“A party?” Billie asked as she and Travis weaved back through the hordes of people. “What for? My birthday isn’t until February.”
“Good to know.” He squeezed her hand as they slipped out onto Bourbon Street. “But this party isn’t about how many candles you have on your cake; it’s about telling the club that you’re mine.”
The way he said mine raised the hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck. “Did you,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out, “mean all that about me and you? Or was it just…”
“I meant it,” he said almost aggressively, pausing on the sidewalk between The Priory and her gallery and taking both her hands as he looked right into her eyes. “I want you, Billie. No way I can stay away from you. Right from the start you snuck under my defenses and made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. Things I didn’t think I was capable of feeling.”
Although part of her was singing hallelujahs at this news, she felt she needed to say her bit. “It would have been nice if you’d given me an inkling of this before you told your friends.” She’d been walked over before and she wasn’t about to enter into a relationship with a control freak ever again. No matter if the sex did blow her mind. Every. Single. Time.
He blinked, as if taken aback. “Are you saying you don’t have the same feelings for me?”
“No,” she said quickly, rushing to assure him that that wasn’t the issue at all. After the week they’d shared, how could he even think that? “Hell, Travis, I’m pretty certain I’m falling in love with you and have been since the moment you kissed me without asking.”
His lips curled upward and he had the good sense to look sheepish. “Well then…”
“But,” she said forcefully, “I’m not sure about the whole ‘property’ thing. It sounds so crass and backwards. As if you picked me up for a bargain at your local Walmart.”
He chuckled and pulled her closer against him. Her insides glowed as he dropped her hands but snuck his up around her back, finding the bare flesh between her sweatshirt and jeans. Who was she kidding? She was a goner. Her body well and truly signed up to this property thing, even if her brain was still clinging onto a few reservations.
“You’re way too classy for Walmart. And I’m way too choosy. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone long term until I met you. For a decade I haven’t let myself trust or want anyone. But you’ve taught me there is good in the world, alongside the crap, and I want some of that.”
The battle with her hormones was lost long ago; now she was losing the battle with her tears. He may not have declared undying love, but she could read between the lines. This confession was huge for someone like Travis.
He continued. “I know if you haven’t been around MC clubs for long, the words property or old lady might seem disrespectful, but I assure you they are anything but.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead before continuing, explaining it to her a lot like Sophie had. But coming from him it sounded appealing. Sexy, even. Then finally, “If you agree to be my old lady, you’ll make me the happiest guy in the world and I promise you, our relationship will be one of mutual respect, encouragement, fun and lots and lots of great sex.”
He stared down expectantly at her and she realized he was waiting for an answer. How could it be anything but “Yes!”
The biggest smile she’d ever seen lit his face, and then he leaned over and closed the already tiny gap between them. His hands were in her hair, his mouth claiming her as his own and she knew that despite appearances to the contrary, despite the biker club lingo, Travis would never compromise her in the way Saxon had.
And that was the last time she ever wanted to think about her ex-husband again.
Finally, he pulled back, but she was glad he didn’t let her go, because her head was spinning from the events of the last few hours and his unexpected confession. And there were so many more questions taking up her headspace. “What about your work? What about Tallahassee? Are you really moving back to the Quarter?”
He nodded. “Let’s go inside and discuss this somewhere more comfortable.” The wicked gleam in his eye told her they’d both be horizontal during any conversation, but she didn’t have a problem with that at all.
Later in bed, with Baxter asleep on the floor beside them, Travis’s fingers trawled lazily through her hair and over the bare skin of her neck as he explained how he could work from anywhere.
“Tallahassee was never really home,” he confessed, “although I tried to fool myself that it was. I don’t have any real friends there and it was never in my blood, not like the French Quarter, not like the Deacons, not like you.”
Billie bit her lip, then asked, “The Deacons were an outlaw club, right? Does that mean I should be worried about what you might be getting involved with?”
He shook his head. “Priest wanted us to go clean years ago, but he got conned into one last job. We torched a building and a guy died.”
She was quiet as he continued. She knew his past, had accepted him for what he was.
“None of us have ever been clear on exactly what happened and why Priest sent us away, but it was the brotherhood we missed and that’s what we want to recreate. I’m not looking for a life of crime and I’ll keep working for myself.”
“Okay. Good.” Because surely she needed to have some scruples. “So what will you do about the Ministry?”
Travis sighed. “I honestly don’t know because we’re not at full strength, but I don’t want you to worry about that. I’m not going to let any harm come to you, I promise.”
It wasn’t herself she was worried about. Not wanting to think about that, Billie turned her attentions back to Travis’s body. Tracing her fingers along the lines of his tattoos was rapidly becoming one of her favorite pastimes. For someone who had never given much thought to tattoos in the past, they intrigued her now. Should she get one done?
She was about to put this question to Travis, but she bit her tongue at the last moment. Maybe she’d surprise him. Maybe she’d get it in someplace only he would see. She grinned, imagining the look on his face when she unveiled it. And then she chuckled as she thought about the look on her family’s face if they ever saw it.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
She shook her head and kissed him again.
Chapter 14
After their first official “church” meeting since the Deacons had returned, Travis followed a still reluctant Micah out of The Priory. But whereas Micah, or Prince as he was known to the club, continued on down Bourbon to whatever had been keeping him busy these last few weeks, Travis turned into the gallery and glanced around at the mix of sculptures and paintings. Funny how you could change your opinion of a place in a matter of days. Billie’s enthusiasm for the art she sold had rubbed off on him, and seeing New Orleans again through her eyes had helped him rekindle a love affair with the city he’d thought long gone. He was in such a good mood that even Rolley’s presence in the gallery didn’t annoy him.
The scruffy hippie glared at him but Travis ignored it, instead heading inside to go find Billie. Yet as he did a walk through the rooms, calling both Billie and Baxter, he found no sign of either of them, so he dug his cellphone out of his back pocket and dialed Billie’s number. Within a few seconds her ring tone sounded from somewhere in her bedroom.