The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 70

Chapter 47-2

We eat sitting wherever there’s space: toolboxes, overturned buckets, workbenches, the tailgate of Tucker’s pickup parked outside the garage doors. Nobody seems particularly concerned with tables. Conversation bounces between motorcycles, football, club gossip and whether Diesel genuinely believes he can fix anything with duct tape.

“I fixed your exhaust,” he tells Brick.

“You ruined my exhaust,” Brick rejoined.

“It stopped rattling.”

“It fucking fell off.”

“Bah. Bullshit details, man.”

Laughter rolls through the garage again, and I look around slowly. At Jade animatedly arguing with Diesel about whether eating a third brownie negates any of salad’s health benefits. At Mayhem stealing fries off my plate because apparently being my older brother still entitles him to what he’s called ‘grand theft potato’ since he was ten.

In the midst of all this chaos, the garage door slides open, and I turn to see Locke walking toward us.

Dark jeans. Black T-shirt. Cut over his broad chest. The afternoon sun catches the silver at his temples as he smiles – just slightly – when his eyes find me. It’s ridiculous how just one look from that man manages to heat up something inside me.

He takes in the scene at a glance. The dismantled motorcycles, the half-eaten burgers, the grease covering my arms.

“You’ve had fun, baby,” he says to me.

I grin. “What gave me away?”

He nods toward my face. “You’re smiling like a loon.”

Mayhem wanders over. “She’s been insufferable. Bossing around every man here.”

“I’ve been an excellent employee,” I say with great dignity.

“You’ve corrected Tucker twice.”

“Three times,” I say. “And I’ve now I’ve corrected you once.”

Tucker points a greasy wrench at me. “Don’t encourage her, Tanner.”

Locke’s mouth twitches. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I heard that,” I say.

“I know.” Locke walks over until he’s standing in front of me. ‘You were meant to.”

“Rude,” I mutter.

14

Chapter 422-

Clam

His gaze travels briefly over the streak of grease across my cheek, and something warm appears in his eyes. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I’ve been displaying it proudly for at least two hours.”

His laugh is quiet. “I figured you’d enjoy getting dirty, baby.”

For a moment neither of us says anything, then he glances at the clock on the wall. “Ready?”

I blink. “For what?”

“Home.”

I look around the garage, then back at him. “Already?”

“You’ve done your four hours.”

“I know, but I want to stay longer.”

Mayhem folds his arms. “Cobra’s orders.”

I groan dramatically. “You’ve all become impossible.”

“No,” Jade says cheerfully. “We’re enforcing medical restrictions.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“Exactly what every stubborn Callahan says.”

“I object.”

“Overruled,” Jade says smartly.

I look helplessly toward Tucker, thinking that surely he’ll help me. Instead he points toward the door. “Go. You can finish the clutch whenever you get back.”

“I might be out for a few days… I could finish it today.”

“You could.”

“So let me.”

“No. You need to rest up for tomorrow.”

I stare at all of them, one by one. That’s when the penny finally drops.

“You’ve been talking to my Dad about me,” I say. “About how I start chemotherapy tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” Mayhem says, even as Jade says “Definitely”.

“I knew it.” I glare around at them. “You assholes.”

2/4

Chapter 423.

Claim

Locke reaches for my jacket, helping me slip it on before I can protest again. “You made a deal with your Dad

“I know.”

“Chemo takes priority.”

“I know.”

“Part-time work at the garage only.”

“I still know.”

His voice lowers just enough that only I can hear. “And besides…”

I look up at him. “What?”

His eyes drift deliberately over the grease streaked across my arms, the smudge on my cheek. “I’ve got plans for you.”

My eyebrows rise. “Oh?”

He leans just a fraction closer. “You’re filthy, Zara.”

“I happen to like looking like this.”

“I happen to like looking at you like this.”

Heat creeps gently into my cheeks. “But…”

His voice drops another notch. “I think it’s probably time I took you home and got you cleaned up.”

Nothing about the words is explicit; nothing about the smile in his eyes is, either. It’s just the kind of teasing that makes my stomach flutter because I know exactly how carefully he’ll look after me when we get home and we’re alone. It’s like the teasing is flirting and foreplay… and I’m already breathless at where I know it’s all leading.

I shake my head, trying – and failing miserably – not to smile. “Now who’s being bossy?”

“Maybe me, maybe a little.” He slips his fingers through mine. “But to prove that I occasionally let you make decisions, how about I give you a choice?”

“A choice about what?” I ask, walking through the door that he holds open for me.

He leans in, that amazing mouth close to my ear, and he whispers. “Bath or shower together when we get home, baby?”

“Huh,” I say as desire ripples through me. “Well, we’ve had a bath together at my place, so maybe let’s have a shower at yours?”

“Perfect compromise,” Locke says, gently strapping the helmet on me, and helping me onto the back of his motorcycle. “See? I’m a reasonable man.”

I can’t argue with that. Unfortunately. He catches the smile tugging at my mouth before I can hide it, and his own appears in answer.

3/4

Chapter 422

There it is,” he says.

“What?”

“That smile.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re unbearably pleased with yourself.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

Claim

He reaches up, smoothing a stray strand of hair back beneath the edge of my helmet with a tenderness that makes my heart do something ridiculous.

“Because a few weeks ago,” he says quietly, “you weren’t smiling nearly enough.”

The teasing fades for just a heartbeat, and I look at him. Really look at him. Then, before I can embarrass myself by saying something hopelessly sentimental in the middle of the clubhouse parking lot, I lean forward and bump my helmet gently against his.

“You’re still bossy,” I say in a quiet voice.

“I know.”

“But…”

His eyebrows lift. “Yes?”

“I suppose I can live with it,” I say.

His grin is slow and completely unfair. “I had a feeling you could.”

He swings onto the motorcycle, waits until I’ve wrapped my arms around his waist, then reaches down to squeeze my hand where it rests against his ridiculously muscular abs.

“Hold on to me, baby.”

“I always do.”

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