“Good, because we’re going to have to be ready to strike Blade’s crew when the time comes.”
He scowled at me. “Hold on one second. Who said that would be the plan?”
“Well, I’m not fucking taking on Black Deeds. You said it, now’s not the time to go to war with them. And certainly not over this for fucks sake.”
“Scott’s right,” Griff interjected.
Dad was quiet for a moment, assessing what had been said. “Well, nothing’s settled now and if it comes to it, we’ll take a meeting.”
I nodded. “Agreed.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dad said, and then left Griff and I alone.
“This isn’t going to end well,” Griff murmured as he watched Dad go.
“I hear you, brother. I fucking hear you.”
Chapter 16
Harlow
Looking around the room, I tried to get my bearings. I wasn’t in my bed but I hadn’t woken up enough to instantly remember where I was. Mornings weren’t my best time; I needed coffee to function properly before nine o’clock. I took in the grey feature wall to my left, the black and grey colour scheme, and the Harley Davidson print on the wall, and realised I was in Scott’s bedroom. It came back to me; after Lisa had gone to sleep in Scott’s spare room, I’d decided to lie down until he got home. He must have come home late because I’d fallen asleep, and now it was morning. The early morning light was filtering through his grey curtains; my watch said six thirty.
The bathroom called so I dragged myself out of bed and went in search of it. Scott’s home had surprised me. I’d expected messy and undecorated. In reality, it was clean, homely and had some decoration in the form of bike prints, rugs on the wood floor, and I’d even noticed a plant in the kitchen. His house was a Queenslander; I loved the wood and the wrap around verandahs. He’d obviously spent time and money looking after it too because it was in immaculate condition inside and out.
As I walked down the hallway, I glanced at the photos he’d hung on the wall. There was one of an older couple that I suspected could be his parents; looked like his dad was a biker too. The woman in the photo looked like the kind of woman you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of; tough, and the way she was holding the man was very territorial and protective. In the next photo, I recognised Nash and J. There were some other men in this photo that I didn’t know. I really liked this photo, Scott looked happy in it and I bet if I could zoom in on it, I’d see his crinkled eyes. Moving my gaze along the wall, I came to a photo of a gorgeous, blonde standing next to Scott who had his arm around her. And this photo had been taken close so I could definitely make out crinkled eyes.
I lingered over that photo. She was beautiful, and they looked so happy and carefree together. I was overcome with a strong desire to know who she was and what she meant to Scott.
“That’s Summer; my cousin,” a soft voice breathed into my ear.
I was startled and jumped a little. Scott had come up behind me without me even realising. His body was pressed against my back and his breath tickled my ear and neck when he spoke. My skin tingled and butterflies took over my stomach.
I turned and sucked in my breath at the sight of his naked chest that glistened with drops of water. His hair was also wet. I desperately wanted to trail my eyes down his body to see the rest of him but I maintained eye contact instead. And oh, holy mother of God, his eyes were crinkled as he watched me. The butterflies whooshed out of me and desire took hold.
“She’s beautiful,” I finally managed to get out; his closeness was affecting my ability to think straight.
He took a step back and I caught a glimpse of the towel he was wearing. Pointing at the photos he said, “That’s my parents and those are the boys from my club.”
“I guessed that was your parents. They look like they’re still happy together.” Although Madison had told their story, the photo told a different story and I wanted to hear what Scott had to say about it.
He scoffed at that. “It’s funny how the outside world can be deceived into thinking something is a certain way. Appearances can be very fucking misleading,” he jabbed his finger at the photo, “My parents aren’t happy, and any happiness they did have was a fucking lie.”
I took in what he’d said, looked at the photo again, and then back at him. “You’re right, things aren’t always what they seem.”
“In my experience, Harlow, things are never as they fucking seem.”
His voice had a hard edge to it, and I wondered at what he’d seen and lived through in his life. “Not always, but sometimes they are exactly as they seem,” I murmured, “We’ve just got to open our eyes a little more and when we do see it, we have to believe it the first time and stop second guessing ourselves.”
Scott’s eyes widened a little, and he leant an arm against the wall. I couldn’t help but stare at his arm muscles as he did this; like I said, I had a weakness for arms, and getting a close up of his bare arms like this could not be wasted. “Fuck,” was all he said for a moment. His eyes searched mine, and then he said, “They don’t make chicks like you around here.”
I had no idea what that meant but the mood felt heavy, and I felt the need to lighten it. “I’m all country, baby,” I joked, throwing a wink at him, “Now, where’s your bathroom?”
He smiled and his eyes crinkled again. Shaking his head at me, he said, “You’re something fucking else, you know that?” Pointing at a door down the hall, he directed, “Toilet and shower in there, towels in the cupboard if you want to take a shower.”
“Thanks, I think I will.”
I felt his eyes burning into me as I walked away from him. When I reached the bathroom, I turned to see if he was still standing there. He was, and the look of desire written across his face sent heat through my body until all my nerve endings were alive with that same desire. It couldn’t be denied any longer; I wanted Scott Cole. Simple as that.
I found Scott on his back verandah after I’d finished my shower. He was leaning against the railing, drinking coffee.
“You want a coffee?” he asked, pushing off the railing.
Smiling, I answered, “You have no idea how much I want a coffee. Yes, please.”
He nodded, and went inside. I watched him go; he was dressed in the familiar jeans, black t-shirt and his cut. I’d had no idea that’s what they called their vest; my mother had enlightened me. I was so clueless about bikers.
“How long have you been a member of Storm?”
“Grew up in it. My Dad’s the President.” He held up the sugar with a questioning look, to which I shook my head, no. Putting it back down, he asked, “Milk?”
“Yes please, but not too much. And I like my coffee strong.”
A couple of minutes later we were back outside, enjoying our morning coffee and the gorgeous spring morning. It was my favourite time of the year, warm without the brutal heat that a Queensland summer can bring.
“Time for you to spill, babe. What was wrong with Lisa last night?” Scott swiveled to face me.
“Girl stuff.” I really didn’t want to get into it with him; one, because I was fairly sure once he knew what it was he would rather not know, and two, I didn’t want to break Lisa’s confidence.
He cocked his head with a confused look. “What girl stuff?”
I sighed. “Okay, just remember you asked for this and you can’t let on to Lisa that you know. She got her period for the first time last night. That kind of girl stuff.”