Keeping Her - Jordan Marie Page 0,65
with them. Jasmine is combing her fingers through Daisy’s hair. She kisses the top of her head and speaks softly to her in a way that I’ve only seen women have the ability to do. I tear my gaze away from my girls to look at Jasmine’s father.
“I’m not giving her up,” I respond, laying my cards on the table. I figure I might as well cut to the chase. I get why he’s not happy his daughter is seeing me, I do. It doesn’t matter. The simple truth is that I don’t give a fuck.
“You have to know, son, I know all about your club. You and I live similar lifestyles and you have a daughter. Can you tell me that you would want your daughter to sign up with a man like you?”
A man like me. If a man in my world is made of grit and determination then I guess that would be me. That grit right now is rubbing my insides raw.
“My first answer would be no,” I tell him honestly.
“Then you can see where I’m coming from.”
“I can, but I also know how I feel about Jasmine and I know that I will bust my ass to keep that light that shines in her eyes.”
“Listen, Grunt,” he says, automatically using the name that shows on my cut—as he has since I walked inside. Which is how it should be, but for some reason it annoys the fuck out of me that he’s trying to act like what he’s saying should be easy for me to understand.
“I also know that I will always protect Jasmine with my fucking life. If my Daisy found a man willing to do that and that man wasn’t a good man, but he was willing to be good enough to make her happy, then I’d stand back.”
Dancer just looks at me, not speaking.
“And that’s what I’m asking you to do here. Stand the fuck back.”
“If I refuse?” Dancer asks, his gaze appraising me.
I let out an annoyed breath. This is going to be hard all the way through. It’s okay, I expected that, but it doesn’t mean I like it.
“It won’t mean shit to me. I’m not giving her up. I’ve come here as a man, not my club, and I came here because I won’t let Jasmine travel unless I have her back. If we’re going to be enemies, then we’ll make arrangements when she wants to visit you. But, Dancer, you need to hear me when I tell you that I’m not letting her go. Not for you, not for any fucking-body. She’s mine and I’m keeping her.”
“Just because you want to keep a woman doesn’t make them yours,” he rumbles, and I immediately shake my head no.
“She’s mine because she wanted that almost as much as I did. I don’t fucking know why, but it’s a gift and regardless what you think of me, I’m not a stupid man. That means, I’m not letting her go.”
“You decide she was yours before or after you found out she was Savage MC property motherfucker?” My gaze jerks over to the man that walks up the steps. Dragon. I’ve seen him before, from a distance. I doubt he took much notice of me, most of his dealings were with Ford. He’s an intimidating asshole; lucky for me, I’ve never been one to give in to intimidation. I’ve been told I give as good as I get and I’m rather proud of that. So, in response, I broaden my stance, and cross my arms at my chest and give my best fucking grunt, because his damn words aren’t worthy of a response.
My gaze turns back to look for Jasmine. She’s still on the floor, Daisy in her arms. She’s laughing up at her friend Gabby who is standing there beside Nicole—who I met yesterday, and another woman with red hair that I don’t know. It’s none of them that I focus on, it’s the guy standing close to Gabby. Every so often Gabby will laugh and the guy’s eyes go directly to her. They’re standing apart as if they’re not together, but clearly he wishes he was.
Motherfucker.
“You ignoring me, asshole?” Dragon barks.
I turn my gaze to him. “Your question didn’t deserve an answer. Besides I already answered it yesterday. I didn’t know who Jasmine’s family was until two days ago. Trust me, I wish to fuck she had told me sooner.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
This question comes from Dancer, so I