Rome (Marked Men #3)(38)

“Seriously we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Uh … The date is fine, but we have a problem.”

He scratched his chest and yawned. “The guys?”

I smacked him on the arm. “No, well yeah, maybe, but something more serious than that.”

He copied my pose. “What?”

“I’m not on the pill.”

We stared at each other for what felt like five minutes without talking. I was smarter than this, always had been. I couldn’t believe I let something as basic as safe sex get away from me. Finally he flopped back down on the bed and threw his arm across his eyes.

“I knew I felt like I forgot something the last time.”

Well, crap, I hadn’t even considered the time before. I cleared my throat.

“And?”

He just shrugged a big shoulder. “It’s not like we can go back and un-have sex.”

I growled a little at him and narrowed my eyes. “What if the result is a baby?”

“Then we deal with it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Don’t freak out yet.”

Oh, this wasn’t even close to freaking out, but he didn’t know me well enough to know that, which really was the entire problem with the possibility of getting knocked up by a virtual stranger. I was going to start hyperventilating, start spazzing out, but before I could, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down so that I was lying on top of him. I felt his lips brush the top of my head and felt that wide chest start to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. The jackass was going to fall asleep on me while I was having a major crisis.

“Cora.” I put my head down over his heart and tried to calm down. “Don’t worry, Half-Pint, we got this.”

And then he was asleep and I was left wondering how such an obviously imperfect guy had invaded my world so thoroughly and how right Rowdy had been, sideways. Everything was most definitely sideways and right now I had no clue which way was up.

CHAPTER 8

Rome

I was sprawled out under the pool table, trying to get the stupid thing level, when several pairs of worn motorcycle boots were suddenly the only things I could see through the legs I had jacked up off the floor. It was early afternoon, so the bar was dead and Brite had taken off to run some errands. I guess that left me sort of in charge, and if a bunch of bikers were going to show up and trash all the hard work I had put in to this place over the last few weeks, it was going to get unpleasant really fast. I took a quick count, noting that there appeared to be five of them, before I slid out from under the table and wiped my hands down on my jeans.

Bikers looked like bikers, but these guys were clearly the top branch of the club. I knew badass when I saw it, could feel the don’t f**k with me coming off this crew. These guys were no prospects, no sidewalk bikers looking for a little action. These dudes were the real deal, and if they wanted a piece of me, I was going to have to work way harder at staying alive than I had the last time I tangled with a bunch of bikers.

The guy that was clearly the leader of the crew took a step toward me and I had to stiffen up to avoid taking an automatic step back. I lifted the eyebrow with the scar in it and crossed my arms over my chest. I could do badass as well as the next guy if I had to.

“You Archer?”

I nodded slightly and kept an eye on the other four guys who spread out to flank the man talking to me.

“Brite told me some of the newbies came in here and f**ked shit up. Tried to start some business with you and then looked like little punks when you finished it. That true?”

I just nodded again. I wasn’t sure what this was all about, and I didn’t know if more detail would help or hurt my case at this point in time.

The guy shared a look with one of the other guys over my shoulder and moved to pull up the edge of his sleeve. I blinked in surprise when I noticed he had the exact same tattoo Brite wore on his forearm.

“Brothers-in-arms, kiddo. That shit don’t fly with me and it don’t fly with the Sons of Sorrow. The club knows the Bar is off-limits and that anyone who did service deserves respect. That little ass-wipe is getting his rocker cut off. We will not have prospects or anyone around us who can’t abide by the rules and show proper respect.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what getting a rocker cut off meant, but it sounded like it was all in my favor, so I nodded once more and pushed off the table.

“Thanks. I’m just glad nobody got hurt any worse or the bar didn’t end up even more trashed.”

“Brite likes you. Thinks you’re a good kid with a lot of potential. That means you’re good people in my book. We look out for good people.”

I wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. I knew from Cora that Asa was still in a cast from a beat-down by a Southern chapter of the SoS, but I guess as long as they didn’t want to start anything up with me, I couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I shook the guy’s hand but didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until every last one of them trekked back out the front door. I went up the bar to where Darcy had stuck her head out of the kitchen to keep an eye on things.

“That was intense.”

She nodded and handed me a glass of water from the other side of the bar. “Brite ran around with them when he got back after his first deployment. He was into all kinds of bad stuff. That was why wife number one left.”