Page 7 of Spook’s Honor

My thoughts are broken when Spook gently grips my elbow. “Over here,” he says, leading me over to where Angel, Fern, and the rest of the Mondes are sitting.

God, it’s hard to believe I’ve gone from being alone to being surrounded by a bunch of people who are strangers right now—but people I know would welcome me into their family if I wanted that.

Tru and Janis come out from a corridor, one carrying a mat and the other what looks like a garage and a bag of cars. The boys start bouncing in my arms, taking me by surprise. My grip tightens, but they’re heavy, and I can feel them slipping.

Warmth hits my back as arms circle me. Spook slides his hands beneath my arms, supporting me and taking most of the boys’ weight.

“Boys,” he growls. They both still in my arms at the authoritative tone and look back at him. They’re not scared though… just aware.

“Bring them over here,” Tru says, sitting down and placing a car at the top of the garage, gently pushing it down the little slide.

“Me?” Reed asks.

“Sure thing, honey,” I reply. Not thinking, I bend to allow him to slide from my arm. I freeze, tensing, and my belly dips when I feel what can only be a rock-hard cock nestling in the cleft of my ass.

Spook grunts and moves away. My cheeks flush. Jesus, what was it about this man?

Deciding now isn’t the time to explore whatever this is, I gather my skirts and sink to the floor with Mason, placing him on my lap. The knife strapped to my right thigh shows for a second before I tug my skirt over it, hiding it from curious little eyes.

Tru giggles. I look up to find her grinning wide. Janis wiggles her eyebrows at me. I shake my head, but when I glance around, all the women look amused.

Rolling my eyes, I decide to ignore everyone and play with Reed and Mason. Kids I understand. Adults, not so much. They’re too complicated, and too fond of hiding what they feel.

I’m here to connect with my biological parents. Whatever this thing is between Spook and me will have to wait. I’m not going to derail my relationship with Angel and Axle because my hormones are running wild.

Although... my lord. There’s nothing I’d like more than to climb that man like a tree, then ride him until we’re a broken, sweaty mess.

But as that won’t be happening anytime soon, I remind myself, I’ll concentrate on my new family, and hope Spook lets me keep playing with the boys. I’m starting to assume he’s single, because I haven’t seen another woman in the clubhouse. Certainly not one acting proprietary over Mason and Reed.

Tru leans forward and whispers, “He’s single.”

I raise my eyebrows, and Tru grins. Janis smirks. They’re a little younger than me, but I already know I’m going to like them.

I sniff. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

They laugh loudly. My cheeks catch fire. I thought I’d been so good at hiding my interest.

Siera, their mother, sinks onto the floor beside me and nudges me with her shoulder.

“Ignore the teasing. It just means they like you. They are right, though. He’s single and looking for a nanny.” She winks and wriggles her brows at me. “Just saying, you know, in case you want a job.”

“Fuck, Siera, don’t frighten her away,” Angel says, sitting next to me. “Ignore my meddling sister and nieces, Honor. They’re interfering and, in your business, but I promise, they mean no harm.”

Shrugging, I turn to Angel and nudge her with my shoulder.

“I know they don’t. I like them. They want me here so we can get to know each other. They care about you, and I’m happy about that. Never apologise for them loving you.”

Angel blinks away the sheen of tears that shadow her eyes for a minute. She exhales a relieved breath, and takes the car Reed hands her, pressing an absent-minded kiss to his hand. “I’m happy that you understand that. I know this is awkward, but I promise we're good people who only want to get to know you.”

Ugh, this woman is way too sweet for words. My heart is already making room for her, and I’ve known her less than an hour. I can tell she’s good to her soul though, and someone that I’d like in my life.

“And on that note...” Tru leans towards me and whispers, “How many knives do you have strapped on you?”

“Two today; I typically wear three as a general rule,” I responded. “But I’m not wearing my boots. I’ve got a really cool pair from a lady who makes them in the UK. She shipped them to me. I paid a fortune, but they’re custom made and so comfortable.”

That sparks their interest. Somehow, I knew it would. We all seem cut from the same cloth.

“I need to see them,” Janis says. “Who made them for you?”