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“Starved,” I say, even though it has absolutely nothing to do with food.
15
SHANE
Harloe is serving dinner when I turn the corner from taking a quick shower. After we all walked inside, she sent us off in opposite directions to wash off the sweat and dirt, making it clear no one was allowed to eat until that happened. She’s damn bossy, but I don’t mind it.
There’s not much I do mind when it comes to Harloe Harrison.
Her blue eyes snag mine, and the heat of her stare moves all the way to my cock. “I hope you like chicken enchiladas and salad.”
“I like anything you’re willing to cook,” I tell her, grabbing the dish out of her hands and motioning for her to sit. “You shouldn’t be serving us. We should be serving you.”
“She didn’t want help.” Aiden shrugs, standing to make a plate for himself after I serve Harloe’s food and then set it back on the stove.
East hops up next, filling his own plate. “Speaking of who is serving us—”
“Serving or servicing?” Aiden cuts him off.
“Both actually.” East grins unapologetically, flicking a leaf of lettuce at him. Aiden picks it off his shoulder and drops it back on East’s plate. “We need to start recruiting patch bunnies. My room is a fucking mess.”
I snort out a laugh. “We don’t even have a clubhouse yet. Clean your own fucking room.”
“Patch bunnies?” Harloe angles her head, looking at East like he’s grown another head.
“Chicks who hang around the clubhouse.” He spears a cucumber with his fork. “This is more green shit than I’ve seen on my plate… ever.”
“Just say thank you.”
“Thanks, Harloe.” He smiles big and flirty, and I consider punching him in the face. “Not bad. Never met a vegetable I liked until now. Damn, this shit is good.”
“It’s the vinaigrette. Family recipe. I’m glad you like it.” Her cheeks are a pretty shade of pink from East’s compliment. “So, what do you mean when you say chicks who hang around the clubhouse? Like the buckle bunnies who hang out around the rodeo?”
“Yeah, basically.” East shrugs, filling his mouth with another bite of lettuce. “Girls chasing our patches or dicks, looking for a little fun. Some come and go. Some hang around for the night; others move in for a while and help around the clubhouse. Cooking, cleaning. Or, my favorite—fucking.”
“They move in to have sex with you?” Her eyebrows pinch.
“It’s not like we force them to be here. They want our attention, and we give it to them. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Harloe’s face has lost some color as she considers that. She’s quiet for a moment before her eyes widen.
“Wait a minute, is that what you think this is?” Her gaze darts around the table. “Do you think I’m a patch bunny?”
“That’s not what this is,” I say firmly, planting a hand over hers on the table.
I glare at East, who grins around his bite. But I don’t take my eyes off him because he needs to clear this up before I cave his face in. He might be my brother by patch, but I don’t need Harloe thinking I brought her here to clean the clubhouse or flirt with the guys.
“You’re not, don’t worry,” East agrees, reluctantly. “Shane already said no sharing.”
“Fuck, East.” I rub my palm down my face while Aiden chuckles.
“What?” East says, like he honestly doesn’t understand what the problem is. “I’m agreeing with you.”
“Yeah, thanks for that,” I grumble, taking a bite of food.
I’m not ashamed of my past, and I’ve been pretty clear on all the reasons Harloe should avoid me. Still, I don’t need her thinking that all I am is some fuckboy asshole who treats women like objects.
But when I glance at Harloe, she doesn’t seem the least bit disgusted. If anything, amusement and curiosity stir in her eyes.
