Part 33 (1/2)

No cute shoes for his girl. No, she had to wear baby motorcycle boots everywhere she went, or Sebastian would just take them off.

His girl wasn't what you would call 'girly' by any means.

”You need any help?” Sebastian asked from the doorway.

I looked up to find Sebastian staring at my a.s.s that was in the air, as I looked under the bed for Blaise's boots. ”Know where her boots are?” I asked.

His eyes moved reluctantly from my swaying a.s.s to my face and smiled. ”Sure do.”

”Think they're upstairs,” he hedged.

I sighed, took Blaise to her playpen, and then headed upstairs to find the elusive shoes.

I should've known better than to fall for it, but I did, every single time.

”Sebastian, I don't-eek!” I squeaked as Sebastian's strong arms went around my hips and threw me bodily on the bed.

I bounced, laughing breathlessly as he followed me down, pinning my front to the mattress.

”What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.

”Your t-s.h.i.+rt is wet and I can see your nipples. And those jeans hug your a.s.s so well that it takes my breath away.” He said, pulling said jeans down until they were around my knees.

”The kids.” I tried.

”Sterling's here. We can spare twenty minutes.” He said convincingly.

And convince me he did.

Sebastian ”What do you think of it?” I asked my father.

The 'it' in question was the Arkansas chapter's new clubhouse.

Earlier that year, a tornado had come through and ripped the old clubhouse to shreds.

The club had gathered around and rebuilt it within weeks, and from there, we helped the community by rebuilding the surrounding buildings and town.

”Looks good. Everyone did a good job.” My father replied. ”What's that girl of yours doing?”

I squinted to see across the smoke from the fire to my wife sitting at the outdoor bar. ”Looks like she's arm wrestling Trance.”

My father's head moved from something to the left of my wife. ”Yeah, that's not the girl I was talking about.”

My eyes moved around the room until they settled on my daughter. The light of my life. My little Blaise.

Who was currently chewing a corn on the cob, sitting comfortably in Kettle's arms. ”She's teething.” I shrugged.

”Somebody's going to have to slap some sense into that boy.” He said.

I agreed. He'd not actually said it, but he blamed himself for me being hurt. Ever since, he'd been distant.

He hadn't acted like himself since then.

He needed something, but I sure didn't know what.

”Let me know if you think of something.” I said before heading into the direction of my wife.

The day that I nearly lost Baylee changed my life also.

I saw things differently now.