Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
Brew
Peonies. Is that what it is? Her scent permeates my nostrils in the sweetest of ways.
And why the fuck did she cut her hair?
I sit in the meeting room twitching, just like every Monday when it’s been two days since I saw her last.
I could’ve asked about her weekend, but she already told me anyway.
Mondays are always the same, and I’ve grown to like them.
The best part is waiting for Erica to arrive with her Tupperware container of homemade baked goods.
Her sourdough is out of this world, I’ve never tasted bread like it.
You could say Erica is the mother hen of our workplace.
She’s sunny. Always smiling. No matter what could be going on in her own life, she wears this mask.
I know it because it’s a mask that I also wear well.
In her case, she makes sure everyone is okay before worrying about herself.
That’s how Erica is. I should know — I’ve studied her enough.
It may sound creepy, but when I was on protection duty not so long ago and I had to watch her and Olive, the kid that never shuts up, my eyes were wide open.
One thing is certain; Erica would do anything for her daughter.
She got herself roped up in some bad ass shit that the club had to help with.
Mafia shit. This woman may be ex Mormon or whatever the hell church she escaped from, but she certainly is no pushover.
The thing that gets me with Erica is she’s never in a bad mood. Like, ever.
Like clockwork, she arrives last with a large, square purple Tupperware container and sets it in the middle of the table.
“What do we have there?” Sawyer grins. Stupid bastard always flirts with her, but I’ve told him in no uncertain terms to back off.
For one, there’s a policy in place about staff fraternization — one I made up after I caught him flirting — and the fact that he can fuck off.
I saw her first. Yes, I am that childish and petty, but Erica is a different breed of woman.
She’s not like anybody else. Sawyer isn’t about to go ruining her for all other men, the man himself was trafficked as a teenager, and ever since then he’s been…
different. If anything, he shies away from women and one-night stands, but when it comes to Erica, he’s like a bee to honey.
I can’t blame the dude, she is pretty fucking fantastic.
She’s wearing a blouse tucked into a skirt that sits just above her knees.
Her hair, now shorter, is the color of chestnuts when they’re ready to be eaten.
She wears minimal makeup because she’s naturally pretty, and those green eyes?
Like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. They write poems about eyes like that; the ones that sparkle for no apparent reason.
That’s what amazes me about her. She’s had so much shit thrown at her; escaped a cult where the men involved — one being her now ex-husband — were jailed and running some fucking weird ass operation, dodged around being kidnapped by the mafia when she couldn’t pay back money, reluctantly agreed to come back with the MC when we tracked her down, and she never crumbled. This woman deserves a medal.
“Oatmeal cookies; they’re tasty but also good for you. No added sugar, organic flour, and lots of fiber.”
Sawyer jiggles his eyebrows. “You’ve taken all the fun out of it.”
She gives him a dead-panned look. “If I hadn’t told you about the no added sugar and fiber, you’d be none the wiser. I have other methods to sweeten those cookies.”
He grins wider. “I bet you do.”
Is it just me, or does she blush? Sawyer reaches for the open container, and I kick his chair from under the table. He immediately turns to look at me, giving me an expectant look. Even this asshole, as much as I like him, doesn’t mess with me.
“Ladies first, asswipe.”
Erica’s smile aimed at me shouldn’t make my heart jump, but it practically leaps out of my chest. Why am I such a sucker for her attention?
Even though I barely acknowledge her existence.
It’s a coping mechanism — something we probably have in common without realizing, but I’m not about to broadcast that.
“Sorry.” He looks back at Erica, whose eyes are still on me. “Where are my manners?”
She waves him off. “It’s fine, go for it. I like to make sure my boys are fed and ready for the day ahead, there’s plenty to go around. I know how hungry you all get.”
My boys.
I don’t know why that irks me.
“Your boys are fuckin’ assholes most of the time,” I mutter.
Everyone else tiptoes around the language when Erica is around, because she’s religious and they probably think it’s a courtesy, but I’ve heard her say fuck a couple of times, albeit she was kicking the photocopier at the time.
“Hey, I’m the nice one,” Haze pipes up. “Right, Erica?”
She smiles at him. “Right.”
Immediately, Sawyer chuckles. Usually, it’s only the four of us; all the important people. “Right, you keep tellin’ yourself that, bro.”
Haze and Sawyer hit it off, it’s how Sawyer got a job with us. He’s an excellent hacker by night and can get into any system, and works on surveillance during the day. Handy when Jett and Rock; the twins from the MC who have their own surveillance operations, are busy.
They both grab a handful of the delicious-looking cookies.
Erica meets my eye. “Watching your weight, big guy?” She’s always called me Big Guy, and it isn’t because I’m fat.
I’m six-four, and I’m built. She could also be referring to what’s between my legs, but she wouldn’t know anything about that. Lucky for her.
I let my mind wander as I reach for a cookie… What would it be like to bed Erica?
I sincerely doubt she’s a freak between the sheets, not with her strict religious background, but it makes my cock twitch.
“Yeah, those love handles are lookin’ a little on the pudgy side.” Haze beams at me. He’s been teasing me about Erica for as long as I can remember. Haze is the only one who knows me well enough to get away with it. Little brothers can be so tiresome.
“Love handles?” I deadpan.
“Speakin’ of which, haven’t seen you around the club lately,” Sawyer goes on, talking to me.
Yeah, he’s patched in. With his life experience and dedication to the MC, prospecting at the club wasn’t for very long.
He’s more than proved himself with helping the club on several occasions, the last time was when Stella, our first female member, was kidnapped after our enemies blew the clubhouse up.
Good times.
“Nobody taken your fancy?” Sawyer craps on.
“We really gonna sit here talkin’ about pus— eh, women, with Erica at the table?” I lob my pen at his head, narrowly missing him.
“I’ve learned to switch off,” she tells me helpfully. “Boys will be boys.”
“Maybe Erica could give you some tips?” Haze shrugs. “Since you seem to have lost your magic touch.”
If I could kick him under the table, I would, but he’s too far away. Damn asshole.
“I’m not sure I’m the leading authority on what women want.” Erica smiles. She’s the only one who came to this meeting to actually have a meeting. Her pen and pad in front of her, along with a mug of steaming coffee and a stack of papers.
I bite into the cookie, testing it before I shove the rest in my mouth. Of course, it’s amazing, even though she said something about oats, no sugar and fiber. You’d never guess it was healthy.
“We’re not sure Brew is either.” Sawyer grins. “Those sweet butts at the club keep askin’ for you.”
I don’t have anything else to throw at him, and I know he’s just trying to get a rise out of me and make me look like a chump in front of Erica.
She surprises me by saying; “The sweet butts are still women with hopes and dreams. If men want women to act or be a certain way, they need to stop treating them like pieces of meat and listen with their ears, not their nether regions. In my humble opinion, of course.”
She can’t even say the word dick. Hilarious.
I hide my grin behind my coffee mug as I take a sip.
This is what gets me about her. So prim and proper. It makes me want to fuck her sideways, show her what a piece of meat actually feels like. Who knows, she might even like it.
The room is silent as we all stare at her.
I give Sawyer a chin lift. “Heard what the lady said. The sweet butts aren’t pieces of meat, should stop treatin’ them that way.” I smirk.
Of course, I’m guilty of bedding just about every one of them in the past. That’s changed lately because I’ve been too busy for sex. Hunting down Ridgely and the men who wronged me and mine takes up all of my free time these days. Sex has taken a very big backseat.
“Riiiiight,” Sawyer laughs. “I forgot you’re well-to-do, E. Those chicks could learn a thing or two about dignity from you.”
E. I fucking hate him calling her nicknames.
If I were gonna nickname her, I’d call her Sparky. She’s like a little bird who flits around from one place to the other, lively and energetic. Sunshine.
And I’m fucking staring again.
“Well, I don’t know about dignity, but if men continue to treat women like they’re just objects, then that’s all some of them will amount to. They won’t have any self worth other than pleasing a man. I’m sure they’re not all bimbos deep down,” she goes on.
“With the exception of Cupcake,” Haze interrupts. “She really hasn’t any redeeming qualities, but those implants—”
“I think that’s just proving my point,” Erica interrupts. “Maybe she doesn’t know any better, but that’s still no reason to use women as sex objects.”
“What if they like sex?” Haze challenges. “They know what they’re there for, we don’t make them do anything. Are we to remain with our chastity belts held high just because Cupcake got a pep talk from you?”
“She didn’t get a pep talk,” Erica says. “I was being hypothetical. I’m sure none of you knows the meaning of the word abstaining.”
“Brew definitely doesn’t,” Sawyer chimes. I kick him again under the table, and he yelps.
“This got heavy quick,” I grumble. “It’s still early.”
Sawyer is just too smug for his own liking. “I think Erica has a point, there’s more to a woman than just how she looks.”
Trying to score brownie points is just pathetic. “Are we here to discuss Cupcake’s silicone assets or get on with the meetin’?” I sigh. “Time is wastin’ and I’ve got shit to do.”
“Have another cookie, Grumbles,” Haze tosses at me. “You clearly haven’t had enough coffee.”
Erica clears her throat, ruffling her papers as she glances down.
“I cleared the inbox this morning; we have several new inquiries about security systems, one of them is a commercial business that sells high-quality fishing gear and sporting goods.” She looks up from her printout.
“So I’ve replied back, letting them know we’ll call them this morning to discuss the options. ”
“Sweet,” Sawyer says. “More and more businesses are turning to twenty-four-seven security to protect their assets, which is great for us. I’ll take a look at what might suit the setup and arrange a trip out to the shop. Got Wheels helpin’ out, can bring him along.”
Wheels is one of the prospects in the MC.
They help out where they’re needed, and usually it’s the shittiest of jobs imaginable.
None of them complains, because if they do, their asses will hit the pavement quicker than they can blink.
Stella was promoted quickly because she not only got out of a hostile situation, she shot a man in self defence, and apprehended another.
She’s small but mighty; even I had to eat my words about the first female prospect in the MC.
“Perfect. The rest are general inquiries about what systems we offer, so I’ve directed them to the website and sent them a current price list and catalog so they can have a look at the options,” she goes on. “I’ll follow it up with a call in a couple of days.”
I swear, this place wouldn’t run without her. What did we ever do before?
She was helping out at the school for a few months, but we paid better. Deanna, Cash’s ol’ lady, and some of the other women in the club suggested we needed someone to organize the office, and they weren’t wrong. None of us is very good with paperwork or handling the phone.
“All in a mornin’s work,” Haze muses, reaching for more cookies. “These are so good, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Erica says. “I’m happiest when I’m baking. Speaking of which, there is a fundraiser coming up at the City Hall, and we were asked if we’d be interested in securing the event. The mayor, along with several politicians, will be attending.”
The mayor is Stella’s old man, Cale Callaghan; the ex Detective who is also Cash’s son. Except our prez didn’t know about him being his son until recently.
“I’ll quote that up,” I say. “Could be a good way to drum up some new business.”
“I’ll RSVP and let them know you’ll give their accounts team a call,” Erica says.
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. Hair that was longer on Friday, and while it isn’t super short, I wasn’t lying when I said I preferred it before. Why mess with perfection?
I nod. “Anyone else got anythin’ to add?”
Erica raises her hand. Fucking adorable. “Just a reminder that I have to leave a little earlier today because I’ve got the props for the school play in my van and they need them before three.”
Yes, Erica drives a minivan. Just another strangely adorable thing about her.
We had it checked out mechanically, and it runs well.
The little Suzuki Carry is powder blue and has a good engine, it’ll go forever, but I still think she needs to be driving something a little more sturdy and, well, up to date. It’s old, but she seems to like it.
We’re school pickup friendly, so that’s never an issue if she has to leave. Often, Olive will come here in the afternoons and do her homework until close of business. It’s no issue for us, and it helps Erica out. Olive is a good kid and never causes any ruckus, unlike us when we were her age.
“No problem,” Haze says. “Take all the time you need.”
“Thanks, I stayed up most of the night sewing sequins onto tutus,” she sighs.
“Oh, don’t worry, Brew did something similar,” Sawyer snickers. “Pink is his favorite color.”
I move to stand. “Hilarious. If you worked as fast as you talked, we’d all be retired by now.”
“I’ll keep working on the overdue accounts,” Erica informs us. We never really have to tell her what to do, she just does it. “And I’ll buzz one of you if we have an issue.”
An issue being someone not paying on time. Luckily, most people pay their bills, but one visit from us to those who are tardy usually sorts things out pretty quick.
And so another workday begins, though since hiring Erica, Mondays don’t seem as dismal as they used to be.