Joker (Hell's Ankhor #8) - Aiden Bates Page 0,58

his eyes were a little glassy, mouth open as I worked carefully. When I was finished, and the straight razor was put away, he kissed me hard and hungry, then fucked me slow as I mouthed at the soft, smooth skin of his jawline.

Three weeks passed like that. Spending a few hours in his workshop in the afternoons, engrossed in the late stages of my sign, and then Brennan and I would have dinner, maybe watch a movie, and make out on the couch like teenagers before we fell into his bed. It was so easy being with him, so easy to fall into a comfortable rhythm together.

And I was getting used to waking up in his bed with his arms around me. I loved waking up and brushing his tousled red hair off his forehead, as the morning sunlight fell in stripes across his handsome face and caught on his hot little brow piercing.

And before I even realized it was happening, by the end of the month, I was done with the sign. It was all carved, sanded, and stained. There was only one more step to go.

I held my beer a little closer to my chest as I stood on the porch, looking out at the crowd of people gathered in the backyard of the clubhouse. Nerves chewed at me, tight in my chest, because today… today I was finally revealing my sign to the club. And not just the sign.

Brennan stepped out of the living room and onto the back porch. He wound his arm around my waist and pulled me snug against his side. “How are you feeling?” he asked, low and private.

Usually I would revel in the chance to be the center of attention. To finally have my club acknowledge me and focus on me for something positive. But today I found that I didn’t crave it as much as I had in the past. Spending time with Brennan, I felt… fulfilled. Seen, in a way that I’d been missing for a long time. I didn’t need to make a fool of myself in front of the club just to feel like I existed, because Brennan made me feel like I was important every time I saw him. Just for being me.

Me being with Brennan wasn’t exactly secret, but I wasn’t exactly open about it, either. There’d been a few interested questions from my club brothers, especially after Raven had walked in on us making out, but I’d blown them off easily. I didn’t know how to talk about it, really. Didn’t know how to explain what I had with Brennan, and how it filled an emptiness inside me that the club never quite had. Or… more like, I hadn’t known how to start to fill it, until Brennan had showed me.

And now, I wanted to show my brothers in the club that something had changed in me. That there was more to me than the jabs and the caginess. It’d always been there, but I’d always figured… I’d thought no one would ever want that part of me. But Brennan made me think that maybe I could be accepted by my club as myself, not just as the hard drinker and the horndog and the clown.

But I was definitely due for some razzing about my relationship, that much I knew, especially after I’d given my brothers-in-arms so much hell when they’d coupled up. And now here I was, cheeks hot on the back porch with Brennan’s lips close to my ear.

“Nervous,” I admitted. “What if they don’t like it?”

I glanced over at the sign. It was leaning up against the porch railing, covered in an old quilt, waiting to be revealed. Brennan squeezed me a little together, scratching his fingers along my ribs fondly.

“I don’t think that’s a possibility,” he said, “but if they don’t, you’ll just get to make another one.”

I cringed at the thought, but honestly, he was right. What was the worst thing that could happen? They’d tease me, and then I’d go back to the drawing board with a better design. Whatever happened, it’d be fine. I had Brennan at my side, and the club might give me shit, but it’s not like they’d boot me out.

Some of the nerves settled a little.

“Come on,” Brennan said. “Let’s go inside, Dante’s cooking.”

Brennan took my hand and tugged me back into the common room. It was a little bit chaotic, in the midst of renovations, but the kitchen was mostly complete, as