Undeniable (Undeniable, #1)(64)

He turned forty-nine.

Cox left his wife and moved in with Kami.

Danny got a boyfriend.

Danny’s boyfriend broke up with her, and Deuce swore he had nothing to do with that.

Cox finalized his divorce. He put a diamond ring on Kami’s finger. She didn’t like it and bought herself a bigger, more expensive one. And matching earrings. He thought he heard Cox muttering about taking away her Internet access—something about shoes that cost several thousand dollars.

Devin turned five.

Cox bought him a dirt bike, and Kami beat the crap out of him with a cooking pot.

Eva turned thirty-one.

Kami kicked Cox out—something about not liking the way he’d been looking at a supermarket cashier. He was more interested in how she managed to get Cox into a supermarket.

The boys had a new tag made for him, the back of which read Foxy. He managed to punch three of them in the face before they all turned tail and ran. Then he put it on.

And grinned.

Summer was good to the club. Lots of business. Lots of coin rolling in. Two of his boys got married. The club voted in three new brothers.

Eva’s ass deflated—not that he cared. He’d take Eva any which way he could get her. Thin, curvy, juicy as hell. A f*cking blimp. What the f*ck ever. It had never been her body that kept him tied to her. Shit with Eva went a hell of a lot deeper than looks. Although those tits of hers…and those lips…

And God knows those f*cking eyes made him damn crazy.

Cox and Kami got married; she let him move back in.

Ivy turned one. She took one look at her Hello Kitty birthday cake, Danny’s idea, and did a face-plant dead center. A picture of her covered in cake and frosting—her white-flecked blue eyes glittering, grinning her old man’s grin—was sitting front and center on his desk.

He started planning something big. Something real f*cking special for his woman.

Then one summer day it all blew to smithereens.





CHAPTER TWENTY


Ivy, Deuce, and I walked hand in hand through the club’s large backyard. Country music was blaring through several strategically placed speakers. Three large grills were already lit and cooking up hot dogs, hamburgers, and steaks as bikers and their wives, girlfriends, and children were milling around, drinking beer or soda, talking animatedly with each other.

Smiling.

Dancing.

Happy.

Deuce squeezed my hand. “Babe, go get busy with woman shit; I gotta talk to Ripper.”

Before I called him any one of the assortment of names I had stashed away for all of his chauvinistic bullshit, I hurried off to a long table displaying several different varieties of macaroni salad, chips and dips, pretzels, and assorted veggies. Dorothy stood behind the table, wearing a black apron over her cute pink sundress, dishing out food.

I kicked off my sandals and went to help her.

“Hey,” I whispered, nudging her with my hip. “You OK?”

Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head. “I’m never OK when I have to watch him with her.”

I followed her line of sight to Jase, his wife, Chrissy, and their three kids. Thirteen years he had been messing with Dorothy; she was thirty-three now, and he still hadn’t made good on any of the promises he’d made her. She’d left her husband for him; her daughter was sixteen, headed for college next fall, and she was going to be all alone. It was none of my business, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“Take a break,” I suggested. “I got this covered.”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re Deuce’s old lady.”

I shrugged. “So? I’m pretty sure that doesn’t mean I can’t serve noodles.”

Shaking her head, but smiling, she untied her apron and handed it to me. “Thanks,” she whispered and ran off. Jase turned away from Chrissy and watched her flee the barbeque and disappear inside the clubhouse. Frowning, he whispered something in Chrissy’s ear—who nodded and smiled—and took off after Dorothy.

“Eva?”

I turned back to the table and found Cox’s ex-wife, Anna, standing in front of me. She’d cut her long black hair short; it looked good.

“Hey,” I said. “Dropping Mary Catherine off?”

She nodded and pointed to her preteen daughter who was laughing, chasing after Devin.

“Food?” I lifted up a plate in offering.

She wrinkled up her nose. “No thanks. I’m trying to lose weight.”

I looked her over, wondering where she needed to lose weight.

“Hi, Eva! Anna!” Chrissy sauntered over. She was gorgeous. Tall, lithe, big perky breasts, long auburn hair. With her perfect tan and perfectly shaped and symmetrical features, she was an all-American wet dream. She was everything Dorothy wasn’t. Hell, she was everything I wasn’t. Good thing I didn’t give a crap.

“Chrissy,” Anna said, greeting her.

“Are you two coming to yoga tomorrow?” Chrissy asked, bouncing up and down in her cutoff jean shorts and tight white tank top, drawing the attention of every biker within thirty feet. Even Deuce.

I glared at him. He flashed me a mouth-watering grin before turning around and resuming his conversation.

“Yep,” I said. Chrissy and her yoga classes had been my saving grace. I had lost all my pregnancy weight and then some.