Three Kings, One Night (Lost Kings MC #2.5) (5 page)

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Authors: Autumn Jones Lake

Tags: #Christmas Eve, #New Adult, #MC Romance, #bad boy, #biker romance, #holiday romance

BOOK: Three Kings, One Night (Lost Kings MC #2.5)
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“Yeah, no problem. You want me to run out and grab stuff? Not much is gonna be open, you’ll have to go all the way down into Empire.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

 

My first stop is Crystal Ball. I find Rock sitting at the bar watching the door, looking miserable as fuck.

“What up, prez?”

He gives me a weary smile. CB is depressing as hell tonight. At least to me it is. But the girls have decorated the fuck out of the place and that’s what I’m after.

I slide onto the stool next to him and signal Willow to bring me a bottle of water.

Rock, as always, is no bullshit. “I know you didn’t come here for a lap dance, so what do you want?”

Someone’s extra cranky tonight. “Trin’s not feeling well. Ran out to get a few things for her. Just thought I’d see if you needed any help here.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “She okay?”

“Yeah. Teller’s sittin’ with her. Everything all right here?”

He shrugs. “Girls say they’re makin’ bank. No one’s started any trouble. So, I guess.”

“You coulda made one of the other guys deal with this.”

He waves his hand in the air, dismissing my suggestion. “Nah. The guys that got families to go home to should do that. I’m fine.”

It’s suicide to ask my next question, but I do it anyway. I’m kinda stupid that way. “You talk to Hope yet?”

Rock glares at me.

“First holiday without her husband. Probably rough on her.”

More glaring.

“How long you gonna wait?”

His jaw twitches. “Couple more months.”

I nod. Really, I just want him to get this bitch out of his system. I hate seeing my best friend so twisted over some civilian woman who’ll probably make his life miserable.

Giving him a hearty slap on the back, I slide off my stool and head toward his office.

Bingo. All the stores might be closed now, but I can do my shopping right here.

The girls weren’t very subtle. There’s mistletoe up over Rock’s door.
And
strung up along the hallway outside his office.

A big, blinking neon sign would have been less obvious.

I don’t think Rock will mind if I borrow the decorations. In fact, I think he’ll be relieved.

Someone’s fuck-me heels clack against the concrete floor. Fuck, I wanted to get in and out of here without any of the girls annoyin’ me. “Hey, Wrath. What ya think you’re doin’?” Lexi asks.

What I
think
is that my MC owns this club and she should watch her mouth. Since it’s Christmas Eve and all, I answer, “Hey Lex. Borrowing some mistletoe.”

She pushes her lips into one of those duck pouts that transforms her from pretty to ugly quick. “We put it up for Rock.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think he appreciates it this year.”

“Do you know what’s going on with him? He’s barely ever here any more.”

I know exactly what’s crawled under his skin, but it’s none of her business. “No, just leave him alone.”

“Okay. So, what are
you
doing tonight?”

Of course, one dick’s as good as another to her. Doesn't that just break my heart.

I glance over at Lexi. The invitation in her voice was clear enough. But in case I missed it, she’s standing there in a “let’s fuck” pose that would normally have me bending her over Rock’s desk by now. No doubt she’s a sexy girl, but I got other things on my mind tonight.

“Family stuff,” I answer, hoping she’ll get lost.

“I brought those decorations in, you know.” Her tone makes it clear what she’s after. These fuckin’ dancers are all the same.

Flipping out my wallet, I hand her two twenties. “Will that cover it?”

She stuffs the bills into the garter around her thigh and smiles at me. “Sure, thanks.”

“Later, Lexi.”

I salute Rock on my way out the door.

 

My next stop is the pharmacy. Gotta love these big-box ones that are open twenty-four hours, three-sixty-five. The pharmacist behind the counter doesn’t look old enough to shave yet, but he gives me a list of stuff that he thinks should make Trin feel better based on the info I give him.

Teller’s still awake when I get back to the clubhouse.

“She wake up?” I whisper as I get closer.

“No. Been moaning and thrashing around a lot though.”

I’m torn. I want to wake her and get some fluids in her—no, not that kind—but I also want her to rest.

“You can go.”

Teller cocks his head at me, but gets up and leaves us alone.

 

***

In my barfy haze, I’m aware of someone getting up and leaving the room. Then the couch dips and by the sigh, I know it’s Wrath.

My mouth is so dry I can barely talk. “Did you go somewhere?” I croak out the words, my throat so raw it hurts to talk.

“Did we wake you up?” he asks.

“No.”

“How do you feel?”

“Gross.”

He chuckles softly, then sits up. The rustling of a plastic bag, fizz of a bottle opening, paper ripping. None of the sounds are compelling enough for me to open my eyes.

“Think you can drink something for me?” Wrath asks.

At his request, I sit up and instantly regret it. Pain slices through my head, and I fall back with a moan.

“You’re getting dehydrated. Here, drink some of this.”

He nudges a bottle in my hand. Even stuck a straw in it for me. I sip at the ginger ale thinking nothing has ever tasted so good.

“Want some crackers?”

“Ugh. One thing at a time.”

He takes the soda from my hand and sets it on the table.

“You move my tree?” I ask after a minute.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

I poke at him with my toes and he grabs my feet, settling them in his lap, warming them with his big hands.

“You don’t have to stay down here with me.”

He doesn’t answer right away and I start dozing off. “You had me worried.”

“Sorry. I hope you don’t end up catching whatever it is.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“You should be, I feel like I got hit by a bus.”

“Try to rest now, babe.”

I turn over and manage to fall asleep.

I wake to sunlight pouring in the living room. Wrath’s sprawled out on the other couch sound asleep. Everything aches, but at least my stomach seems calmer. Probably ‘cause there’s nothing left in it. My head’s pounding, so I swipe the half empty bottle of ginger ale off the table and suck some of it down.

Now that the worst is over, I need to crawl into my own bed. I feel bad leaving Wrath out here alone, after he took such good care of me, but I think he’ll understand. I drape one of the blankets over him and he doesn’t stir. It blows my mind that he was up all night taking care of me. I want to lean over and kiss his cheek, but I’m afraid of waking him. At least that’s what I tell myself.

Even sick, I have to stop and admire him. In sleep, he looks almost angelic. You’d never guess what a scary jerk he can be when he’s awake. It’s nice to see this side of him again.

It’s been awhile.

 

***

Naturally, Trinity is gone when I wake up.

I see she took the bag of stuff I brought her, though, so that’s good.

Still, I’d like to know if she’s okay.

As I wander down the hall, I wonder if she noticed the mistletoe I left for her.

Probably not.

I hesitate before knocking, because I shouldn’t be waking her up. Then I hear her shower running.

Now I’m thinking about her naked.

Great.

When the shower turns off, I finally knock.

She answers in flannel pajamas and a towel on her head.

Her skin is still sickly pale, and she’s got deep circles under her eyes. She’s still so stinkin’ cute.

“You okay?”

“Meh. I don’t feel like puking any more. But I still feel like shit. Thanks for the stuff you got for me, I know it was probably a pain in the ass to find someplace open…”

“Trin, it’s no big deal.”

“I’ll get breakfast—”

“No you won’t. You’re going to rest. Your only options today are couch or your bedroom.” My bedroom would also be a fine choice, but I leave it out. “I catch you in the kitchen, I’m gonna spank your ass.”

Her eyes widen, shocked. I’m a little shocked myself. Because I actually mean it.

“Take a sick day, Trin. We’ll survive.”

She nods.

I point to the mistletoe hanging in her doorway. “Look up.”

A soft giggle that gets me thinking all sorts of inappropriate things comes out of her.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

I hate what she’s implying and it’s on the tip of my tongue to respond with something nasty. But I really don’t want to fight with Trinity today.

Instead, I lean over and kiss her forehead.

“Merry Christmas. Now get some rest.”

 

 

 

 

 

I shouldn’t be going to visit Lilly.

Not tonight.

Not on Christmas Eve.

I know she comes from a big, tight-knit Russian-Italian family, so she’s probably not even home.

It’s fuckin’ stupid for me to drive all the way up to see her. Especially if I just want to get laid.

I can do that back at the clubhouse.

Until half an hour ago I’d been at my own awkward family dinner. My blood family, not the MC. Tricky business navigating the minefield of family relations around the holidays. Eventually people drank too much and started listing all the ways you’ve disappointed them with the way you’re living your life. I’d managed to stay until a physical unease built up so strong, it pushed me out the door.

Way too fucking cold to ride my bike, I’m trapped in my black truck, racing up the Northway.

To see a girl who may not want to see me. Who fuck, may not even be home. Or even worse, if she is home, may have some other guy over.

I do
not
like that idea.

At all.

I blame Rock for my predicament. My MC president and one of my best friends. I’d never have met Lilly if he wasn’t so damn obsessed with Lilly’s friend—his former lawyer—Hope. Sweet as they come, Hope is the last woman you’d expect to find dating an MC prez. Sometimes it shocks me she’s managed to stay friends with Lilly for so long. All class and beauty on the outside, with the foulest mouth and an appetite for sex to match any man, Lilly keeps me on my toes.

She doesn’t care if I fuck around with other chicks, because she’s fucking other guys.

First time this scenario has ever annoyed me.  

Tonight I didn’t bother calling first. Last time I went that route, she told me she was busy. I’m not giving her an out tonight.

I even have a present with me.

No, not my dick. That comes later.

Her driveway is dark, but that’s not unusual. Christ, I feel like a stalky dickwad. Her porch light is on, but her little Lexus sedan is nowhere to be seen.

Fuck.

I knew it was a risk coming all the way up here.

I’m still douching around in her driveway, trying to decide if I should wait or head back down to Empire, when headlights come bouncing down the driveway. I swear my dick pulses to life at the sight.

 

***

 

I managed to bite back the tears until I got in my car. Over the years I’ve learned nothing can pierce your heart more than family. At thirty-three, it is scandalous that I’m not married and carting a bunch of kids around with me. Never mind that I paid for college and graduate school all by myself. That I bought my own house before I turned thirty with my own money. That I haven’t asked my parents for a dime since I left home at eighteen.

If it wasn’t for my older brother, Alex, playing mediator, I wouldn’t have lasted through my mother’s mushroom soup with zaprashka—the first of twelve miserable courses I sat through tonight. Even though my mother bent her traditions a long time ago, and now celebrates Christmas Eve on the 24th of December instead of January 7th, the meal she makes has not changed.

How badly I wanted to take comfort in the familiar smells and tastes of my childhood. But once my mother got busy picking out my flaws and failures, it was only a matter of time before my father, aunts, and cousins joined the fun.

Lilly, when you gonna find a man to take care of you?

I can take care of myself, Babbo.

Nonsense, you’re getting too old to attract a man.

Zia Bruna, I attract plenty of men.

That one had not gone over well. I’m pretty sure my family still thinks I’m a virgin.

I hate to break it to them, but that ship sailed a long time ago.

Why hadn’t I moved farther away?

I could call my best friend, Sophie. Before her parents divorced, their strict Greek expectations of her rivaled my own family’s. But she’s off in New Hampshire spending the holiday with her rock star boyfriend who has some downtime until after New Year’s.

After a quick stop at Stewart’s, I have a quart of my favorite eggnog in my possession. When I get home, I’m going to introduce the eggnog to the bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream I have stashed in my fridge. Then I’m going to crawl into bed and forget that I have to get up and do this again tomorrow.

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