Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) (2 page)

Fuck, I’ve even hidden in her bedroom when her parents have turned up at her place unexpectedly. In return, I’ve introduced her to my Club, and they’ve all taken her into our family. She’s even been to my parents’ for our monthly Sunday roast lunch.

A place I’ve only ever taken one other woman.

All I asked last night was that she finally acknowledge we’re more than a fucking fling. That went down well, resulting in a temper tantrum about me pushing her too fucking fast. Instead of listening to what I had to say like a bloody adult, she told me it was too hard and that we couldn’t see each other anymore.

Then she stormed off.

I’d decided then and there that I wasn’t chasing her anymore, so I’d left her alone today and was planning to do so from now on. There are only so many times I’m willing to bang my head against a brick wall before I give up.

Throughout the day, I’d slowly wrapped my head around the end of whatever the fuck it was that we had, only to have her come here tonight to fuck with my head again, jumping to conclusions that weren’t hers to make anymore.

Finishing my beer, I throw the empty bottle in the recycle bin before verbally prodding her again.

“You gonna stand there all night chewing on that luscious lip of yours? Or am I gonna get a straight answer?”

Sighing, she finally removes her teeth from her lip. “I need to think, Lucas. I came here to apologize, even though nothing’s changed. You want serious, and I can’t give you that...yet.”

“Bullshit. You can, but you won’t. Too scared of what everyone else thinks—that’s what you are.”

Approaching me as if I’m a wild animal she’s unsure of, JJ lifts herself up onto her tiptoes, and grabs me by the front of my shirt. She tugs hard, and after a moment’s hesitation, I lean down to her.

“I need time.” She breathes her words over my face before she touches her lips to mine. It takes every ounce of control I have not to pick her up, push her against the wall, and kiss her back before planting myself inside of her warm body.

Instead of giving in to my growing need, I pull back from her mouth.

“Six months is plenty of time.”

Her pretty, hope-filled face shuts down, and the professional mask she wears at work drops into place.
Awesome.
Here comes cold, calculating JJ.

“No, it’s not. I’ve told you it’s not. I need more time.”

Shaking my head at her, I gently push her away from me, toward the French doors that she entered through. She doesn’t even attempt to struggle to stay with me, heightening my doubts of the success of what I’m about to offer.

“One week, Doll. That’s it.” This ultimatum is going to bite me in the ass—I can feel it—but I need to do this. I’ve been burned before. Actually, I was more than burned—I was fucking incinerated.

I need upfront promises before I go down this road with another woman with daddy issues. “You’ve got one week. I’ll leave you alone for one week. So go home now, JJ, and think about how it felt when we met. Think about how
good
we are together. Think about how you feel when we’re apart. And when your week’s up, I’ll come find you. Then you can tell me if those feelings outweigh your
Daddy
being upset with you.”

When I emphasize the word “Daddy” she winces. It’s a low blow, but she’s supposed to be a grown woman. I
need
to know if she’ll ever be all in with me.

“All right, Lucas. I will. But you need to do one thing for me during this week.”

Fuck knows what else she wants from me.

I’ve done everything she’s asked of me, even when it’s chafed against my need to be straightforward.

“Anything, Doll.”

Walking to the French doors, she pauses with her hand on the door handle.

“I want you to figure out if I’m more important to you than Maddi. If I have to deal with the fall-out from my family for you, then I refuse to play second fiddle to
her
.”

JJ doesn’t wait for my answer. She simply walks out the door, leaving me with my mouth hanging open.

Fuck.

JJ

Present Day

W
hy does he have to be so impossible?

Throwing my keys on the dining room table, I pull open the fridge door, and mimicking Lucas’s earlier actions, grab a bottle of chilled white wine so I can pour myself a glass.

Sipping it, I run through what happened with him tonight, culminating in a damn ultimatum. An ultimatum that’s going to cost me something I want, no matter which option I choose.

Seeing Maddi, or Princess as Lucas calls her, straddling his lap, and pressing her lithe yet curvy body against his as she kissed him, killed me. Watching her run her hands through his hair made me want to break all of her fingers, and observing the way they looked at each other with a love that I’ve never been on the receiving end of caused the desire to scratch out her bright blue eyes to nearly overwhelm me. The final injury rendered to my psyche, was listening to the longing in the words he used to soothe the beautiful, upset woman.

The woman I now hate.

Remembering his earnest words brings unwanted tears to my eyes.

This whole scenario is foreign to me. Not once have I had a reaction to another woman touching a man I’m interested in, and seldom have I cared enough about what they had to say or what they felt to stick around for an argument.

It’s always been my way or the highway.

Lucas knocks me right out of my comfort zone.

His stupid ultimatum is going to keep me from sleeping tonight, which, coupled with the sleepless night I had after our argument yesterday, isn’t a good recipe for optimal performance in someone who needs her faculties operating at full speed every day.

BEEP.

Placing my now empty glass of wine on the counter, I fish my phone out of my leather satchel. Pathetic hope that it’ll be Lucas rises within me, only to be doused when I realize it’s my mother.

Well isn’t that just great?

On top of my relationship—or lack thereof—problems, I now get to look forward to becoming the victim of one of my father’s famous character assassinations. It could be regarding anything since there’s no limit to what he’s heard about me during his fortnightly “boys-only catch-up” with our mutual colleagues.

There’s little point engaging with her any further, so I throw my phone onto the table. She’ll never go behind my father’s back to give me a heads up. And she’ll never take my side over his. My parents are the poster children for perfect team parenting—my mother a stereotypical Stepford wife.

Grabbing my bottle of wine and empty glass, I head for my living room.

Maybe I can find sanctuary from my problems with Lucas and my father’s imminent phone call in the mindless drivel of my favorite reality show.

Unfortunately, I’m unable to distract myself for very long. Not even ten minutes later, my phone’s ringing and I’m running to answer it. One does not keep my father waiting without consequences when he knows you’ve been made aware of his intention to call.

“Hello, Daddy,” I answer, slightly breathless from my sprint to the dining table.

“Juliette Jane Patrice. What is this nonsense I hear about you carousing with outlaw biker gangs and allowing them to threaten Oliver Carter? Surely a young woman raised in the manner of yourself would have more sense? Are you deliberately trying to derail your career and embarrass me?”

Shit!

Of all the things I expected him to rant at me about tonight, this wasn’t one of them.

Nobody knows I’ve been seeing Lucas. And as for his Club threatening Ollie, that’s not an accurate account of what really happened.

“Now, Daddy...” I find myself cringing when I call him
Daddy—s
omething that’s only started since Lucas and his pointed comments about a woman my age addressing her father by such a juvenile title. “I’m not sure what Ollie has told you, but—"

As is his M.O., I’m not allowed to defend myself against the gospel that is Oliver Carter’s word. My father continues, ignoring anything I have to say as usual. “Juliette, I do
not
need excuses from you. I need you to stop behaving like a woman without morals, and fix this. I cannot believe that this has been kept from me for six months. As of tomorrow, you
will
be attending the director’s office with myself and Oliver, and rectifying this appalling situation.”

I don’t know what comes over me, but my mouth takes on a mind of its own when I answer his declaration. “No. I’m sorry, but I won’t be attending. What’s on record regarding Ollie is the truth.”

He coughs on the other end of the phone, as startled as I am by my uncharacteristic defiance.

“I beg your pardon?” His voice takes on a steelier tone. “Are you telling me that you agree with this ridiculous allegation that Oliver propositioned you and then made a false complaint against an outlaw motorcycle gang member to protect himself?

He sounds as if he’s barely keeping his temper under wraps. His tone is indignant, brimming with hostility. The familiar fear from my childhood overtakes me, threatening to choke my newfound ability to tell him the truth.

“That’s...um...that is exactly what I’m saying, Daddy...” My voice is weaker than I would’ve liked, trailing off at the end when he explodes.

“Preposterous! Juliette, you
will
meet me in my office at half past seven tomorrow morning to remedy this situation.”

Before I can say another word, my phone beeps three times and silence fills my ears. My father’s hung up on me, confident in the knowledge that I’ll do as I’m instructed without further remonstration.

Falling into the closest dining chair, I slump forward and bang my head on the table four times. When it doesn’t make me feel any better, I rest my forehead on the table and blink back my impending tears.

I will not cry over this.

Tamping down on my upset, I stoke my growing rage toward Ollie.

Damn him to hell.

Grabbing my phone, I open a new message to him.

I don’t expect him to answer, but I want him to know that I’m aware of his games. I’ve more than likely committed career suicide by texting him, yet I don’t care right at this moment.

Trying to avoid this exact situation with my father is the cause of Lucas’s anger toward me. I’ve tried to have the man I want while avoiding telling my parents and colleagues about us, because they’d never understand why I want someone like Lucas.

It kills me that it’s all been for nothing now that Ollie’s told my father his inaccurate version of events. I’m stuck in a losing position because there’s no way I can fix the situation with my father before the one week deadline for Lucas’s ultimatum arrives.

Thinking about what Lucas asked me to do during this week makes me feel worse.

How can he expect me to think about how we met?

About how good we are together?

Surely he already knows how I feel when we’re apart?

The unexpected reply from Ollie breaks my reverie. His veiled threat causes my stomach to churn. The nausea becomes worse when I remember how the problem he’s blaming on me actually began. I dash for my kitchen sink and dry heave into it, my body channelling the stress it’s under into physical symptoms.

JJ

Six Months Earlier

“S
houldn’t you be finished already, JJ?”

Swinging around to face the owner of the voice that interrupted my mental gymnastics, I find myself looking up into the face of Dr. Oliver Carter. His handsome face is covered by a smile, dimples showing, his smarmy personality shining from his eyes.