Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(2)

Honestly, I didn’t have a clue how Eva put up with all the female attention he got around the club. Whenever I asked, she’d always shrug and say, “It’s typical.”

Eva and I were both biker brats, but whereas Preacher raised her inside his clubhouse alongside his boys, I was raised at home. I frequented the clubhouse on occasion but hadn’t become an integral part of “the life” until my father brought Eva home with him, pregnant with my little sister, Ivy, about five years back. And everything changed.

Because of Eva, I’d been able to start spending more time at the club, finally getting a chance to know the men I’d known all my life but had never gotten the chance to really, truly know until now. I’d formed relationships with all of them—Tap, Bucket, ZZ, Marsh, Hawk, Mick, Freebird, Cox, Blue, Chip, Worm, Dimebag, Dirty, and Jase. And also Danny D. and Danny L. who, because they had the same first name as me, I ended up calling them DoubleD and DL, which they loved, and eventually the names stuck.

They were all so different, young and old, their appearances varying as much as their ages, but they all had one thing in common.

Brotherhood.

It was everything to them; they would take a bullet for one another as soon as take their next breath. And my father, their president, in return for their loyalty took care of them and their families. It was a never-ending cycle of allegiance and respect and…love.

Even so, I knew this life wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Being the daughter of a hardened criminal, I knew sunshine and roses for what they really were. Few and far between. Especially in my family.

When I was seven my father attended a parent/teacher conference with my mother. It was his first and his last. My second grade teacher had made the mistake of informing my parents I was falling behind in class and would probably need to repeat second grade. Needless to say, my father took this as a slam against me and a personal insult to his parenting. Mr. Steinberg never did return to teaching after he’d recovered from his injuries.

When I was twelve my brother took on four boys who were picking on me and in turn got his ass kicked. As he limped away, he spit out a tooth and grinned at me. “They’ll think twice next time, little sister,” he said, slinging his arm over my shoulders. “No one’s gonna mess with a girl who’s got a brother crazy enough to take on four guys at once.”

And I thought…that’s what love is.

To some, the idea of violence being interpreted as love is ludicrous, but to me, it was my reality. It is my reality.

“Hiya, Danny girl,” Preacher said, holding out his arms.

My father let me go and I wrapped my arms around Preacher’s middle and squeezed.

“Lookin’ gorgeous as always, sweetheart,” he said in his gruff, raspy voice. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and released me.

Grabbing a beer from a cooler, I crossed the lawn headed for Eva. Talking with Kami, Eva paused to shoot me a quick smile. Eva and Kami were polar opposites in every way. Married with two kids with Cox, my father’s super sexy tattooed and pierced road chief, Kami was blue-eyed and blonde, tall and runway-model thin, whereas Eva had smoky gray eyes, long dark hair, and curves. But they were kindred spirits, had been friends for thirty years now, and I often found myself jealous of what they shared, their ability to tell each other anything and everything, to be there for each other no matter what.

I’d never had that. With anyone.

And I wanted it. Desperately.

But I’ve wanted a lot of things over the years that I’d never gotten, and eventually I learned to accept the fact that some things would forever be out of my reach.

I stepped up beside Dorothy, placed my palm on her swollen belly, and gave her a light rub. Blowing out a breath, she shoved her red hair out of her eyes and covered my hand with hers.

“Only a few more weeks, Danny.” She sighed. “I can’t wait for this baby to come out. I’m too old to be pregnant.”

I gave her a sympathetic smile.

At thirty-six, Dorothy wasn’t old, but she was an old soul. She’d gotten pregnant at sixteen, married at eighteen, and had lived for too long in a bad marriage with a man who wanted nothing to do with her. In her early twenties she met Jase, one of my father’s lifers and, and started coming to the club to be with him when he wasn’t at home with his wife, Chrissy, and their three kids.

Dorothy Kelley wasn’t like the rest of the club whores that flocked to the MC. She truly loved Jase and Jase adored her. Just not enough to leave his wife. Now she was a permanent fixture at the club. She was paid to cook, clean, and do the laundry, and she’d since left her husband and lived in an apartment Jase paid for in town. Her daughter, Tegen, two years younger than me, was away at college in San Francisco. Now, Dorothy spent practically all of her time at the club. She and I had grown close over the past four years, and although I disapproved of the love triangle she was involved in, I loved her with all my heart.

A familiar arm slid around my middle and pulled me close.

“Hey, baby,” ZZ whispered, slipping his fingertips in the waistband of my jeans. With his other hand, he grabbed my beer and took a long swallow.

I turned into his big, hard body and slipped my arms around his waist. “Hey, you,” I whispered back, kissing his sternum.

ZZ was another lifer, thirty years old, big and strong, long brown hair, matching brown eyes, squared handsome features, and a perpetual five o’clock shadow. And he was a sweetheart. As far as boyfriends went, I’d hit the jackpot. Kind and thoughtful, educated and well-read, faithful in a club constantly filled with whores, ZZ was everything a girl could hope for in a man.