"I'm fine."

Skylar reached up and brushed a lock of hair back from Jessie's face. "Everything between you and Ghost okay? You work everything out?"

Jessie shrugged. "It will take some time for him to trust me again. I'm working on it."

Skylar nodded, searching her eyes. "Can I tell you something? A little advice about Ghost?"

Jessie smiled. "Sure. Apparently, I could use all the help I can get."

Skylar laughed. "Funny how we see others problems so clearly, and yet we can't see our own, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

Skylar put her hand on her arm. "Ghost is a good man."

"I know that."

She nodded. "I know you do. I just want you to remember that. With this life these men we love lead, things come up, things happen. Sometimes they want to talk about it, sometimes they don't. But I just want you to remember, if there ever comes a time where he needs to confess something to you, something he's done, just remember the man he is. He loves you. If he makes a mistake, if he pisses you off, just remember to give him the chance to explain. Hear him out before you make any snap decisions. Okay?"

Jessie frowned at her, not quite sure if there was something specific that Skylar knew about and was trying to warn her, or if she was just speaking in general about being a woman in love with a man in the life of an MC.

"I will," Jessie promised.

Skylar smiled. "Good. Now its time for me to go find my husband and take him home to bed."

Jessie grinned. "I'm sure it won't take too much convincing on your part."

Skylar waggled her brows. "I'll probably just have to look at him that certain way, if you know what I mean."

Both girls giggled.

Ghost's brothers partied until the wee hours, but eventually he and Jessie said goodbye to the last of their guests.

They walked back out onto the terrace, and Ghost collapsed into a lawn chair. When Jessie began picking up discarded plastic cups, he caught her wrist and pulled her down onto his lap.

"Ghost, the mess-"

"Leave it, brat. I'll have the prospects come clean it up tomorrow." He reached up and brushed the hair back from her face. "Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?"

She grinned. "Once or twice."

His hand moved to her hip, squeezing, his gaze on the cleavage he hadn't been able to take his eyes off all night. "Where'd you get the dress?"

She looked down, fingering the flounce. "Tink loaned it to me."

He nodded. "I need to buy you some of your own."

She shrugged. "I don't really have a place to wear them."

At that, his eyes moved around the terrace, taking in the courtyard in the background. "You do all this?"

"Tink helped."

He nodded. "You've got a talent for it."

She smiled at his compliment. "Maybe."

"You think I could make a go of this place? I mean as an event location. Put on parties like this one and shit?" He rubbed his hand up and down her thigh.

"I think you could do anything you put your mind to, Ghost." Her eyes took in the place. "I think this place could be a huge success. It has such funky originality. There's no place like it. Maybe it would never make it as a restaurant, but I think you could do all kinds of events here. Weddings, Proms, Company Parties, the list is endless."

He grinned, pleased with her enthusiasm. His hand slipped beneath the hem of her dress, his palm sliding up her thigh.

"You think you could help me with all of that? Do this with me?"

Her smile faded, a stunned expression on her face. "You...you want me to stay?"

He grinned at that. "Yeah, I want you to stay, Jess."

She kissed him, hugging him.

He stood, tossing her over his shoulder and slapped her ass. "Come on, woman. You're ol' man needs a back rub."

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

Ghost stood at the picture windows overlooking the view, sipping on a cup of coffee, his thumb moving over his cell phone. Then he put it to his ear telling Boo that he and Yammer were on party cleanup duty and to get their asses over here.

He smiled as he slid his phone in his pocket, thinking he'd make an extra tall stack of pancakes to make it up to them.

He took a sip of his coffee as he watched the sun coming up. He felt settled inside for the first time in a long fucking time. And he knew how crazy that sounded, especially when shit was hitting the fan from seemingly all sides. But as happy as he'd always been with his life in the club, something had always been missing. Now, having Jessie in his life felt like he'd finally found that missing piece.

Yeah, they still had problems to work through. The Death Heads problem had to be dealt with for one. That ball was currently in the DKs hands. They had to find that damn snitch. Once they did that, both clubs could make their move. Ghost just hoped it didn't take too fucking long. He had no control over that, so he had to take a breath and let it sort itself out.

His problem with Jessie, on the other hand, was totally in his control. There was shit he hadn't told her. And it was eating at him, especially when he was demanding that she be up front and completely honest with him. He saw the irony, the paradox. And he knew he had to set it right. He just needed to find the right time. Things had finally started to smooth out between them, and the last thing he wanted to do was rock that boat.

He took another sip of his coffee and felt Jessie's arms slide around his waist and her lips press to the bare skin between his shoulder blades. He dropped one hand to hers and squeezed. "Get back in bed, babe. I was just about to bring you some coffee."

She stole the mug out of his hand and took a big sip, moaning. "Hmmm. That's so good."

He turned, taking her in his arms. "You sleep okay?"

She grinned up at him slyly. "You didn't let me sleep."

He dipped down and kissed the tip of her nose. "Then get back in bed."

"I need to get all these rental chairs back."

"Prospects can do it."

"I told Tink I'd help her with her nails today. She's got a hot date tonight. And I don't think the prospects want to do that job for me."

He grinned. "Nope. Even I draw the line on putting that off on 'em. So, Tink's got a hot date, huh? With who?"

"I'm not telling."

"Bet I could get it out of you."

"You probably could, but do you really want to know?"

"If it's not Hammer, then probably not. I'd feel a responsibility to my brother to tell him, and then the shit would hit the fan. And I'm in too good a mood to fuck it all up trying to keep Hammer from killing some guy."

Jessie grinned at his logic. "Good. Then you'll take me?"

"To Tink's house?"

"No, I'm supposed to meet her at the clubhouse."

He huffed out a breath. "Shit, I was hoping I'd have you all to myself today."

"Take me to the clubhouse, I'll do her nails, we can return the chairs, and then you can have me all to yourself." She kissed him on the nose. "Deal?"

"Finish your coffee, and we'll work out this deal in bed."

She grinned up at him. "I can work with that."

Outside the clubhouse, Blood stood by the open back gate smoking a cigarette and shooting the shit with Yammer. Over on a nearby picnic table Hammer sat talking with Tink, who was admiring her newly painted nails. It was a pretty sunny day, unusually cool for this time of year in Alabama.

Blood's eyes moved to the end of the alley, which was actually just a dirt road that ran behind the clubhouse, cutting between two short side streets. The clubhouse took up most of the block, a vacant lot the other half. A junkyard butted up to the alley on the other side.

A dark panel van was pulling into the alley.

"You get much traffic comin' down this alley," Blood asked as he tossed his cigarette.

Yammer followed his eyes to the van. "Not much. Just the club."

A moment later they were both diving to the ground as the side door of the van slid open and several assault rifles opened fire on the clubhouse.

As Blood rolled and pulled his Glock out, he saw Hammer flip the picnic table over to its side, shoving Tink behind it. Then Hammer was up over the top of it, returning fire. Blood scrambled to the fence and peeked around the open gate. He was able to fire off a couple of rounds into the van.

Then his heart dropped as he saw the end of what looked like a goddamn grenade launcher poke out the open door. It fired straight into one of the clubhouse windows.

Inside the clubhouse, Ghost, Jessie and Griz were at the bar laughing with Boo a moment before they heard the gunfire. Bullet holes began piercing the backside of the clubhouse that faced the alley.

Ghost grabbed the back of Jessie's shirt and yanked her off her barstool, shoving her to the ground and covering her with his body. Then he, Jessie, and Griz all scrambled around behind the bar.

They all sat with their backs to it.

Boo hunched over and ran to a cabinet. A moment later he was tossing shotguns to both Griz and Ghost.

"That's some high-powered rounds, bro. They're gonna make Swiss cheese of this place," Ghost observed.

"Let's flip the pool table on its side. The slate will give us some protection," Griz suggested.

"That thing's gotta weigh over eight hundred pounds."

"Boo, get over here," Griz yelled.

The three men were able to flip it to its side. It crashed to the floor with a boom that shook the whole building, and Ghost was sure, cracked the foundation.

They all got down behind it.

Ghost pointed to the window on the left and pulled his 9mm and handed it to Jessie. "Keep watch on the side yard, can you do that?"

She nodded, taking the gun.

"Anything moves, shoot the shit out of it."

"Got it."

"Stay with her," he ordered Boo.

"You got it."

Ghost grabbed Jessie by the back of the neck, pulled her close and kissed her forehead. Then he was scrambling toward the back door with Griz.

Ghost got in position with his back to the wall under one of the windows, and Griz under the other. The walls were being punctured by rapid fire in a zigzag pattern over their heads. He saw Jessie pop her head up and look out her window.

"Stay the fuck down, Jess," he yelled. She dropped back down. He looked over at Griz as he busted the pump on the 12-gauge, slamming it down and up with a ratcheting sound. "You ready?"

Griz nodded, and they both rose up to shoot.

The blast was deafening when Ghost pulled the trigger, the recoil slamming into his shoulder. He got a look at the van where the fire was coming from as he and Griz both dropped back down.

"Death Heads?" Ghost asked.

"Gotta be," Griz replied. "Guess they've moved on from the capture plan to the kill plan."

"Jesus Christ."