move my head past him to glimpse through the giant front window glistening in the sun.
Void chuckles, trying to keep up with me as he continues to undo the strap. “You’re like a freaking toddler, Ivy!”
I giggle and stop. “Sorry. Just excited to be out.”
Finally, he manages to pull the helmet off my head, and I run my fingers through my hair. He reaches over and places the helmet on the seat of the bike with an exhale. “I should have taken you out sooner.”
“No, stop, it’s not your fault. There were extenuating circumstances. Then, if I’m honest, I didn’t really want to be anywhere but in the Brick Cell, you know? It felt like safety, it felt like home.”
He drops his chin once in recognition. “I know. Still, I could have tried. After Andrés—”
I reach out, gripping his arm. “We’re here now. Let’s go have some of this pie.”
Void slides his hand down over mine, and we entwine our fingers.
Tingles.
Goosebumps break out all over me.
My heart gallops, taking off at breakneck speed as we head for the door. How Void can infuriate me to the point I want to snap his neck one minute, then he makes me swoon the next, I have no idea. What I do know is there is something here, a connection between us.
There has been since he took me off the boat from Cuba.
Maybe we are not on the same page.
Maybe we are.
But I need to find out because this back and forth whiplash is going to give me a complex.
And right now, I don’t need a complex to add to my ever-increasing problems.
Chapter Three
VOID
Spending the afternoon with Ivy has been fun. She’s loved hanging out with Trixie at the café, seeing how it all works. Ivy’s been watching Trixie bake the product she’s cultivating with Dash, watching all her hard work being made into the items the club’s selling. Ivy does all the hard work, and now she’s seeing the end result.
It never occurred to me she hasn’t experienced this side of what she’s been creating—I guess this is exciting for her.
I stood back, observing Ivy in her element as Trixie explained all the various recipes she uses, and how you need specific amounts of ‘green’ for each baked good. The precision of it all made Ivy’s inner nerd come out. Have to admit, I got a semi just watching her geek out the way she does. She’s fucking adorable when she becomes excited over shit.
The way her wavy chestnut hair falls perfectly over her shoulders makes me hard just from looking. Ivy’s sun-kissed skin is so gloriously perfect. Her lips are so fucking delectable, I want to kiss them every damn chance I get, not to mention that adorable button nose. But, overall, it’s the fire behind those eyes that does me in. She’s like a fucking goddess, and I want to worship at her feet.
Ivy might be small, but it’s that spirit inside of her that lets you know she wants to kick your ass in an instant if you let her down. How can a woman like her be so innocent in every way, but then talk about ‘doped-up’ donuts and ‘baked’ brownies? It messes with my head.
How is she this version in my mind where she’s fragile and breakable, yet I stood back while she bricked a man behind a wall leaving him to his death right in front of me, without so much as a blink of her eyes?
Hell, I saw her smash a brick into said guy’s face with reckless abandon.
She’s not a delicate wallflower, so why do I keep picturing her as one?
I can’t answer a question I have no answers to.
It’s a hurdle I need to jump over.
It’s about finding out if I’m willing to take that leap.
Glancing out the front window as I sip on my coffee, I exhale.
We should be getting back.
Ivy’s been gone for hours, and I’ll feel safer with her back at home in the clubhouse. Cars pass by on the road out the front. Diners sit in the café oblivious to the rear of shop operations, where the ‘baked goods’ are being held for the low lifes of Tampa. There’s an entire back section to the shop, blocked off like a vault, with a built-in exhaust system to hide the pungent odor. We have Ominous pick up the product and ship them all over the place. It’s turned into a real fucking big enterprise.
I shovel another fork full of the