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and look down at Zachery. I didn’t see Alannah with him. Why would he come here on his own?
    “I know you’re in there.” A deep alluring voice oozes through the door.
    Moving quickly, I pull the chain across and open the door as far as the chain will allow.
    Without the door blocking his full view, it’s Slade and he is carrying containers of what looks like food.
    “What are you doing here?” I ask, not meaning to sound so clipped.
    “I thought you might prefer some home cooked food instead of Hank’s shit from the diner.”
    He’s right, I would prefer some home cooked food. It has been too long since we ate something that hasn’t been fried or cooked in grease.
    “Are you gonna open the door? These aren’t gettin’ any lighter,” he smirks.
    Spying on his muscled arms, I highly doubted he was struggling with the weight of the food.
    I closed the door again and unlatched the chain. When the door was open he came in looking around, when he spotted the small table in the corner, he put the containers down and pulled out a chair.
    “Sit.”
    Who the hell does he think he is coming in and ordering me around?
    “Zachery needs to eat too.”
    I don’t know why I say this.
    “Of course he does,” he says, unable to hide his laugh at my awkwardness, “There’s plenty for him too. Now, come and eat before it goes cold.”
    He’s even brought plates and silverware with him. While he is dishing up the food that has my mouth watering, I pick up Zachery and sit him on my lap at the table.
    “Are you gonna be able to eat like that?” he asks, pointing to Zachery.
    “Yes, you learn to adapt at meal times when you have to,” I tell him, “Also, there isn’t a high chair here,” I shrug.
    He places two plates of Pasta and chicken in front of us and takes the second chair for himself, loading up his own plate.
    “Did you cook this?” I ask.
    Judging on his appearance, I wouldn’t have pegged him to stand at a stove and cook.
    “No, one of the old lady’s did,” he replied.
    That’s more like it. I hope the lady isn’t too old, I’d hate the thought of him making her cook just for me.
    Zachery wasn’t attempting to touch his food, he was more interested in watching Slade.
    I was halfway through my meal before Slade began eating. As soon as Zachery noticed this he began eating too.
    When Slade placed his fork on the plate and took a sip from his beer, Zachery put his fork his fork down too and reached for his juice cup.
    How strange.
    Apart from Zachery slurping his juice, the room was quiet, too quiet.
    “Do you always drink and drive?” I ask, nodding at his beer.
    “Not always, but it’s only the one.”
    When Slade began eating again so did Zachery.
    Great, he won’t say momma but he will copy everything the freakin’ biker does.
    “This really is good food, thank you for thinking of us,” I say politely.
    It is in this moment when he smiles a lop-sided grin that I see him differently. He doesn’t look like a criminal in leather anymore, he looks like a regular guy.
    Just a regular guy with a sexy as smile who was thoughtful enough to bring us food.
    “It was nothin’, I was owed a favour,” he mumbles.
    “How does an old lady owe you a favour?” I ask, intrigued that he would take favours from the elderly.
    “Do you know much about clubs like ours?” he asks amused.
    I shake my head no and await to see where he’s going next.
    “When I say ‘old lady’ I don’t mean an actual old lady. In a club like ours, when we settle down in a long term relationship or we get married, the woman is given the title of ‘old lady.’ It means she belongs to a brother and no one else, she isn’t shared around the club. Everyone knows who she is and treats her with respect.”
    I take this information in and part of me feels like it should be controlling to be classed as belonging to someone, then the other part feels the safety of having someone that committed to them.
    “Do you have an old