The door I came to was actually a bedroom, not a bathroom, and I prayed it wouldn't be Sebastian's. There was no way I could handle that. Sadly, my luck was never good.

Chapter 5.

I can tell by the way you park your car that I hate you.

-Female logic Sebastian "Shannon, do you think you can get the f.u.c.k off me? It's too hot out here for you to be hanging on me. Go find somebody else to sit on, and give me back my G.o.dd.a.m.ned hat." I gritted through clenched teeth.

I'd been dodging the woman's grabby hands all f.u.c.king afternoon, and if I had to deal with it much longer, I'd be saying something I'd regret. It didn't matter if the girl was a brother's little sister. I'd kick her a.s.s out just as I'd do to anyone that annoyed me.

I dealt with enough s.h.i.t on a daily basis in between the bulls.h.i.t drama at work and the club to have to deal with other people's s.h.i.t in my own home.

"Sebastian!" Shannon whined as I took my hat back from the little hoochie and replaced it back on my head.

"Hey, boy. You got a girl inside that cut her hand. Looks pretty bad. Maybe you should go take a look." My father, the president of The Dixie Wardens MC, said as he took the seat beside me.

I sighed. I was tired. "What'd she look like and where's she at?"

His father smiled and looked out over the lake. "Sent her to your room. Cute little thing. Short shorts. Tight top. She's got blonde straight hair all the way down to mid back. Muscular."

My heart sped as I listened to my father explain exactly the way Baylee looked to me. I'd hoped she would come, but wasn't sure if she'd be able to make it. Nor was I sure if she'd even want to be around me anymore. Her brother had to have said something to her regarding me. h.e.l.l, I would have.

"Thanks, pops." I said as I strode toward the house.

I pa.s.sed quite a few people wanting to chat, but I only gave them cursory nods as I walked in through the sliding gla.s.s door and walked hastily to my bedroom.

I found her bent over the sink, letting her hand hang over the porcelain bowl as she applied pressure to the dressing. Her legs looked f.u.c.king remarkable in those short shorts with the rhinestones on the a.s.s. The shorts couldn't be much longer than maybe three inches past her crotch, and just that little bit of knowledge had my d.i.c.k raging to be let loose.

"You need some help, Baylee?" I finally asked when her head remained hung.

She startled and squeaked, whipping around quickly as her unhurt hand flew to her chest. "Holy s.h.i.t, Sebastian. You scared the ever loving s.h.i.t out of me."

I smiled, and then let my eyes roam from her pretty face to her cleavage that the low-cut shirt she was wearing exposed. "You look..." I hesitated, not even able to place the words.

"Like a mess?" Baylee supplied with raised eyebrows.

"Edible." My overstimulated brain finally managed to blurt out.

She snorted and spun back around to the sink.

Walking up behind her, I placed both of my hands on either side of her and leaned in, surveying the damage.

I could smell the cool, sweet smell of her lotion, and that alone made me hard as a pike. Which, in turn, made me put a little more distance between our bodies just in case she leaned back accidentally. I didn't want to scare her.

"What's the damage?" I asked.

She shivered slightly and turned her hand over, removing the dressing from her hand. Or what I thought was a dressing. "Is that a pad?"

She laughed. "Oh, G.o.d. This is embarra.s.sing. Yes, it's a pad. It's all Winter had."

I joined in her laughter as I surveyed the cut. "I've got some 4X4s in the cabinet in front of you. Some alcohol in there too. Would you rather a Bandaid or vet wrap?"

She thought for a minute as she reached forward and took the alcohol down, removed the lid, and poured it wholly on her hand. She hissed in her breath and something in my chest twinged when I saw the pain she was in, but I tamped it down.

Moving closer to her, erection forgotten, I held her hand close to my face and blew on it.

"You know, that's not very sanitary. There are thousands of germs in your mouth, and you just blew them all over my open wound." She provoked.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed a 4X4 gauze pad and ripped the packaging open, placing it on her hand firmly. "Does this have medication you can take?"

"This is with medication. You should see how it was without. Are you a medic, too?" She asked out of the blue.

"Ahh, no. I'm a firefighter and EMT basic. Why?" I asked.

"I saw your picture in the paper. Just wondering if you were a medic and firefighter." She explained.

"Oh," I said, ignoring the part about the picture. I was p.i.s.sed that night, and, even now, I was still p.i.s.sed. If I wanted to stay in this good mood, it'd be best to avoid that conversation if I could help it.

"Yeah, I'm certified as a basic, but that was a while ago. I was a firefighter in the Marines. Then came home and joined BFD." He explained.

"BFD?" She asked with a smile starting to break out on her face.

I rolled my eyes again. "How old are you, again?"

"Hey!" She snapped. "It's not my fault that that's the acronym for 'big f.u.c.king deal.' And I'm twenty eight, thank you very much."

"Hmm," I said as I reached for the large Band-Aids I kept in the drawer that Baylee's leg was currently blocking.

Using my hand, I wrapped it around her lower thigh, and pushed her gently backwards until her back was plastered up against my front.

I couldn't help but wish that her top was gone, allowing us to be skin to skin. However, that was too soon, seeing as I hadn't even spoken to her about anything of significance since I'd met her.

"Watch your leg. Band-Aids are in this drawer in front of you." I instructed.

I reluctantly let the smooth skin of her thigh go and opened the childproof lock on the drawer.

"Why do you have childproof locks on your drawer?" She asked curiously.

"My son is a curious little s.h.i.t. Most of the time I keep my door closed, but there are times he likes to sneak in here when I'm not paying attention and dump all my s.h.i.t down the toilet." I said absently as I peeled the wrapper.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do with s.h.i.t?" She teased.

My eyes went from the cut I was covering, to her face. Her eyes were full of mirth, and I smiled back at her. "Yeah, I guess you're right. However, it's kind of nice to be able to flush the toilet if I need to."

"Yeah, I can see how that'd be a plus. I didn't realize you had a son. Were you married?" She said breezily.

She said it so nonchalantly that I realized that she was truly interested in the answer, although she didn't want to be.

"No. Johnny never knew his mother. Lindsey died in the same motorcycle accident that I was speaking about the other night." I expounded.

"Oh, Sebastian. I'm so sorry. That's terrible." She said sadly.

As she apologized, she turned in my arms so she could see my face, and I found myself nearly pinning her in. "I wasn't that close to Lindsey. It made me feel awful that she died, but there was nothing I could do to change the outcome."

She nodded in understanding. "Where is your son? I didn't see him as I made my way inside."

I stared at her. Her eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner. Not so much that she looked trashy or anything, but enough that it made her eyes pop with color. Today, those eyes looked more gray than blue, as they had the other day, and I wondered if they changed with her mood. She didn't look like she was wearing anything else though, and that made me happy.

I wasn't a big fan of primping. I liked when a woman looked natural.

"He's with Lindsey's mother. They have him every other weekend and Wednesdays." I told her before backing away before I did something stupid like kiss her, and then f.u.c.k her against the counter.

"That's nice of you. You don't have to let them see him." She said, sounding grateful that I'd given her s.p.a.ce.

"Yeah, they're good people. Older, but they have fun with Johnny." I agreed as I held the door open.

"Thanks for fixing my hand. It happens a lot. I should be better prepared than I am." She said to me as she walked through my bedroom to the door.

We both studiously ignored the large bed that dominated the master bedroom and walked back out into the family room. My place was a f.u.c.king mess already, and I hated that I'd have to clean all this s.h.i.t up by myself later. Those stupid f.u.c.king so called friends of mine didn't know how to find a trashcan if it was right in front of their G.o.d forsaken faces.

Baylee absently grabbed empty beer bottles and used paper plates as she walked past them, and tossed them in the trashcan as she headed out onto the deck.

"You have a nice place here." She observed as she took in the new deck chairs.

"Yeah, I've been saving up for this place since I turned eighteen. Had it built on a plot of land my dad owned. He deeded it to me when I left the military." I told her.

"When I got out of college, my parents offered me their house. They wanted to move into something on the lake there. I didn't want it though. It was f.u.c.king ma.s.sive and I didn't want to mow the lawn." Baylee laughed.

Hand on her lower back, I led her down the hill, heading for my spot I'd vacated earlier in my quest to get to a hurt Baylee. "Yeah, this place looks like a f.u.c.kin' jungle if I don't mow it once a week. Can't deviate from that either, or there would be a ton of snakes hiding in the yard, using the taller gra.s.s as cover."

"Hey, I wholeheartedly agree. Snakes are not my friend. Nor are frogs. Or bugs. Or rodents." Baylee's laughter tinkled, causing everyone to stop their conversation and stare as we made our way down the hill towards them.

A wave of possessiveness overcame me as I took in all the men from the station, as well as my own MC members, staring at the lovely vision before me. I wanted to rip their eyes from their sockets just for staring at my woman, but refrained.

Barely.

And when the h.e.l.l did she become my woman?

h.e.l.l, I didn't know. What I did know is that I wanted her. And that I wouldn't be letting her go. Especially since Baylee was all I could think about. I'd catch myself doing that constantly, daydreaming when I should be working.

s.h.i.t like that was dangerous. In my line of work it could easily get me killed.

My hand went out to Baylee's, grabbing it tight as I could, while I helped her up onto the deck, and led the way down the dock towards the gazebo, and the rest of the crew. As we got closer, everyone noted Baylee's hand grasped possessively in my large one. Eyebrows raised, but no one asked.

They didn't need to. Baylee was mine, and it was more than obvious.

"Who's your woman, Su..." Dad asked before I interrupted him with a curt barked retort.

"Don't you f.u.c.king dare." I snarled, making Baylee jump.

My father's lips curved into an evil smile. "What's wrong, Sue? You don't want your lady friend knowing your name?"

My head fell back, and I contemplated the wooden beams of the gazebo's roof while I willed my temper to take a back seat.

My father was such a d.i.c.k. He knew how much I hated that middle name. h.e.l.l, every time I even thought about my middle name, I wanted to rage at someone. Sure, it wasn't that bad. But, when you took into account my father's obsession with Johnny Cash, and then the name, Sebastian, I never heard the end of it.

I sure felt for the man in Johnny Cash's song, A Boy Named Sue.

Flipping my head back down and glaring at all the people giggling like little f.u.c.king girls I groaned. "Thanks, dad. Really wanted her to know that."

"Anytime, son. Anytime. Take a seat. How's your hand, sugar?" My father turned his probing eyes to Baylee.

Baylee smiled at my father and sat down gingerly on the bench that only allowed enough room for the both of us to sit within inches of each other.

She landed with a soft plunk, and I used the closeness of Baylee's body to throw my arm up over her shoulders to run along her back.

Winter and Shiloh, who were sitting by my father, both with huge smiles on their faces; I glared at them to make sure they kept their s.h.i.t to themselves.

"It's okay. I'm a clumsy person. This happens a lot." She told my nosy father.

Torren, the comedian of all The Dixie Wardens' brothers, watched the interaction with a smile on his lips. Then, as if on cue, he stood and faced Baylee.

"Baylee, my dear. I'm Torren. It's very nice to meet you." He said as he held his hand out for Baylee to shake.

I knew where this was going even before Torren stood up, and couldn't help the groan that slipped from my lips before Torren's mouth even started to move.

"Nice to meet you, too." Baylee said soberly.

"I want to ask you a serious question, and you have to promise to be truthful. This is an ongoing debate at the firehouse," Torren was interrupted by groans by everyone within hearing distance. We'd all seen and heard this particular argument before. Many times.

He glared, but continued with the question. He asked every single woman that ever gets close to the club or firehouse. Why would Baylee be any different? "...do you watch The Bachelor?"

Baylee stayed silent for a few moments before shaking her head. "No. I think that's the most ridiculous show on the face of the planet."

Cheers rose throughout the men, and most of the women groaned. I found myself smiling, despite the ridiculousness of the entire debate.

"Thank you, Jesus!" Torren said, pumping his fist before taking his seat.

"What's the big deal?" Baylee asked, pulling her feet up onto the bench, effectively getting closer to my own body without realizing it.

My hand came to a rest on her up raised knee, and she instinctively curled into my body, leaning her head on my chest.

I turned my head slightly, letting my chin rub against the top of her head. The smell of her shampoo rose up, and I took a deep breath, smelling the clean smell of her.