Forty-Two

Having woken up too comfortable and content to want to move, but also desperately craving a tall glass of OJ, Eden finally summoned the energy to climb out of bed, only to end up giggling when strong arms tightened around her to hold her back.

"And where d'ya think you're goin', huh, lass?" Chibs mumbled, sounding as if he was still more than half asleep himself, even as he pressed a sleepy kiss to her shoulder.

"To get some juice. I'll be back," she told him, smiling at his little groan of protest when she eased herself free and slipped out from under the covers. "Want anything?"

"Just your cute wee arse back in this bed," he grinned, finally cracking an eye open and shifting onto his back to drink in the sight of her pulling on one of his t-shirts, one arm tucked behind his head.

She was still laughing, her cheeks lightly flushed from the heat of his gaze, when she padded down the – for once – quiet hallway that led back to the clubhouse bar. It was still early though, the whole place still and undisturbed in the soft early morning light. Or at least so she thought, until she rounded a corner and bumped straight into a figure trying to tread equally as quietly as she was.

Just about managing to clamp down on her startled squeak of fear, Eden's hand flew to her chest, her heart thumping. "Lyla! Jesus, you scared the shit outta me," she declared, before the other woman could hush her. "What are you doing here this early?"

"I … uh, just wanted to … make a start in the garage," the blonde said vaguely. "The paperwork's a mess and, well, you know these guys …"

"This early though? The sun's barely up," Eden noted, wrinkling her nose in disapproval. "I was just getting-"

"Hey, Lyla? You forgot your earrings, doll …"

Lyla froze as she watched the realisation slowly dawn on Eden's face, her eyes widening as she turned to stare at the biker who'd stuck his head out of a dorm room - only to discover his error and retreat again, albeit with a little grin on his face.

"It's not what you think," Lyla tried, unconvincingly.

"Oh, of course not," Eden grinned. "Clearly you let him borrow your earrings 'cause they brought out the colour of his eyes …"

"Shit," Lyla sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Eden, you can't say anything. Not to anyone."

"So there is something to tell!" her friend beamed excitedly. "Oh my god-"

"I'm serious! Not a word!"

Huffing a sigh, Eden considered for a moment. "Can I at least tell Chibs?"

"No!"

"Oh, come on, he won't say anything and I have to tell someone or I'll burst," Eden grinned. "You can't ask me to keep secrets from my old man."

"Oh really?" Lyla shot back archly, poking her friend lightly in the stomach. "Told him about that little secret yet, have you? And while we're on the subject, I dunno how he hasn't noticed something's up because your boobs already look huge!"

"They do not! And also, wow, low blow," Eden protested, raising her eyebrows at the growl of frustration she got in return.

"Okay, fine – you can tell Chibs. But only because I'm trusting the two of you to keep your mouths shut. I do not want to be the talk of the clubhouse. Okay?"

"Okay, okay!" Eden agreed, quickly slipping her arm through Lyla's and trailing her with her. "Now, come on. I need OJ and you need to spill …"


"What happened? Did ya have to go pick the oranges yersel', love?" Chibs drawled lazily when his old lady finally returned, an excited smile on her face.

"Sorry, unexpected diversion," Eden said, two steaming mugs of tea in her hands.

"Ah, you angel," the Scotsman added, taking both teas from her to let her slip back under the covers and then handing hers back. "So? What kept ya?"

"Bumped into Lyla," she told him, a look that suggested this was highly significant on her face.

"Lyla? Bit early for her, ain't it? That lass works too damn hard …"

"She didn't just get here though."

"I … don't follow," Chibs frowned.

"She stayed the night," Eden blurted out, unable to draw it out any longer. "With Knox!"

Chibs nearly choked on his tea.


Despite having decided she might as well actually make a start in the office, Lyla found she couldn't actually concentrate and ended up sinking down at the desk piled with paperwork, her head in her hands. The sound of a clearing throat had her looking round though, a dark look on her face.

"Don't tell me I'm back in the bad books," Knox sighed, leaning a shoulder against the frame of the door.

"What happened to discretion?" the little blonde snapped. "What happened to keeping things between us?"

"Oh, come on, Lyla – it wasn't like I did it on purpose. Besides, it's only Eden. She won't say anything. She's a good girl and she's your friend."

"And she'll tell Chibs and he'll accidentally say something in front of … I dunno … Tig. And then it'll be round every charter by the end of the day."

"Listen, no offense, but I think you're seriously overestimating the level of interest in my sex life."

"Ugh, can you just go away now, please?" she said, raking her hands through her long hair, her frustration and distress obvious.

"Damn, doll, that's cold," Knox noted, folding his arms across his broad chest. "And actually, no, I can't. Not even if I wanted to. Chibs wants me here. Bit of back-up. Club shit. I ain't getting into it."

"Really?" Lyla said sceptically.

"Uh, get over yourself, darlin'. Yes, really. Ask him if you don't believe me."

"Maybe I will."

"You do that."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Scowling back at her as she glared at him, Knox turned away exasperated, but he didn't get more than a few feet when he turned and strode back into the office, pulling her up from her chair and into his arms in one fluid move to plant a forceful kiss on her stunned mouth.

"I know you had a good time last night," he declared, once she'd pulled away and socked him indignantly in the arm. "Come find me when you're prepared to talk and not bite my damn head off. 'Cause, doll-face, I ain't going anywhere."

Sauntering off, the Rogue River sergeant left the object of his affections fuming as she stared after him. Although there just might have been a little sparkle in her eyes as her hand drifted to her kiss-bruised lips.

"Asshole," Lyla muttered, knowing full well she didn't mean it and inwardly cursing the visiting biker's unquestionable charisma.


By the time she'd finished pointlessly opening drawers just to slam them and moving piles of paperwork from place to another, Lyla had to just give in to the urge for caffeine and brave the clubhouse, only to find none other than Knox sat alone at a table with a pot of coffee, flicking through a discarded and out-of-date motorcycle magazine.

"Coffee?" he offered, holding up the pot like he'd known she'd show up eventually.

"Fine," she nodded, going to grab a clean mug and then joining him at the table. "Look, before you say anything, it's not you, okay?"

"Oh good," the dark-haired biker drawled. "Because if last night wasn't fucking incredible in your book, you're setting the bar pretty goddamn high …"

Lyla rolled her eyes at that. "I see your shyness still needs work," she sighed.

"Hey, I just know a good thing when I'm on to it," he shrugged. "And you and me … Come on, cut a guy some slack here and just admit you had a good time! I know you did, Ly – I was there, remember? And I'm pretty sure I've got the marks to prove it …"

She flushed at that, a sudden memory of her nails raking his muscular back and biting his shoulder to keep from crying out flitting through her mind and making him smirk at the look on her face.

"Knox …"

All his bravado melted away at the sound of genuine distress in her voice.

"What kinda prick have you got me down as, huh?" he sighed. "Come on, I ain't gonna broadcast this, Lyla. Especially if you want to pretend it never happened. Credit me with a shred of common fucking decency."

"I said it wasn't you and I meant it, you know," she said quietly, exhaling as she toyed with her coffee mug to avoid looking at him. "It's Opie."

"Opie?" Knox echoed, with a little frown, although he wasn't so tactless as to point out the obvious and instead waited for her to offer some kind of explanation.

"I know he's gone," Lyla said finally, as if she'd read his mind. "But round this place, I'm just still so … tied up with him. Opie's wife, Opie's widow, Opie's kids' guardian. And it's not that I mind so much, I know the place that's given me. A good job, a roof over the kids' heads. Protection. A family to belong to, even if it is a pretty dysfunctional one. But I don't know what happens to that if they start seeing me as … as just another croweater. If they feel like I'm disrespecting his memory …"

"No one could expect you to live in his shadow for ever, darlin'," Knox tried, deciding to address what was in his mind the least difficult part of all that, rather than look at the much more complex issue of what was actually going on between them. "Not even Opie."

But she was draining the last of her coffee and pushing his hand away. "I'm sorry, Knox, I never should have let this – whatever this is - go this far. And it can't happen again. Please respect that."

"Lyla …"

She pretended not to hear him as she hurried off, back to the garage office where she could shut the door and block out the rest of the world. Him included.


Strolling out of church that evening, Chibs smiled to see his old lady perched on a stool to chat to Charlie as he cleaned behind the bar, both of them looking a little more like their usual selves after all they'd been through.

"You good, little brother?" the president asked, reaching across the bar to ruffle the young prospect's hair teasingly before slipping an arm around Eden's waist. He'd warned them both that his old lady basically adopting the lad into her family didn't buy him any favours with the club, but secretly Chibs had no intention of being too hard on him while he was still grieving for his mother. The kid still had to earn his place, but he was fond of him all the same. "Two beers, Charlie-Boy, and look sharp."

"Uh, one beer," Eden corrected firmly. "He's on medication and I'm good with water."

"Spoilsport," Chibs frowned, but she just smiled sweetly at him and leaned in to peck a tiny kiss on his lips.

"You shouldn't be drinking at all," she reminded him. "So count yourself lucky I'm allowing you that much."

"You hearing this, Charlie? That's how they play it, son – wait 'til yer well and truly hooked and then start getting really bloody bossy," Chibs noted, grinning when all it got him was a playful punch in the arm. "Easy, darlin', I'm an injured man! You're meant to be taking care o' me …"

Eden feigned offence, her arms wrapping around his neck. "I take plenty of care of you, if I remember rightly."

But Chibs just laughed. "Careful, love, you'll make the boy blush," he grinned, giving Charlie the finger when he pretended to throw up at the couple's display of affection before bustling off to restock the drinks supply. "See, scared him away."

"I'll scare you away in a minute," Eden laughed, letting him kiss her again before she realised his attention had started to wander. "Oh, sorry, am I boring you, honey?"

"No chance," he declared, pressing a little kiss to her neck. "But ya got me wondering, if Lyla and Knox are a thing, why do the two o' them look so bloody miserable? No, don't look, darlin' …"

"How can I see if you're right if I don't look?" Eden said, trying to sneak a peek over his shoulder, under the guise of kissing him. "Ugh, you're right – something's definitely up. What do we do?"

"Uh, keep our noses out o' it?" Chibs suggested wryly.

"And let our friends just be miserable? That's no good. Maybe we should talk to them …"

"And maybe we should leave well enough alone. Listen, I love the pair o' them, but I ain't a bleedin' agony aunt, pet. They'll work it out."

"Maybe you're right," Eden sighed, turning back to the bar to sip her sparkling water and leaning back against his chest as he stood behind her stool with his arms wrapped contentedly around her waist.

They turned away just in time to miss the moment the clubhouse door opened and a latecomer slipped inside, dark eyes seeking out the Samcro president and noting the young woman in his arms.

"Some things never change, do they, Filip?" came the murmur, too low for him to hear.