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Decision made, Jameson King would like me, and I’d make sure he never stopped.
Jameson King was handsome when cleaned up, but dressed down, wearing a black hoodie, a pair of gray sweatpants and his unlaced motorcycle boots—as though he’d just slipped out of bed—was devastating.
he was the sun and I was a sunflower searching for heat.
“You can’t sleep because you don’t feel safe. I’m here now, you’re safe. Go to sleep.”
Natty was gorgeous, but she also had an unruliness to her that reminded me of a wildflower. She was free and seemed to completely understand exactly who she was without fearing it.
Those caramel eyes would land on me and for just a few seconds, I’d feel like a hole had been pierced in my heart, allowing in the first glimpse of sunlight. He was warm and safe. He was what I imagined having a steady home must feel like.
“The fuck you doing with your tire nearly parked in her door, gentlemen?” Wes asked. “It’s Chaos King’s business. Not Stone Riders, you can fuck off.” Bones smiled at Wes, as if they were buddies. Wes glanced at me, his eyes narrowing. “That true, Penelope?” With tears finally falling, I shook my head. “I just want to leave.” Callie tried to push forward again, her eyes tightened, her expression glacial as she stared at the riders in front of me.
Panic was stamped across his features. His golden hair was windswept off his face, his denim jeans looked worn, and his boots were dusty with dirt. He wore his cut over a thick, black zip-up hoodie.
I missed my life. I missed being someone that mattered and had worth.
It felt like a boulder had shifted in my chest, making room for the sun I had worked so hard to block out. He wasn’t supposed to make butterflies swarm in my stomach, or my face heat. This crush was supposed to die over the summer. That deadly concern swirling in his caramel eyes was new and it left me breathless. It wasn’t just worry…it was like someone attempted to touch something that belonged to him. I knew after this moment that look had ruined me for anyone else for the rest of my life.
“What happened to Penny from last year who picked wildflowers, wore ripped jeans and always had that hair back in a braid?” “You mean the one who tripped over herself to get your attention?”
“What are you doing?” Natty smiled up at me. “I made these for you.” She pulled out several crocheted stuffed animals…wait, “are those—penises?” Natty paused, staring down at her multicolored plushies. “They’re not—they’re squids. Like little squids…I thought they would be cute for your little guy.” I stroked a hand down the expanse of my stomach as a smile curled my lips. Natty gripped a small stuffed item, tilting it in her hand—examining it. “Does it really look like a penis?” With a snort, I nodded. “How do you not see it—the long shaft…” “That’s the body!” “The bulbous tip.” I squeezed
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How you’re having to pretend and act like everything is fine simply because people are being nice to you. When all you want is to throw a fit, scream, cuss, and hit something because none of it is fair. None of it at all.”
His eyes seemed to burn as he searched her from head to toe, and then gruffly said, “Ne ingrediaris silvam solum.”
“But you were passing notes and speaking another language…” She shrugged, ducking her head to reach into her small fridge. “We grew up together. His mother taught us Latin…it’s a dead language, and well Death Raiders dealt in death and deadly things, she thought it would be helpful to learn a dead language we could use as a way to secretly communicate when needed.” I sat back on my palms, looking up at the green vines twisting along her ceiling with a dopey smile on my face. “You have a secret love.”
There wasn’t a single day that went by lately where I didn’t try and figure out what the fuck had happened to my life.
“First of all, you need to figure out a way to keep Penelope safe. Obviously, there’s bad blood, or anger…whatever the fuck, but your word alone isn’t working. You need to do something that shows she’s untouchable, and then I would wait, and when it’s time to strike, I’d make it look like an accident.”
“Let’s be clear. I allowed you to live after meeting with her because Killian was present, but if you ever talk to her alone, I will kill you. She is not available; she is not open property. She is mine.”
Penelope and I had a complicated past. One full of unspoken truths, missed chances, and stolen moments. I’d hurt her. She had hurt me. It was fate’s twisted sense of humor that we were now thrown together in some odd, domesticated role. The irony was cruel.
It was weird that we’d finally seemed to find a place to stay, but I was still too nervous to voice any of my thoughts, so I had continued the tradition of finding wildflowers and pressing them into my journal with a wish. Please let us stay. Please let us be happy.
“Because I watch you. You stare at people who kiss like you wonder what it would be like…you always get this tiny pink flare under your freckles, and then you dip your head like you’re embarrassed just thinking about it. People who have been kissed, don’t stare the way you do.”
“I hate when you do this.” My eyes were back on him. “Do what?” He stepped closer, his thumb still against my chin, but now his fingers were spread out against my jaw. “Lower your face as if you don’t belong to stay in the moment…as if you need to separate yourself from what’s going on. You do it a lot in the club.” I stared up into his eyes, letting his hand remain against my jaw. “I don’t belong there.” His thumb traced my bottom lip. “You do. You’re the only thing there that feels like home.”
“I’ll go with you to the bonfire, Penny. I’ll watch over you, and you can kiss or fuck, do whatever you want but first, you’ll have this.” He stepped so close our faces were merely an inch apart, now both his hands cradled my face. My breathing had become shallow, so not to break this moment or scare him away. “Have what?” I whispered, my eyes still clinging to his. A tiny spark of fire slid against my bottom lip as he moved the pad of his thumb over it again. “Me,” he rasped, just a singular second before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine.
There, on a cold October night, Jameson King stole my first kiss in the middle of the street.
I wanted Jameson to want me. I wanted him to want my heart. I wanted him to crave me the way I did him. Still, I knew he wouldn’t. That moment, stolen in time, would become a wildflower pressed into my journal. A wish and a whispered prayer for someone I knew I could never have for myself.
“They’d have to believe it.” “But it’d be fake.” I needed to clarify. His steady gaze revealed nothing as he nodded. “Behind closed doors, but in public, you’d be mine.”
“Look, I know the idea of being married to me doesn’t hold that much appeal, but it’s only temporary.” “Stop it—” I snapped, “don’t act like I wouldn’t be honored to have you as my husband, Jameson. That was never our issue, and you know it.”
“My concern is you. I can’t stomach you giving up anymore of your life for me, Jamie. I know you promised my mom, but this is going too far. This would mean you couldn't flirt or go anywhere that anyone could see you if you needed to…be with someone. This would mean you’d have to—”
Jameson shook his head back and forth. “Stop defending him. Just fucking stop, Pen. I have been there for you. Me. I have sacrificed.” He pointed at his chest, walking closer. “I have given up my club, my home, everything I know, all to keep you safe. Yet at the mere idea of marrying me, you start making up some bullshit about Luke.”
“The truth is…the idea of you settling or sacrificing any more of your life for me is so unacceptable to me that I would literally rather be homeless or throw my hope at the very man who rejected and humiliated me, just to save you the trouble of giving up your freedom for me. I’m not worth it, Jamie. I never have been, why do you think—” I stopped because he really didn’t need to know how pathetic I’d been all this time. “I’m not waiting for Luke. I don’t want Luke, but I also don’t want you to give up your life, and you shouldn’t have to tie yourself to a sinking ship or lose your club just
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“You have to just trust that this is what I want, Pen. I’ve never done anything I didn’t want to do. I could hand you off to someone else or find someone to keep you. Hell, I could leave now and just trust the Stone Riders to keep you safe. I want to be here, and I want to do this. Please trust that.”
okay, back up…you are fake marrying the man who looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and we’re focusing on him moving in. We need to focus on the fact that there is no way this marriage is fake for him.
If you were mine, I’d kill anyone who told me to let another man touch you. I’d burn down the club before letting someone feel what’s mine. Within the club, the only other thing that is sacred is our women, the ones we claim, the ones we choose. If you were mine, I’d tell Tuck to go fuck himself and if he tried to hurt me, then I’d welcome the carnage.”
“You’re worth more than this, Pen. Get the fuck out of this club and do something with your life.”
“Well, she’s about to become my fucking wife, so you’ll get over your reservations and really fucking quickly. As for the kid…he’s mine too, and will be raised by me...”
It was as if time slipped through the cracks and fissures of lies we’d agreed on, and wound together a truth. A promise.
This wasn’t fake, and whether he agreed to it or not, I’d claim a piece of him by the end of this. Some part of that gave me hope. If I could finally find a way inside his heart, then maybe he’d let me stay there.
Harris parked next to me and gave me a small dip of his chin as I walked toward the clubhouse. “Miss Penelope?” he called out to me, which made me turn around. He was tall, nearly six three or four. Broad muscle and faded ink covered the places on his arms that weren’t covered by leather. I liked his beard and kind eyes. “Would it be a bother if I helped you out of the car from now on?” I nearly gawked at him. No one cared if I had trouble getting in and out of my car. No one but Jamie. Feeling a strange burning in my throat, I nodded. “Fine by me.” His chin dipped again, and he smiled.
I never had kids, but I see you and Callie, even Laura and Natty and I think of you all like daughters in a way. Just in the sense that I can watch out for you. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thank you for letting me.” It was the hormones that made me tear up. And definitely the reason I walked over and wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you, Harris. I haven’t ever had anyone look out for me. I’m honored that it’s you.”
She didn’t need to know that I couldn’t sleep at night because I was so worried about where she might be. Or that sometimes I felt sick when I thought about how our last interaction went.
I’d never rob my daughter the joy of discovering someone loved her.”
“You forget, Jameson, that I’m her mother and I’ve watched you both since you were thirteen years old. I was there that first day you met. While Penny assumed you didn’t like her, I knew the truth. You were always watching Pen, and I may be the only person on earth that noticed, but I did notice.”
She was tempting, and all I wanted was to lean her back and fuck her. But that would not be good for our complicated—fake dynamic. Or would it? She was stressed, and likely sexually frustrated…and I…well, I had to prove to everyone that this was real. Why couldn’t I touch her a little extra?
Stardust. Silent prayers and hope. So much hope it would burst through my chest and break my fucking heart.
She was sweet and smelled like spring and winter at the same time.
She smelled like honey wrapped in pine. The scent was smeared into my soul now, like a balm of hope.
This was fucking ridiculous; she hadn’t even done anything but exist. But the idea of existing with her, so fucking close was too much for me.
I want to be able to help people if they needed it, be my own boss. I want to buy my own house, and one day have a wife and be a dad. I want a life full of laughter and smiles.
Did you know ravens remember faces? I think I’d like to be one in another life…if that sort of thing is possible, but if I were one, I know I’d remember yours, Penelope.
Who knows, maybe Jamie will get over himself and let you in that ironclad chest of his. Fuck knows no one else is in there,
