It had seemed counterintuitive, at first, for me to want to join Hell’s Ankhor. For one, it was filled with the kinds of guys that usually made me nervous: big, broad, boisterous, aggressive men who could easily snap me in half if they wanted to. I’d almost turned down the job at Custom Ankhs when I’d gotten it, about three years ago now, because Maverick’s sheer size had spooked me.
But he’d been so kind, and I’d been determined to get over some of my stupid hang-ups. I didn’t want my past to have that much power over me anymore, and the only way to do that was to face what I was afraid of. So I’d accepted the job, and what was supposed to be just a part-time job to hold me over while I was in school became so much more.
I’d always needed structure to thrive, and for a lot of my life, I hadn’t had much. But I performed my best when I knew exactly what was expected of me, and when I had others around me to lean on for support and instruction. School provided some of that, and the club filled in the gaps. Suddenly I went from floating aimlessly into a business degree, unsure of what I was going to do with it, to having a trajectory. A plan, a focus.
To having a family again.
“Oh, by the way, I’m supposed to tell you to hang around for a few minutes after breakfast instead of heading straight to Custom Ankhs. Blade wants to have a quick meeting with you.” Jazz glanced at the oven. “Aw, shit, Tex, will you get the toast out?”
Tex swore and hurried to pull the sheet pan of toast out of the oven, but all of it was basically blackened already, and the kitchen filled with the acrid smell of charred bread.
“A meeting?” I asked, tuning out the chaos. I wasn’t nervous, per se, but I didn’t love going into meetings blind. I preferred to have at least an idea of what was on the agenda. “What about?”
“Dunno, I’m just supposed to keep you from being your workaholic self and leaving for work early.” Jazz grimaced at Tex. “Any of it salvageable?”
“I’ll eat it,” I said, laughing. “Nothing wrong with a little smoky flavor.”
“Love your positive attitude,” Jazz deadpanned. “It’s all yours.”
As Tex fixed plates for the three of us, I couldn’t help but wonder what my dad and my brothers would think of me now. They’d always been so confident that I’d never be a real man, too sensitive and small and bookish—and yet here I was, a fully patched-in member of a motorcycle club. Against all odds.
But even if they did know, they’d still think it was a fluke, something I lucked my way into. They’d still consider me worthless, something less than a man. I was the black sheep of the family—well, more like the tiny sheep. They’d all been tall, broad, and well over six feet tall. I was short and skinny like Mom was, and ever since she walked out on us, Dad and my brothers had hated me. Like they could get back at Mom through me, since I took after her.
Well, I might be blood related to them, but I didn’t consider them family. Not anymore. Not since I joined Hell’s Ankhor and learned what a real family was all about.
“Hey, stick your head outside and grab the guys,” Jazz said, taking the frying pan off the stove. “At least the eggs look good.”
I nodded and stood up. As I walked toward the open back door, Jazz called, “And don’t say anything about the toast!”
I looked over my shoulder to tease him, stepping over the threshold onto the back porch—and walked directly into a broad, rock-hard chest, with muscles straining against a white button-up shirt.
Dante raised his eyebrows as he looked down his nose at me. His pale blue eyes stood out sharply against his light brown skin, and the stubble along his jaw made his gorgeous bone structure look even more defined. My stomach somersaulted. He was so fucking attractive it was—overwhelming. I simultaneously wanted to get closer and push him away.
I’d never been attracted to a guy like him before, huge and stoic and masculine, and honestly it kind of scared me. I had no fucking idea to do with this type of attraction, the intensity of the attraction, especially when at the same time, my stupid brain was yelling, run