Wicked stands and gestures to the kitchen. I leave my bag on the counter as he leans against the fridge. “Gonna need to spend some time at the clubhouse over the next few days. Was thinking you and him can come with?”

I chew on my lip, my eye twitching. “Smart of you to invite us both.”

The corner of his lip curls. “Well, I sure as fuck know you won’t be letting him come alone.”

I sigh, lowering myself onto a dining chair. “I guess we need to talk about all of that at some point, but you’re right, it’s too soon, and I don’t want him to be away from me right now, even if he does know you’re his father.” Leaning forward, my fingers itch for a cigarette. Dammit. Quitting is hard. “But I understand so we will come. Honestly, I need to plan this fucking wedding, so Betty will be spending time there too.”

“Fine.” Wicked rolls his eyes, going back into the lounge. “I’ll pack his bag.”

“You know…” Val interrupts when Wicked has disappeared.

“Shut up, Val,” I mutter, resting my head on the back of the chair.

“Is that bitch Sloane there?” Betty asks loudly so Wicked can hear as I clip Wolf into his belts.

I glare up at her as she slides into the passenger seat, flipping Wicked off. I’m positive he would have done it first as he clips his helmet over his head and fires up his bike.

“I haven’t asked.” Shutting the back door, I shuffle into the driver’s seat and push to start. Buying the G 63 was a family car move, but I don’t think I’ll buy another one again.

“Why not?” Betty asks as I drive out of the underground parking, gazing up at the rearview mirror to see Wicked following closely behind.

“Because then it will sound like I care.”

“Because you do care.”

I turn the music up and ignore her the whole way to the other side of town. When I roll us to a stop, waiting for the prospect at the gate to open it, she leans forward, removing her glasses. “Holy shit. This is somehow both not what I expected, yet what I expected.”

“It’s not that bad,” I say, pushing us forward and hooking a right under the carport. Wicked parks beside my car and Betty laughs.

“Did you both plan this? The white Harley and the white Merc?”