Page 39 of Sainte
Once we’re outside, Honey begins to talk. I shake my head. “No, not now,” I say. I get on my bike, put my helmet on, and start the engine. Honey gets her helmet on and gets on the bike. I back out of the parking space, and we make our way back to the clubhouse.
When we get back and Honey dismounts from the bike, she stands there tapping her foot until I cut off the engine. Once it’s quiet, she asks, “What was that all about?”
“I’m acting on a hunch. Tomorrow night, we’re going to be a couple in love looking for… what did she say?Something different?”
Her hand immediately goes to her hip and she stomps her foot. “I’m not sleeping with you again, Sainte. If this is some ploy for you to get back in my pants, it ain’t happening.”
I can’t help the grin that crosses my face. “Remember the part when I said if I tell you to jump, you ask how high?”
She shakes her head. “That did not include sexual favors!” She argues.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, darlin’.” I laugh as I get off my bike, hang my helmet, and walk inside the clubhouse, leaving Honey still standing outside.
Chapter 14
Honey
That man is so infuriating! I stomp inside the clubhouse and slam the door behind me. Ice, Emma, Sainte, and Rebel are sitting at the bar, and they all look up.Oh, fuck! I have to behave.“Sorry, didn’t mean to slam the door.”
Sainte laughs at me again, which is pissing me off.I swear, one of these days, I’m gonna get payback.
“Just so you all know, the door slamming is my fault.” He comes to my rescue before they all think the worst. It only pisses me off more.
I walk up to the bar, and for the first time since we left for the spa, I think about getting some coke. Riding on Sainte’s bike and the whole time we were there, I didn’t think about it once. Now that I am back, and Hawk’s absence is staring me in the face, I want it. Fuck, I don’t just want it. I need it. I have to keep myself occupied.
“Whatcha all doing?” I ask, my voice a little shaky.
“Just hanging around, nothing going on. It’s been a quiet afternoon,” Emma answers.
“Well, I guess I should go start dinner.” I start to walk toward the kitchen, but Sainte grabs my arm.
“Nope, Emma is cooking tonight.”
“But I’m fine. I can handle dinner,” I say in protest.
He pulls me close and speaks a little lower. “You are not fine. I could see the change the minute you walked into the clubhouse.”
“It will help if I keep busy.”
He shakes his head. “No, it won’t.” He pauses and looks at Emma. “Besides, Emma’s already started dinner.” He releases his hold on me and says, “I need a few minutes with Ice. I’m sure Emma can use some help though. Why don’t you hang out here with her, and I’ll be back in a few. Then we can work through this.”
I give him the evil eye, but I know I can’t win this fight, so I nod. He stands from the barstool, and he and Ice walk toward Ice’s office.I wonder what that is about. Probably the spa, I would guess.
When the boys are out of earshot, Emma turns toward me. “Come on, Honey. I could use some help. It’s getting harder and harder being on my feet and all.” She struggles to get off her barstool but manages to touch down with both feet. Hobbes gets up and stands next to her. That damn dog is devoted to her. I wonder if he is over protective with her because she is pregnant. Do dogs sense those things?
I take a good look at Emma, and for the first time, I notice she looks a little run-down. I’m sure she’s just tired. As much as I hate that she is pregnant with Ice’s kid, I hope she and the baby are okay.
I stop. It’s time to face the truth. I really don’t hate that she is pregnant with Ice’s baby. They are definitely meant to be together, and Ice with me was nothing but a fantasy for me. He never looked at me the way he looks at her. You can see the love he has for her radiating from him.
“How are you feeling?” I ask as we walk into the kitchen.
She sighs. “I have good days and bad days. I feel tired all the time, and fat.” She laughs, and I join her.
“You’re about due, aren’t you?” I can’t remember if she’s almost ready or if she’s still got time left.
She smiles but rolls her eyes. “Still seven weeks to go.”
I nod, hoping she keeps the conversation going. I miss the days when we used to be friends. I guess in her mind, we still are friends, but I’ve been so distant and angry with her. Sometimes I can’t even remember why.
