Page 63 of Hash

Cyrus holds his hands up, the easy going smile never wavering; in fact, I think it increased. “Whatever you want, brother.”

If looks could kill, the glare Hash is sending him right now would do it.

The funny thing is though, Cyrus doesn’t even look fazed. I think he’s enjoying this.

“He was just saying hi,” I tell Hash, trying to make this entire situation not so fucking awkward.

I think Hash is forgetting I don’t know these people. I don’t know how they act and what’s normal or not normal to them.

Hash’s gaze flicks down to me before he places a hand at the small of my back. “Come on, the girls are in the kitchen.”

He nudges me forward, guiding me toward the wide opening past the bar and into the kitchen.

The kitchen is massive, to say the least. It looks like it was taken right out of a restaurant. But I guess you would need one this size with a family like this. Random assortments of food are scattered across the island along with multiple crock pots and food warmers plugged into the walls.

“We kind of do a fend for yourself style. There’s no formal sit down, it’s not our style. You hungry?” Hash asks as I nod along as he explains everything to me.

It seems pretty straightforward, and I like that there’s not a formal sit-down. Growing up, whenever my parents tried to do a family dinner, it always felt awkward and forced.

“Um—”

“Hash!” a large man with a thick dark beard and a snake tattoo slithering up his neck yells as he saunters into the kitchen, interrupting me. “Hello,” he ends on a grunt as he notices me standing there.

I’m stuck standing there like a deer caught in headlights as I take him in.

I thought Hash looked a little scary when I first met him, but this man looks downright mean. Grumpy and mean.

“Aisling, this is my Prez, Cain. Cain, this is Aisling,” Hash introduces us.

“How are ya, babe?” his voice is low, sending a shiver down my spine. “Is this the little guy?” Cain looks at Cormac, who is still on my hip.

“Hi,” I squeak out, wincing at myself. God, I need to get a grip and stop embarrassing myself. Clearing my throat, I say, “This is Cormac.” I move my hip toward Cain as Cormac chews on his teether, drool dripping down his chin.

“We need to get him a baby cut.” Cain’s hard expression turns into a genuine smile, making me stare at him in awe as he takes in Cormac.

Who knew a baby would make these biker men go all soft?

“Already on it,” Hash replies, rubbing the top of his head.

He was?

“I need to borrow your man for a second. If you head out that door,” Cain points to the one he just came through. “the girls are out back.”

“You good?” Hash leans into my ear and asks. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

What else am I supposed to say with his president watching my every move? No, I don’t want you to leave me because you haven’t introduced me to everyone yet? I’m not trying to make these guys hate me the first time I’m meeting them.

Hash nods. “I’ll meet you out back when I’m done.”

“Okay.” I try to give him the best reassuring smile I can muster, but it feels wonky.

I watch Hash and Cain leave the kitchen, leaving me to fend for myself. I decide it’s best to get meeting everyone out of the way instead of hiding in here by myself, which I would rather do.

I’m kicking myself for not asking Hash if Frankie could come. One familiar face would have made me feel so much more at ease.

A gasp sounds loudly throughout the backyard as soon as I step outside.