Prologue

6 months earlier

“All right. The meeting is set for two hours from now. Everyone know their parts? Any questions?” Blue went over the plan in his head one more time.

He and Slate would go to the meet with Cole and Ruger following behind in a van with the guns and cash. While they were all meeting with Slay and his boys from the Demons of Havoc, Trojan and Shooter would be taking the rest of the guns and the drugs that had not been sold yet and dump them in the Demons’ back yard where they would easily be found.

Once the crisis with the Demons was dealt with, Blue planned on calling everyone into Church to discuss possible business ventures that would make them money and keep them out of prison. The money they took from Mayhem would last only so long. They were giving a large chunk to the Demons just to get them out of Mayhem’s mess.

After riding together for almost an hour, Trojan and Shooter veered off, heading toward the Demons’ clubhouse for a special delivery. The rest of the group would continue on to the designated meeting place.

It wasn’t much longer until they were pulling off onto a deserted gravel lot where a gas station once stood. It was in the middle of nowhere and located halfway between both clubs. The wide open area, surrounded by flat, grassy fields, was a good place to do business. No places to set up for a sneak attack by either club.

They arrived first and checked things out. Blue prayed the deal went down without a hitch. If not, the Demons of Havoc would be in need of a new president and however many members he brought with him because there was no way a hit on one of the Landry brothers or any Minion was ever going to happen. If that’s how things played out, there would be war between the two clubs. The Minions would have to take down the entire DOH club and he didn’t want that for his brothers.

The sound of motorcycle pipes could be heard in the distance and getting closer, announcing the arrival of Slay and his crew. Once the other club came to a stop and shut off their bikes, both sides slowly dismounted and moved to meet toward the middle.

His gaze fastened on their leader and his loose-hipped swagger. He found it amusing that Slay favored the actor Sam Elliott so much. From his tall, lean build to his gray hair falling to his collar to the matching bushy Fu Manchu mustache hiding his cocky grin. He could almost bet due to his resemblance to the actor, the man never slept alone unless he wanted it that way.

“So, you’re the new man in charge now,” Slay began. It was more of a statement of fact than a question. Smiling huge, he chuckled. “Didn’t like the direction Mayhem was taking the club, huh?”

Blue felt it was a rhetorical question. Obviously, the statement was true or Slay wouldn’t be standing here dealing with him. “How ‘bout we cut to the chase?” He wanted this over and done with. He knew no matter what he offered, Slay was going to jack him around to test his strength as a leader. That and for the hell of it.

“Sure. You said you had money and guns for me? In exchange for what?”

“Yes. We’ll give you all the guns you sold to Mayhem, and we’ll also pay you street value for them along with the drugs you wanted him to sell.” When Slay didn’t immediately respond, he added, “That has you coming out way ahead.”

He gave the man a minute to let that soak in before he laid down his terms. “In exchange, the Demons will stay clear of Kingston. It’s Hell’s Minions territory and we will not tolerate any drugs, guns or women being sold in our town. Any Demon spotted in Kingston will be dealt with swiftly and harshly.”

Blue watched Slay mull it over, the man’s jaw ticking the only outward sign he didn’t like his tone or demands. Pit, on the other hand, didn’t bother trying to hide his feelings on the matter. If the way his mouth kicked up in a snarl wasn’t indication enough, his next statement was. “Fuck you, Minion. No way in hell you can tell us what to do. Hell, your club is weak right now or you wouldn’t be here begging for a truce between us like a bunch of pussies.”

Slay’s attention sliced to Pit. He growled, “Shut the fuck up or you can go sit in the van. I’m still in charge and best you not forget it.”

Blue wasn’t sure what just transpired between the DOH president and his VP, but it didn’t look good. If he had to guess, Slay was going to be having some problems within his own club sometime soon.

“Is that what you think?” Blue looked from Viper to Slay. “That we’re pussies?” He took a step closer to the VP, engaging in a stare down.

Slay wasn’t a fool. He knew that no matter how they sliced it, the DOH was coming out smelling like roses. He’d be a fool to pass this deal up. “Stand down, Pit. I won’t tell you again,” he added when the man didn’t immediately do as ordered.

Once Pit backed down, Blue turned to Slay. “We on the same page so far?”

Slay slowly nod his head in agreement. “Yeah. Same page.”

“Also, there will be no hit on any of the Landry’s or any other Hell’s Minions members. Mayhem made the deal, the club didn’t. He’s the one that fucked you over and he’s been dealt with, so I don’t expect there to be any more problems between us.” Blue addressed Pit with that last part, making sure he understood where he was coming from before turning to Slay. “Do we have a deal?”

Slay stared him down, processing everything Blue put out there. Everything was a win-win for his club and he knew it. He would get paid for the guns, get the guns back and then he could turn around and sell the guns to someone else. “Agreed. No Demons or Demons’ business in Kingston. No hits on Landry’s or Minions in retaliation for Mayhem’s deal.”

Blue stepped forward and offered his hand. Both men shook, neither one looking away, then stepped away with satisfied smiles on their faces.

“What’s to keep me from going back on my word?”

“Despite our differences and lack of love for each other, I’ve always heard you’re a man of your word.” He motioned for Cole and Ruger to bring the crate over. They placed the wooden box with a black duffel on top at Slay’s feet and backed away.

The DOH president motioned for one of his guys to come forward and inspect the contents. He unzipped the duffel, quickly counted the cash and nodded his head. He then took a crowbar from the other guy and popped the top off the crate. He shook his head.

Blue rubbed his chin, “Yeah, about that. We had the rest of the guns delivered to your property along with the heroin Mayhem didn’t get sold as insurance in case you didn’t agree to terms.”

“You’re shitting me.” Slay looked a little perplexed that Blue would have thought to do something like that. He would have to reassess his opinion of the man now leading the Hell’s Minions.

“Nope.” Blue stood with his hands in his pockets and motioned for Slate to come forward. His brother pulled up a picture of a large crate with another duffel on top and turned it to Slay. He glanced at his watch, “If you leave now, you should be able to get back before the ATF shows up.”

Slay’s brows rose in disbelief. Probably shocked Blue would do something so ballsy. “I’ll be damned. Didn’t think you had it in you. Figured your old man beat it out of you a long time ago.”

“He tried.”

Slay shook his head and rubbed the whiskers on his jaw. “How long until the ATF shows up?”

“Forty-five minutes. If you call ahead, your men will find them at the back of your property, slipped through a hole in your fence,” Blue informed him. He waited to see what the other man might say.

“We’re square now, Landry. Don’t fuck with us and we won’t fuck with you. Agreed?” He stuck his hand out once more and shook Blue’s hand, sealing the deal.

He instructed his men to load up while he called ahead and instructed the ones left behind, “Clean house. Company’s comin’.” He also told them to send someone out to the back fence and pick up a delivery.

Slay sat on his bike, a shit-eating grin on his face. “This don’t make us friends, Landry,” he called above the roar of engines.

Blue smiled back and gave him a chin lift in understanding. After the last Demons’ bike roared away, he let out the breath he’d been holding ever since the meeting began. He watched as the other club rode away, kicking up dirt and gravel as they sped off in their race to beat the ATF.

“Fuck.” Slate ran a hand down his face. “I wasn’t sure which way he was leaning. Thought Pit was going to fuck it up for all of us.”

Ruger slapped a hand on Blue’s shoulder. “Damn. You did a hell of a job clearing the club of all that shit. Proud of you, Blue.”

Finally allowing himself to believe he’d pulled it off, he smiled. “I did, didn’t I? Can’t believe you fuckers doubted me.” He shoved at Ruger’s chest and turned toward his bike.

Everyone laughed at his attempt to relieve the tension that felt like a heavy blanket on a hot day. “Come on, let’s get back to the clubhouse and celebrate another victory.” He knew they had to celebrate when they could. Being part of a motorcycle club meant there was always someone out there wanting to take what was theirs. He also knew the time would come again when someone would get ballsy enough to test the Minions’ strength. And they’d be ready.

Chapter 1

Present day

Sitting in a corner booth, Blue took in his surroundings with a critical eye, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a satisfied smile. Fucking fantastic. Everything they’d been working toward had turned out just like they’d planned. Taking a deep breath, he took a minute to bask in the pride he felt knowing the Hell’s Minions Motorcycle Club was now the legal owners of a legitimate business. A business that, if run right, would lead to a life free of prison or a six-foot-deep hole in the ground.

He and his fellow Minions were equal partners in a strip club, formerly known as Spanky’s but renamed Dark Desires. They felt the new name had a classier tone to it, unlike Spanky’s which brought to mind pervy old men jacking off at their tables while watching the women taking off their clothes. They wanted a clientele that was a step up from what it once was but not high-class chic either. They wanted something in between.

They wanted a place where both blue collar and white collar could come and kick back, have a few drinks and enjoy the show, maybe even have a lap dance or two. All walks of life were welcome; welders, bankers, bikers. It was all the same to them. As long as they spent money and didn’t cause any trouble, the more the merrier.

Looking back over the last six months, buying a strip club wasn’t the only big change the Minions had undergone. Blue was voted in as president, replacing his father, Mayhem. Their father was a sadistic bastard and not missed by one single person in the club. He smiled and tipped his bottle to his lips, thrilled knowing his old man would be rolling in his grave if he knew the club used the money in his account to make the purchase. It only seemed right to the brothers considering it was money Mayhem had stolen from the club to begin with.

Also, in that time, their older biological brother, Gray, had come back into their lives. He was forced to return after Mayhem threatened Kendal’s life. Since he was going to be back, he joined his brother’s efforts to rid the Hell’s Minions Motorcycle Club once and for all of their father. It had nearly cost Gray his wife and in the end almost cost them their brother, Slate, as well.

In a last-ditch effort, their father made a desperate play and kidnapped Kendal as a way to lure the three Landry brothers to an abandoned paper mill and threatened to rape her and then let his buddies have a go at her if Slate didn’t have sex with her. Mayhem underestimated his sons. Although Slate had sex with Kendal in front of Gray to spare her untold horrors, and at great cost to his own mental state, their father hadn’t broken them. He hadn’t torn them apart. For all his machinations, the brothers stood together and beat him.

Blue’s gaze roamed around the room, taking in everything from top to bottom. He loved the layout of the club. It had not one but two bars, one on each side opposite the other, and an elevated stage for the strippers along the back wall with a catwalk that extended a little way into the audience in between. The tables were a sleek black with silver flakes mixed in and the chairs a soft black leather. They wanted their customers to feel comfortable, so they would stay longer and spend more money.

The floors were black and silver square tiles. Something they decided on after visiting some of their favorite strip clubs to figure out what would work best for them. One thing that was for certain, carpeting was out. While they’d been at one particular club that sported carpet, they witnessed way too many drinks being spilled and one man, who should’ve been cut off three drinks ago, puke all over the floor. No way in hell they wanted to be cleaning booze, puke and other disgusting stains out of their carpet every night. So, tile was decided as the better option. Hell, if it was a really bad night, they could bring in a garden hose and spray the whole fucker down and get it done all at once.

The walls were also a dull dark silver with blue lighting around the bars and in sconces placed intermittently along the walls throughout. Other than that, the majority of the lighting was coming from the stage.

His favorite feature besides the roped off VIP rooms upstairs were the round booths set up around the perimeter of the room. The seats were a soft black leather with high backs and the tables were a smoked black glass with blue lighting underneath. Not a lot of lighting but just enough. It gave a feeling of intimacy, of being separate from the rest of the club but not. You could have your own private party while still enjoying the show.

The sound system was top of the line. When the women came out on stage to do their thing, you not only heard the music playing crystal clear but felt it vibrate right through your chest and weave its way throughout your body. It helped create the perfect atmosphere for the dancers to weave their sultry webs of seduction. They’d had to pull more than one man off the stage as he got caught up in the illusion.

The favorite part of the process in opening the strip club was when the brothers got to audition the strippers. It was decided that only two hired by the previous owner would stay on and the rest would be replaced. Ruger and Shooter especially enjoyed the process. Blue, however, couldn’t devote 100% of himself to the task so he left it up to them to hire the right women. There was only one woman he wanted to see strip for him and she was relegated to friend status no matter how much chemistry sizzled between them.

Other changes, on a more personal level, occurred when Gray returned to his civilian life and shortly after, announced he and Kendal were expecting their first child. Blue and Slate could hardly wait to meet their new niece or nephew. There was a time he didn’t think he and Slate would ever be a part of Gray’s life again. He understood his brother’s need to leave the club and get back to the life he’d been living for the last ten years. The only thing that made it easier was knowing they could call or visit each other anytime they wanted.

Despite the way Gray came back to the club, it had been one of the happiest moments in Blue’s life. He had grown used to seeing him around the clubhouse and talking to him anytime he wanted and had to admit he was going to miss seeing the fucker’s face everywhere. Working together on a plan to get rid of their father reminded him of when they were young, and it was them against him. This time they won, and the club was free.

Although with all the moves the Minions made toward going forward and venturing into legal businesses, there were still outside forces trying to pull at loose strings and unravel everything they’d accomplished.

Blue wasn’t trying to kid himself into believing the Minions would one day be squeaky clean and obey the letter of the law. Nope. Living by their own rules was the way they’d lived all their lives and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon. They liked to keep things in house and deal with problems swiftly and decisively on their own.

Despite his best efforts to smooth things over with the Demons of Havoc after Mayhem tried to screw them over, he had a feeling they would be hearing from the other club somewhere down the road. Slay was their president and he was getting up there in age. He had never been a weak leader even in his prime. He had no problem getting vengeance for his club or going to war if the need came up.

His VP, the natural choice to succeed him, was a man named Pit, as in Viper. Blue had met the man on several occasions and thought it was more like the yawning black hole where the man’s soul should be kind of Pit.

If rumors were to be believed, the man didn’t always see eye to eye with his president. He felt the Demons of Havoc should’ve declared war on the Minions the very day Mayhem had missed his first payment for the guns and drugs he’d bought from them. He especially didn’t like that Slay let Mayhem buy them on credit. He felt the Sons should have declared war on the Minions and wiped them completely out. Blue knew this because Pit liked to voice his opinion loudly and with great frequency. He imagined it was his hope that word would get back to Blue and a war could be started between the two clubs. So, if Slay didn’t get a better hold on his man, things with the DOH could be heating up in the near future.

If that wasn’t enough, Blue was pretty sure there might be a mole in their ranks. He knew it had to be one of the new prospects he’d taken on five months ago but wasn’t sure which one. Was the man a plant by the DOH to try and take the Minions out from within or was it someone with a personal ax to grind? He had no clue.

Not long after renovations began at Dark Desires, there had been a break-in. Their tools were missing—meaning stolen—and the tile flooring had been busted up. A total loss. No sign of a break-in, only the large red letters SOH spray-painted on each of the mirrors behind both bars. He wasn’t convinced it was the Sons of Hades who were responsible. It wasn’t their style. They would have burned the club to the ground, not pull something a high schooler would do. Besides, their truce still held. He was betting someone was setting up the SOH. But for what reason? To start a war between the two clubs? If so, who and why?

The break-in occurred on a night in which not one single Minion was on the premises. Everyone was at the clubhouse enjoying a much-needed break from all the work they’d been doing so far. Someone mentioned they needed a break and a huge ass BBQ was thrown together. Sure, someone from another club could have eyes on the place but Blue thought that unlikely. His guess was the mole let someone know when the bar would be empty.

There was also some weird shit that went down that seemed random and unrelated. For one thing, Angus was intentionally run off the road by someone driving a black van. He’d been banged up and suffered a broken leg but still okay. Then just last night one of their strippers, Jennifer, had been attacked in the parking lot after work. Just their luck, the attack happened in the one area of the parking lot not well lit and out of camera range. Needless to say, the flaws had been corrected. Trojan and Ruger had been tasked with investigating both of the incidents. Hopefully they would have some answers soon.

Speaking of the devils, they each took a seat and slid into the booth. Their grim expressions didn’t give Blue a lot of confidence that they had the answers they needed. “So, what’ve you found out?”

Ruger motioned to a waitress and ordered himself and Trojan a beer. “Talked to both Angus and Jennifer to get their stories on what happened with each of them. Separately, they might seem suspicious but together, it’s way too coincidental.” He sat back and let the waitress place his beer in front of him. He waited until she left before continuing. “Both said there was a black van involved. Angus said the windows were tinted and it had no plates. He couldn’t see the driver. As for Jennifer, she saw the same van drive away after the guy beat her up. Black eye, bruised jaw, bruised ribs and her arm in a sling where the attacker twisted it. Doc said she was lucky it didn’t break. Won’t be dancing for at least two weeks, and only if all the bruising goes away or can be covered up and only if she isn’t in any more pain. I told her she’d have to come in for a rehearsal before she got put back on the lineup. I didn’t tell her, but if she even acts like she’s in any pain, she’s off for another week.”

Ruger might be a player with the ladies, but he absolutely hated seeing a woman hurt. Same as most of the men in the Minions. They did their best to protect any woman under their care whether it was strippers, sweet butts, old ladies, sisters or daughters. They all got the same kind of care from every brother in the club.

Blue turned to Trojan, their tech guy. “Anything on camera that’ll help?”

Trojan shook his head. “No. The attack was out of range of the camera. I’ve replaced it with one with a longer-range and we’ve installed lighting all around the back lot, making sure to eliminate any dark areas.”

Blue supposed that was the best they could do for now. It sucked but he was glad his men were on top of things.

“Still think we got a mole?” Ruger asked while focusing his attention on the stage.

Blue looked to see what Ruger’s attention was caught on. Ah. There was a particularly limber brunette on stage and he could bet that it was only a matter of time before his friend would find a way to fuck her. The guy was a complete unrepentant man-whore and Blue couldn’t imagine him any other way. “Yeah. I do. I know it could be anybody that wanted to follow us around long enough to learn our routines, but my gut says it’s someone in the club. Also think it has to be one of the new prospects.” He aimed his next question at Trojan. “You get any more info on the four new guys?”

“Yeah. Nothing’s sticking out but I’m going to dig deeper and see what comes up.”

“Sounds good. Make sure one of the guys walks the girls to their cars every night. Don’t want this kind of thing happening again.” They couldn’t afford to have their girls getting attacked. Not only was it bad business for Dark Desires but more importantly, he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting any of the women who worked for them. They were under Minions’ protection and it was their job to keep them safe.

He checked the time on his watch and knew he needed to leave. He was having dinner with Ridley at her house tonight. They’d had dinner every three to four weeks for the last five months. He had no idea why the hell he was doing this to himself. The woman was way too sexy and too good of a person for the likes of him, but he couldn’t seem to stay away either. He motioned for Ruger to scoot out, so he could get up. Squeezing the man’s shoulder when he got up, he told him, “Keep me posted.”

Making his way out to his bike, he found himself picturing Ridley’s face and it made him smile. The woman was absolutely beautiful. She had sapphire blue eyes, a small cute nose and a smile that could melt the most hardened of hearts. When she smiled, it filled her eyes and her laugh, he swore it came from her toes.

She was maybe five feet eight inches, if he had to guess, and she was mostly legs. Even though she was tall for a woman, she was still shorter than him by at least four inches even in her heels. He often fantasized about those long legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her, bringing both of them to a very satisfying climax. That particular fantasy usually led to a self-gratification session in the shower. Being he had that fantasy often, the number of showers he was taking was getting embarrassing.

Her shoulder-length blonde hair was layered around her face and looked like it was streaked by the sun. He loved how she would pile it on top of her head whenever she was trying to do something to keep it out of her way. He could just picture her coming home from work in her prim, professional clothes and stripping her down to see how dirtied up he could get her.

Well hell. Thanks to his wandering mind, he was going to have a very uncomfortable ride until he could get his erection under control. From past experience, it would take almost the entire ride there to tame the beast. And didn’t that just sound like a long, fun ride?



Ridley pulled her car into the garage and waited for the door to close before getting out. She stepped into the kitchen and for the third time in as many weeks, she got a weird vibe when she walked in. Like something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it exactly. The first time she came home to the feeling, she found her television was still on. She liked to listen to the news in the background while eating breakfast every morning, so it was possible she’d forgotten to turn it off before she left, but she was borderline OCD about things like that.

Growing up in a small single-wide trailer, she often felt smothered, like she didn’t have enough room to move. Everything felt too closed in. Her mother was sick a lot while she was growing up so the burden of keeping the house clean fell on her shoulders. She loved her dad to death, but he was the world’s biggest pack rat. He hated to throw anything away, saying he might find a use for it in the future. Because of her inability to control how things ran in her home when she was younger, she was very orderly and particular about how things were in her own home now.

That led to her noticing the second time she felt something off in her house. The recliner in the living room wasn’t pushed all the way in. Blue had been there the night before, so she doubted it was him. He always sat on the couch with her when he visited. It kind of creeped her out thinking someone could’ve been in her home. But how? Who? Why?

She probably should have said something to Blue but what was she going to say? Hey, I’ve been having weird things happening in my home and it’s giving me the creeps. Then when he asked what kind of things, she would answer well, this one time I came home to my television being on and then another time the recliner wasn’t completely pushed in. Yes, I know I sound a little OCD, but I know something is off. Then he’d come up with some rational reason for these things and she’d feel like a complete idiot.

But this time, she wasn’t sure what it was. It was just a feeling. She shook herself out of the horror movie visual she was getting and placed her purse on the counter, dropped her duffel bag with her clothes covered in vomit in the laundry room and made her way to the master bedroom so she could get a quick shower before she started dinner. Blue was coming over.

She stripped her clothes and dropped them in the hamper. Turning the shower on and adjusting the temperature, she couldn’t help but think of Blue. The man was too hot for words. He stood around six feet four inches and had the sexiest swagger she’d ever seen on a man. Just thinking about the way he walked had her heart rate jumping. She loved the way his faded, worn blue jeans hugged his long legs. And of course, his t-shirt fit like a spray-on tan. She could make out every single definition of his six-pack abs. His dark wavy hair came to his shoulders. He sometimes pulled it into a small ponytail at the back of his head or the occasional man bun—which was panty-melting hot—but when he wore it down, it fell in such perfect waves she was quite frankly jealous. His eyes were the grey of the fog that settled over a lake in the misty morning. What really hit her hard was when he flashed those two gorgeous dimples her way. It literally took her breath away.

Mentally chastising herself for going there again and fantasizing about a man who didn’t want more than friendship from her, she went about washing her hair and shaving her legs. Just because the man didn’t think her the least bit sexy didn’t mean she couldn’t feel sexy for herself.

As she was getting dressed, she slipped into a pair of red lace panties and a matching lace bra and couldn’t help but chuckle at herself for putting a pair of yoga pants and a tank top over it. Glancing at the pictures on her dresser, she thought one of them had been moved. Yeah. She was anal about where things were supposed to be. Leaning forward, she noted the streak in the light dust on her dresser from where it had been disturbed. It was only a small distance but still, it kind of freaked her out. Again, she wondered if someone had been in her house.

Before she could fly into a full-blown trip into crazy town, she heard her door bell ring. That should be Blue, and she hadn’t started cooking yet. Damn it.

She hurried to the door and checked through the peep hole. Smiling, she stepped back and waved him inside. “Hey. How was your ride?”

Blue smiled, genuinely happy to see her. Ridley’s welcoming smile always made him feel like he was home. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time and it only happened with her. He stepped in and kissed her cheek before shutting the door behind him. Fuck, she smelled good.

“Come on in and make yourself at home. It was a day from hell and I’m running behind.” She led the way to the kitchen and reached for a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, passing it to Blue as he took a seat at the table.

“That’s fine. I’m a little earlier than usual.” He twisted the top off and drank from his bottle, watching Ridley flit around the kitchen, pulling out pots, pans, meat and vegetables. “Why was your day a day from hell?”

Dumping hamburger in a bowl, she went about adding the ingredients for a meatloaf. As she mixed it all together with her hands, she explained. “Well, let’s see. There was two different MVAs—Motor Vehicle Accidents—which brought in six injured people, one critical. We had a dog bite, a possible heart attack, a pregnant woman went into labor six weeks early and two drug seekers.” She explained when he raised a brow in question, “They have drug addiction issues and fake heart attacks to get to the head of the line and all they want are narcotics.” She pulled out her baking dish and dumped the meatloaf in it then shaped it into the form she wanted. “The highlight of my day, though, was a five-year-old little boy who had a possible fractured arm. He was in a lot of pain, screaming and crying. He didn’t want us near his arm so we could get a look at it. He was so distraught that he threw up down the front of my clothes. Luckily, I carry a spare set in a bag I keep in my locker.”

“Yeah. That sounds pretty shitty. Beats my day.” Hearing Ridley laugh brought a smile to his face. Even on his worst days she could get him to laugh. One more reason the woman was the whole package. Sadly, not a package meant for him.

The package included her beautiful sun-streaked blonde hair piled in a messy bun high on the back of her head. He could see her hair was still wet from a recent shower but there were still a few loose ends falling around her flawless face. It also included a laugh so infectious he was helpless not to laugh right along with her. When she was laughing or smiling, her pretty blue eyes reminded him of the surface of his favorite mountain lake. They lit up like fireworks in July and he was hard-pressed not to fall right into them. Ridley was tall for a woman, but she never appeared to be uncomfortable with her height. She carried herself with grace and confidence. That, too, was sexy as hell. He really loved it when she was wearing form-fitting workout pants and a tank like she was tonight. It showcased her long legs and fit, trim body. Yeah, not a package for him. But a man could dream.

Damn. Watching Blue’s dimples pop out as he laughed at her run down of her day from hell made her stomach flutter. The man was gorgeous but when those dimples came out, he was freaking hot. So hot, her panties damn near melted.

“Tell me about your day. How’s Angus doing?” Ridley turned to the sink and began peeling potatoes, half turned so she could listen to Blue.

“Doing pretty good, all things considered. Got all the sweet butts jumping through hoops to help him out. You’d think he was in traction or something instead of having a broken leg.” He chuckled and took another drink. “He really enjoys the sponge baths.”

“I bet he does.” Ridley chuckled, knowing any red-blooded man would never say no to a sponge bath.

“You don’t understand. He gets a sponge bath at least twice a day, sometimes three.”

“The girls don’t seem to mind?” She began cutting up the potatoes and putting them in a pot.

“No. Those goofy women love doting on his sorry ass.” He couldn’t begrudge the man, though. If he was in his shoes, in a time before he met Ridley, he’d be milking it, too.

With the meatloaf in the oven and the potatoes ready to start, she pulled out the ingredients to make an apple pie. She paused at the sugar canister. Sugar was sprinkled on the counter as if someone had helped themselves to some and left a mess of what missed their cup.

“What’s wrong?” Blue noticed immediately when Ridley’s back went stiff. Something upset her.

“Uh, nothing. It’s nothing. Just some spilled sugar on the counter I guess I forgot to clean up.” Taking a washcloth from the sink, she swiped up the mess and continued with putting her pie together.

Blue knew Ridley well enough by now and knew she was almost OCD about her home. She didn’t like messes. Even the smallest. She liked everything in its proper place. If there was sugar on the counter, it wasn’t because she forgot to clean it up. Before he could ask if there was anything else out of place, she asked a question of her own. “How are things going with Dark Desires?”

He understood her need to change the subject, although it wasn’t a pleasant one for him. “One of our strippers, Jennifer, was jumped in the parking lot last night.” When she gasped in shock, he hurried to reassure her. “She’s okay now.”

“What happened?”

“The guy shoved her to the ground on our gravel lot and attacked her. She scraped her face, hands and knees when she hit the rock. Before she could recover from the shock, the fucker flipped her over and started punching her in the face. He gave her a black eye and several bruises on her face. Then right before he left, he kicked her in the ribs. Oh, he also twisted her arm pretty hard, but the doctor said it wasn’t broken. The worst was the fear she felt not knowing who was doing it to her and why. Ruger said the doctor told her she’ll be out of work at least two weeks, if not longer.”

“Did you guys find the person who did it?”

“Not yet.”

She understood the but we will implied in his statement. She had no doubt they would find the person. One of the things she really liked about the Hell’s Minions MC, and especially since Mayhem was gone, was that the club was like a family. They looked out for each other and had each other’s backs in everything. If someone needed help with something, the others were there. She put the finishing touches on her pie and set it aside to bake when the meatloaf was finished. She grabbed a glass of wine for herself then sat down across from Blue and talked about anything that came to mind until dinner was finished.

“Damn, woman. You keep feeding me like that and I’m going to gain fifty pounds.” He sat back and rubbed his full stomach, smiling like a content cat. “Where in the hell did you learn to cook like that?”

He loved to tease her. They’d gone over this before, but she reminded him once more. “My grandmother. My mom was sick a lot, so my grandmother would come over and cook for us or I’d spend time at her house and she’d teach me things.”

She stood to gather the dishes, but Blue stopped her. “I got this. You just put the leftovers away.”

She smiled when he took the plates and things to the sink, rinsed them and stuck them in the dishwasher. It made her heart trip seeing a big, bad, hot man doing little things like helping with the dishes. He took up a lot of room in her kitchen and she loved it. If she was completely honest with herself, she liked to pretend that they were together and that they could do this every night. He made her feel safe and a little special.

Finishing up in the kitchen, they made their way to the living room and each took up a spot at either end of the couch. She handed Blue the remote and told him to find whatever he wanted to watch. He flipped through until he found a scary movie.

Halfway through, he smiled to himself when he looked over and saw her with her knees drawn up to her chest, her hands fisted on top and her eyes bugging out of her head. He reached over and latched onto her wrist, pulling her toward him. “Come here, scaredy cat.”

Ridley jumped at the feel of Blue’s hand around her wrist. He pulled her across the couch effortlessly and into his side. He handed her a throw pillow to hide behind and put his arm on the back of the couch behind her. She loved that he remembered little things like that. He knew she was a big ole chicken when it came to scary movies.

Times like these, she liked to imagine that he wouldn’t be going home tonight, that he would stay. As many times as she’d hinted at it, the man was stubbornly obtuse, or he really didn’t think of her that way. Not as a woman he’d like to spend time with as more than friends.

The movie finished, and Blue got up to go. This was the part of their visit she hated the most. He’d get up as soon as the movie was over and head to the door. She’d walk him to the door and wait for him to kiss the top of her head. Really? She felt like a little sister when he did that.

True to form, they both went to the door and before he unlocked it, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “G’night, Ridley.”

Oh my God! She was about to lose her mind. She couldn’t take any more. If the subtle hints weren’t clear, maybe she should be a little bolder. As he turned toward the door, she blurted, “Blue.” Once he faced her, she took ahold of his cut in both hands and pulled him down, bringing their lips together. His mouth opened in surprise and she took full advantage of his shock.

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