him from the reservation, Paco stood in the driveway of his house. The sunshine, directly above him, shined down on his shoulders, taking the chill out of the late September day.
The door shut behind him, and Josie's hurried footsteps pattered over the concrete. "You should wait inside the house."
"It feels good out here." He reached for her hand and tugged her closer.
She leaned against him before catching herself, and he pulled her back to his body. The doctor had given him the all-clear. Every wound had healed. All that remained were the hundred or so scars marking his skin. The worst of them on his face.
He rubbed his jaw, smoothing his beard. It'd taken squeezing the doctor's neck to stop him from cutting his whiskers. And despite the risk of infection by leaving his facial hair, he'd healed with the help of the stitches. Though he looked like hell when he caught a reflection of himself in the mirror.
She stepped in front of him, rising to her toes. "Your beard is grayer in the light."
"Does it turn you on?" He kissed her upturned lips.
"Everything about you does." She dropped to the heels of her feet. "I don't want to take advantage of how nice Banks has been to give me the time off to make sure you take it easy and heal, but I think I should stay home another week. Just until you can get around better."
"The leg isn't going to get better."
"But it'll get stronger. Dr. Graham thought with some exercise, the limp would hardly be noticeable." She rubbed his sides. "You've only been able to breathe deeply the last couple of days. I don't want you overdoing and having a setback."
"Sweetheart." He inhaled deeply. "Enough."
"But—"
"Enough."
She nodded. He pulled her tight to his front, and she wrapped her arms around him. Once Tarkio got him to the clubhouse after a ride he couldn't remember, the doctor Tarkio had on call and paid under the table had saved his life. He went through a blood transfusion—thanks to Priest, who was a match—and had the bullet in his leg removed.
He'd dealt with three broken ribs. A mangled thigh muscle that the doc half-ass stitched together, and his face.
There were times he'd catch Josie looking at him—which hurt her more than him. He could see the conflict she went through, believing the scars were caused by her past.
He was too old to give a damn about his appearance. Maybe after so many years, they were his punishment for the crimes he'd done in his life. Maybe they were due to him for payment on failing his sister.
Maybe they were there to scare Josie away, but he was too selfish of a son of bitch to let her go.
As soon as he had gained consciousness, he'd let her know in no uncertain terms that as his woman, she would need to move in with him.
Chrischris quickly offered to take over Josie's rent and move her things over to Paco's house, giving her no time to come up with a good reason why she shouldn't live with him.
A low rumble grabbed his attention. Adrenaline fed his soul. Besides getting his nut off last night for the first time in too long, nothing had energized him as much as hearing his Harley in the band of motorcycles approaching the house.
Josie stiffened in his arms. "I didn't know they were coming."
"They're bringing my bike home." He looked down the road to the corner, waiting for the first sight of his motorcycle club brothers.
Priest refused to let him have the Harley until he was healed. Now that he was on his feet, nothing was going to stop him from straddling the beast and feeling it purr underneath him.
Josie turned in his arms. He held her back against his front and embraced her, keeping her close.
The riders rounded the corner. Sweeping his gaze over the group as they kept coming, at least a hundred members rode together.
Out of commission for longer than he liked, but better than a prison sentence, he would need to use the upcoming week to get caught up in what was happening with club business and see if Cusclan Motorcycle Club remained a threat and how the crops were doing in California.
Tarkio's troubles were never far from his thoughts. He was ready to jump back in and do his job.
Priest led the bikers, pulling up into the driveway on Paco's Harley. He circled and backed the bike up to the garage door while