Beyond the Cut (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #2)(52)
“Never seen anyone scowl so much about getting hitched.” Jagger leaned against the bar beside him after Arianne took Dawn to meet her new family. “People are starting to talk. Totally defeats the purpose of what you were trying to do here. Go dance with her, kiss her, make out—something to make it seem legit. Or are you having second thoughts?”
“She’s not fully on board with the plan. Took a lot of convincing.” He finished his beer in one swallow. “I get that she had a bad experience with the Brethren. And Mad Dog … every time I think about him, my blood f*cking boils, but we’re not them, and I’m not him. Why can’t she see the difference?”
A shadow crossed Jagger’s face and he glanced over at Arianne and Dawn. “She’s fought hard to get away from the Brethren and make a life for herself, so it’s gonna be hard for her to trust us or give up her independence. You can’t run around swinging your club. I know about strong women, brother. You need a subtle touch.”
Subtle. Sure. He could do subtle.
Cade pushed his way through the sea of brothers, parting the group of women now crowded around Dawn with a scowl.
“Thought it was time I had a dance with the old lady.” He held out his hand, his heart pounding as if he were sixteen and back in high school wondering if the girl with the biggest tits in middle school would shoot him down. He’d always had a thing for big tits, and Dawn … damn she looked fine.
Dawn paled and for a moment he thought she’d refuse him, but she rallied and took his hand. “Of course. Can’t let the old man dance alone.”
He led her to the dance floor where a few brothers and their girls were making out on the pretext of dancing, but that was because the DJ was playing some shit boy-band pop crap. Cade caught the loser’s eye and shouted. “Put on some real music or I’ll rip off your balls.”
“Nice.” Dawn put her hands around Cade’s neck. “Our first dance and you threaten to rip off the DJ’s balls. If I had any illusions about being back in the biker world, they have now been well and truly dispelled.”
“My woman doesn’t dance to shit music,” he muttered. God she smelled good, like the flowers his mothers had planted every spring, no matter how disparaging his father was about her choices.
“Sounds like your woman now has to dance to the Forest Rangers’ ‘House of the Rising Sun.’” Dawn snorted a laugh after the DJ changed the tune. “Why do civilians think every bike gang is like the ones on TV?”
“’Cause if they knew what we were really like, we’d all be locked up for our own protection.”
Her hips swayed gently to the music and he slid his hands around her waist, pulling her close, molding her soft, lush body to his own.
“You watch biker shows on TV?”
Dawn’s face flushed a delightful pink. “Yeah, I like them, although they’re so far removed from reality sometimes I laugh the whole way through. I also like watching boxing and MMA, and…” Her voice trailed off.
His interest piqued, Cade gave her a nudge. “She gives me a hard time, but she likes her violence. What else?”
“Survival shows. Whenever I’m feeling down or having regrets about the past, I watch survival shows and think about how I’m a survivor and how hard I fought to get where I am.”
“Damn right you should.” His heart warmed with pride. “And you’re still fighting, but now you got me by your side.”
She sighed and melted against him. And then everything changed. All his anger and tension, even the pain in his back, just faded away. She just felt so … right—perfect—like they were meant to be together and the world had gotten in the way.
“We never danced before,” she said softly. Her breath was sweet, citrusy, and he was tempted to lick that sugar from her lips, but uncertainty held him back.
“We never did a whole lot of anything before except f*ck.” Exactly what he wanted to do now. And afterward, maybe they could talk, or do what couples did, although never having really been part of a couple, he didn’t know what that would be. Watch TV? Go for a ride? Fuck some more?
“Maybe that’s ’cause that’s all we’re good for together.”
That gave him pause. Yes, he enjoyed sex with Dawn, but he genuinely liked her. She was smart, sweet, sensitive, and funny. She had more grit and determination than anyone he’d met, working three jobs, putting up with Shelly-Ann, never giving up hope she’d get her girls back. He wanted to spend more time with her, but she was always running away.
“Well, we gotta have something together, because now you’re wearing my cut and there’s no turning back.” He brushed his fingers through her beautiful long, blond hair. They had that in common. But Dawn was soft, where he was hard. Curved where he was straight. Sweet where he was bitter.
“If you’d told me three weeks ago I’d be in a biker bar, dancing with a biker and wearing a cut, I’d never have believed you. This was the last thing I ever thought I wanted. Me. A biker’s old lady again.”
His old lady. He liked the sound of it. He liked watching the words on her lips, tumbling over the silky softness and into his heart. Three weeks ago, sitting in his booth at Peelers with Delilah in his lap, he never would have believed he’d have an old lady. “Say it again.”