phase he’s going through and yet he needs to face the consequences. It’s the main reason we took him in as a prospect; to give him a place with the correct guidance. He needs a chance to face his new lifestyle. Ozzy and Caz stroll out of the room along with him.
A hint of raspberry teases my nose along with an underlying scent of an enticing woman. My gaze goes to the open window where I catch a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair passing by. I’m on my feet with my next breath but Ash is standing in front of me, stopping my quick exit in an attempt to see if I can find the woman who just strolled by the building.
“Are you going to help me take the photographs?” he questions.
“In a minute,” I tell him and I’m about to head for the door–which is a straight connection with the bar–but loud voices catch our attention.
“Prez, you better get in here,” Spencer–who is handling the bar today–says.
I hear the voice of a woman rambling about someone she’s looking for, when the sweet undertone of raspberries starts to tease my nose again.
Stomping into the bar with Ash close behind me, we come to a stop when we notice a woman standing in the middle of the bar. Ozzy, Caz, and Bevin are sitting around a table in the corner. At this time there aren’t any people from town in the bar, only a handful of members of our MC.
The scent of raspberries is strong. This petite woman with curvy hips and strawberry blonde hair is the source of it. I take a deep breath and let my nose filter the different elements entering my body.
There’s no hint of fear coming from her. And it’s damn weird because I can’t sense if she’s human or not. It’s as if she’s wrapped in a bubble. Blue eyes, bright as my own, are staring right at me.
They close for a moment when she inhales deep before they narrow and slide down to the patches on my leather cut. Dismissing me, she shifts her gaze to the table where Ozzy, Caz, and Bevin are seated.
“You,” she snaps. “Outside.”
Everyone stays seated and before I can question what the hell this is about, her eyes clash with mine again.
“I need for you to order one of your guys to step outside. I have some issues with him I want to talk through,” she demands.
Laughter flows through the room but there isn’t even a hint of a smile on my face. My men might think it’s funny for a woman to stalk in here and make demands–not realizing she’s surrounded by part of a pack of werewolves–but the joke is on them.
This isn’t a mere woman and if they would look past her beauty, they would take notice. Her scent is blocked and why should they take notice? It’s a bar where women sometimes come in to rant about their men coming here to cheat on their wives. Loads of women come here to seek some fun for the night.
But I get the feeling this isn’t about infidelity or a chick coming to drag her man home for missing out on dinner or looking for a one-night stand.
“State the name and issues you have with him,” I demand in a flat tone.
She shrugs, her eyes going back to the table where Ozzy, Caz, and Bevin are seated as she says, “I don’t have a name, but the one with the bald head needs to face consequences for his actions.”
The only one with a bald head seated at the table she’s looking at is Bevin. Needless to say, the consequences for his actions she mentioned is the shit he just spilled when we were in a meeting in the other room. She’s here about him kicking someone’s ass who looked like Allen.
“I’m afraid it’s club business you might be talking about.” I give her a smirk and try to see how she will react to this little piece of information.
Clearly it tells her I’m aware of what he did and the fact he’s not responsible on his own; he has a whole MC at his back. To my surprise the woman throws her shoulders back and is now fully focused on me.
“Great. Prez, a word. Outside,” she snaps, turns on her heel, and stalks in the direction of the door but leans against it to wait for me.
“What the fuck?” Ash grumbles underneath his breath. “Is the chick