what I was thinking?"
"That you smell that gas leak now too?" she asked, eyes dancing.
"Well, there's that," I agreed, but we both knew I was joking. "But I was thinking that maybe that me-time you were talking about could be us-time."
"So long as us-time involves a lot of healthy exercise," she said, nodding. "I mean, cardiovascular health is very important. We can't slack on that. Not even if our—how did Gus put it—uglies get dangly," she said, giggling at the phrasing.
"I will make sure you get your workouts. Multiple ones a day. Your health is very important to me," I agreed, letting my hands glide down to sink into her ass for just a second.
"So you see a future here?" she asked, sounding hesitant and hopeful at the same time. I knew because I was feeling the same way.
"I see a future here," I agreed.
I was so lost in her, in us, in the potential for the future that I missed my phone ringing in the other room.
FIFTEEN
Reign
Ultimately, it seemed like trying to force the women to stay up at Hailstorm any longer would turn into a bigger war than the one we had all just fought.
And with Summer as their fearless leader, I knew me and my men didn't stand a fucking chance against them.
They wanted to come home.
And we couldn't find any immediate threats to use to make them stay.
That said, they had to come back to the clubhouse, or they could go home, but only with guards from Hailstorm. Which was stretching Lo's—and let's face it, these days, Chris's—crew thin, but I was calling in the favor this time. Just to be sure.
Because the fact of the matter was, we still had no fucking idea what was going on.
Someone had tortured and killed Miguel Alvear and dumped him in front of our clubhouse.
Was it a message?
A warning?
Or was it a peace offering of some sort?
We had no fucking idea.
And neither did the police, it seemed.
So until we knew for sure there was another threat that warranted the women and kids staying at Hailstorm, I decided it was alright to let them come home for a bit, see their men, see their fathers. It was easy enough to ship them all back if we needed to.
"Sit your stubborn ass down," Summer's voice snapped, coming back in the room from the kitchen.
Okay.
Well, maybe some of them would be easier to ship back than others.
My woman was on a mission. And that was to nurse me back to health. No matter how much I tried to fight it.
To be honest, though, I wasn't trying that hard.
My shoulder was fucking throbbing. My ribs were screaming. Every inch of me was hurting in one way or another. And I hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep.
Planning and carrying out a mission like we had the night before was no easy task. To get out as unscathed as we had was a miracle.
Sure, there were some grazes. Renny had lost a tooth. Sugar took a knife to the upper arm.
But it was all—thankfully—superficial shit.
That said, I was feeling it.
The stringing up, the beatings, the stress, the uncertainty, the long nights planning, the worry as we sprang into action, the way I had needed to push my body to the limits to carry that night out.
So if my woman wanted to play nursemaid, I wasn't fucking objecting to it.
"I was just—"
"You were just sitting your stubborn ass back down," Summer finished for me, coming toward me with a tray, something steaming in a bowl. "I know you aren't sick, but soup fixes everything," she told me, eyes warm as she placed the tray on my lap, moving to sit next to me against the pillows.
"How's Fallon?"
"Bragging about his gunshot wound."
I snorted at that. "It was a graze."
"I think he is planning on going to get into a bar fight just to have more scars to brag about. That one," she said, shaking her head.
"Reminds you of someone?" I asked, smirking.
"I didn't know you when you were that young and that reckless, but, yeah, there is a lot of you in him."
"I hope so," I agreed, nodding.
"You're going to pass over Cash and Wolf, aren't you?" she asked, point-blank.
We'd always discussed the club, but Summer had always been more passive in the conversation, not demanding a lot of details, knowing it was always safer for her not to be privy to them.
"Cash and Wolf don't want it. They're not exactly much younger than me," I reminded her.