected to a business—a garage makes the most sense given our skills."

As I speak, the idea becomes more concrete, more plausible. I've always been good at tactical planning, at seeing the steps needed to achieve an objective.

"It would take time," I continue. "Six months, maybe a year to establish properly. There would be resistance, not just from the Thomas family but from other power structures in town. Change is never easy."

"No, it isn't," she agrees softly.

Outside, the first hints of dawn lighten the sky through the curtains. We've talked through the night, naked on her couch, planning a future that seemed impossible twenty-four hours ago.

"What about you?" I ask finally. "You mentioned that university position up north. Would you still want that?"

She's quiet for a moment, considering. "I applied because I was restless.

Because I felt like I was just existing here, not really living.

" Her eyes meet mine, clear and direct. "But if there was something worth staying for—something that mattered, something that could make a difference—I might reconsider. "

"And us?" I press gently. "What do you want from that?"

Her smile turns wry. "You mean beyond mind-blowing sex on my couch?"

I chuckle, appreciating her ability to lighten the moment. "Beyond that, yes. Though I'm certainly not opposed to more of that too."

She grows serious again. "I want honesty.

I want partnership. I want someone who sees me for who I am and values that, not despite my strength but because of it.

" Her hand finds mine, fingers intertwining.

"I think you could be that person. I think we could build something real.

But I don't want to be a fantasy you're chasing, or a reason you change your life only to resent later. "

Her wisdom strikes me again. This woman sees so clearly, cuts through pretense and bravado to the heart of things.

"I've never been good with pretty words or romantic promises," I tell her, bringing our joined hands to my lips. "But I know what feels right, what feels true. And this—you, us, the possibility of building something here—feels more right than anything has in a long time."

“Okay then. Let's try. But step by step, not all at once. You handle Dylan, talk to your president about the possibility of expansion, see if it's even viable. I'll hold off on the university application, keep my options open."

Her practicality makes me smile. "Always the planner."

"Someone has to be," she teases. "I'm guessing the Iron & Blood MC doesn't run on impulsive decisions and hope."

"You'd be surprised," I reply, thinking of some of the club's more colorful episodes. "But point taken. We do this smart, strategic."

"And in the meantime?" she asks, her body shifting subtly against mine in a way that rekindles the heat between us.

"In the meantime," I murmur, pulling her closer, "we make the most of the time we have now."

Her lips find mine in a kiss that promises more, but before we can get carried away again, the sound of a door opening down the hall freezes us both.

"Shit," Katty whispers, eyes wide. "Lilly's up."

We scramble for our clothes, trying to dress with minimal noise and maximum speed. I've just pulled on my jeans and Katty has wrapped herself in a throw blanket when Lilly appears in the doorway, hair mussed from sleep.

She takes one look at us. Katty's flushed face, my bare chest, the scattered clothing, and breaks into a knowing grin.

"Well, well," she says, leaning against the doorframe. "Looks like you two found a way to pass the time after all."

"Lilly," I warn, but there's no real heat behind it. I can't find it in me to be embarrassed, not when what happened between Katty and me feels so significant.

"Don't 'Lilly' me," my sister laughs. "I knew it from the moment you two met at the fair. The way you looked at each other... it was just a matter of time."

Katty pulls the blanket tighter around herself, but she's smiling too. "How about you put on some coffee while your brother and I get dressed, and then we can all talk like civilized adults?"

"Fine, fine," Lilly agrees, turning toward the kitchen. "But just so you know, I'm totally okay with this. More than okay. Actually, it's kind of perfect."