"Goddammit," Happy groaned as he opened his eyes and the dream disappeared. It was the second one in the week since the Taste of Charming and his odd make-out session with Caroline. The redheaded bitch never crossed his mind when he was awake, but apparently his subconscious was stuck on her. The first dream had been vague, full of lazy, floating images of her tight body, her laughing mouth, and that crazy mane of hair. This one was much more direct, and so realistic he could almost feel her skin under his hands when he awoke. He glanced down and saw that the hard cock her dream mouth had been wrapped around was definitely real. He rolled his eyes, embarrassed at himself. When the fuck had he started having sex dreams about rich, uptight cowgirls?

Happy rolled over and found the sweetbutt he'd fallen asleep next to still there. He used to be better about kicking them out when he was finished, but lately he didn't much care one way or the other. This one was going to come in handy. He nudged her shoulder roughly. "Hey, wake up."

The woman sat up, startled. She was raccoon-eyed, smeared makeup stretching from her eyebrows to her cheekbones. "Sorry," she mumbled, "didn't mean to fall asleep." She moved towards the edge of the bed, looking almost frightened.

"S'OK," Happy said, reaching for her arm. "C'mere." It didn't take much more than a nudge for her to figure out what he wanted, and a moment later she was closing her lips around him. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting his mind fill again with Caroline's curvy body and wide mouth. He had no idea why she was still in his head, but she might as well do some good while she was there.

-0-

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It's been three weeks since my last confession. I have been frustrated with and short to my mother on the phone. I didn't go to Mass last week or the week before." Caroline knelt in the confessional, amused to find that her aunt and uncle's church in Charming, just like her parents' in Montana, still did things old style. She smoothed her skirt over her knees before continuing. "I ask forgiveness for my bad attitude, for using foul language, and," she thought of the feeling of Happy's hands and lips on her in the parking lot, and of how many times she'd replayed that feeling in her head in the week since, "for having…impure thoughts."

In truth, it was her "thoughts" after her first meeting with Happy that had helped to convince Caroline to put off confession last week. Though she'd confessed both impure thoughts and deeds to her priest in Montana in the past, she wasn't looking forward to having her first confession with her new Charming priest focus on her attraction to the biker. Her own guilt about it was bad enough, without adding the humiliation of confessing it. But it had to be done. Caroline had been Catholic since her christening, had never given much thought to it, and would no sooner have stopped confessing than stopped brushing her teeth.

"You must be cautious, my child," the priest replied. "Impure thoughts can lead to impure deeds."

Caroline groaned internally. She had very much been hoping this new priest would be of the same "listen, give penance, and get done" school as the one in Montana, but he was looking to be more of the ilk of the priests to whom she'd confessed while in Bozeman in college. The ones who wanted to talk about it. "Yes, Father," she replied.

"When these thoughts intrude, you must turn your mind to Our Lord," the priest continued. "Turn away from Satan when he tempts your body or your heart."

Unable to help herself, Caroline pictured the reaper patch on the back of all of the Sons' cuts. Certainly, if it had been Satan who was tempting her when Happy pushed against her in her truck cab, he hadn't been doing much to hide himself. "I will turn away from him, Father," she replied, hoping her acquiescence would end the conversation. In truth, she'd spent as much time over the past week wishing she hadn't stopped Happy's hands as wishing she had stopped him sooner. More, maybe. The wrongness of the idea—the horror of imagining giving her body so cheaply to a biker she didn't know in her truck cab, in a public parking lot—only made it more enticing. Though she hoped otherwise, Caroline suspected that no number of prayers was going to take that enticement away.

As the priest spelled out her penance, Caroline barely paid attention. The confessional had started to seem far too small and she was anxious to leave it. It wasn't until she had completed her rosaries and was out of the church completely and crossing the parking lot towards her truck that she began to breathe easy again.

-0-

Chibs smiled when he saw the international calling code come up on his phone. In the nearly sixteen months since the Sons' return from Belfast, Fiona had been true to her word—either she or Kerrianne called regularly. Though his relationship with his daughter was building slowly, it was building, and his family felt closer than it ever had before.

As it turned out, though, this call was not a completely friendly one. Fi's voice was much colder than he'd gotten used to. "You promised Kerrianne you'd visit at least once a year, Filip," she said. "It's been far longer than that."

"I know, Fi, and I'll come. I've just had my hands full 'ere with the boys away an' all."

"They're out now."

"They are, but…" Chibs trailed off. He knew nothing he could explain was going to be a good excuse not to make the trip back to Ireland. And, in truth, he wanted to go. He wanted to see his daughter, of course, and he also missed Fi. Though he'd never expected it to happen again, they'd been together when he was in Belfast. Maybe it was just the excitement and fear, but she'd surrendered her body to him in a way that had existed only in his memory for over a decade. Though she'd been distant afterwards, he thought about it often and definitely wouldn't mind a replay. It made no difference how many young, silicone-enhanced porn stars he got into his bed; there was nobody like his Fiona.

"But nothing, Filip." The anger in Fi's voice jostled Chibs out of his brief foray into memory. "You want your daughter to trust you? Then be good on your word." Listening to her, Chibs could picture her pursed lips and drawn brow.

"You're right," he said. "It's time I'm seein' my girls." Though he wasn't at all looking forward to explaining to Clay why now would be a good time for a trip across the pond, Chibs knew Fiona was right—he had promised Kerrianne he'd visit, and he'd already stayed away longer than he'd intended to. "I miss Kerrianne…and her ma."

On the other end of the line, Fiona laughed. "You're incorrigible." She sounded pleased, though. "When will you come?"

-0-

It turned out not to be so hard to get away as Chibs had expected. He'd taken the pussy way out and broached the subject at Church, to the entire Club, rather than talking to Clay about it one-on-one, but it hadn't really been necessary. All of his brothers were in favor of him going, promising they could handle things without him for a while. It made Chibs a bit nervous—Clay being so willing to lose a man with so much going down didn't make complete sense—but he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Within a week, Chibs' travel plans were set. On the lookout for a reason to get everybody together, Gemma decided to have a family dinner the night before he left. Everybody was happy to be back around Gemma's table, and dinner stretched long, with much lingering over coffee, liberally laced with whiskey, and dessert. Opie and Lyla's kids were allowed to pile onto Clay and Gemma's bed and watch a movie, Abel slept soundly on the sofa, and Thomas slept in Tara's arms.

"So, how long you gonna be gone?" Juice asked.

"Don't know. Have to see how it goes…" Chibs hadn't yet made return plans, as he wanted to see how things shook out with his girls, as well as how SAMBEL had fared losing their president and sergeant-at-arms. He looked at Clay. "And if you need me here, make a phone call and I'll be on the next plane."

Clay nodded, his teeth gripping his cigar. "It's good you're goin'," he said. "We could use eyes on SAMBEL." In mixed company, Clay didn't go into why he was concerned about SAMBEL's allegiances, but the group all knew—it could be that their Irish brothers didn't appreciate being all but cut out of their gun business.

"I'm sure your daughter is excited to see you," Tara said, trying, as she tended to do lately, to steer the conversation clear from anything that could bring up Club-related tensions.

Chibs smiled. "Aye, doc." Though he tried to hide it, he was so looking forward to seeing Kerrianne again, under less stressful circumstances, that he'd begun to have trouble keeping it to himself.

"She's such a lovely girl," Gemma purred, exhaling smoke from her cigarette and ignoring Tara's glare and protective movement to shield the baby. "Almost grown up already."

Across from Chibs, Tig grinned. "Speaking of teenagers," he said slowly, "who's gonna take first push on that redheaded piece while you're out of the picture?"

Around the table, the men all laughed. Chibs shook his head. Caroline had crossed his mind a few times since Fiona's last call, but only a few. Much as he'd love to take a crack at her, that desire was nothing in comparison to the way he'd always felt about Fi. Before he could think of a smart-ass reply, though, Gemma broke in. "Don't think any of you are gonna have much luck with Sister Caroline," she said. "Took Wayne to his support group this week, and who was at St. Michael's but the redheaded tart, prayin' her rosary." She smiled meanly. "Apparently, she's already got a man—Jesus."

Chibs lifted an eyebrow. "Sweet Caroline is a good Catholic? Never would have guessed that." Feeling content and unable to stop himself from taking a good-natured jab, he looked at Happy. "That might explain it, brother."

Happy smiled back, wolfish, both friendly and threatening. "Makes it worth the challenge is all," he said. "I decide I want at piece of that, no fuckin' Church gonna stop me."

Chibs raised his eyebrows. "Gonna give it another try, then?" He shook his head. "Poor lass won't have me to dry her cryin' eyes after she shuts you down next time."

Happy shrugged non-committally. "Thought about it. Probably not worth the effort."

Gemma rolled her eyes and pushed away from the table. "Two of you are like high school boys in a goddamn locker room. Gonna make a bet now on who can spread baby Caroline's legs first?"

Happy and Chibs looked at one another. In truth, neither of them had been considering a wager, but now that Gemma mentioned it, it wasn't the worst idea. Slowly, Happy nodded. Maybe it shouldn't have bothered him, but Caroline's rejection in the parking lot was still stuck in his craw. "I'll have that uptight gash before you get back," he said. "It'll do her some good."