CHAPTER TWELVE #2
We hustle through washing up, the water does start turning cold just as we shut it off, and we’re out and dressed not before long.
Just as I finish tying my second boot, she walks out of the closet with another black envelope. This one with two pink heart stickers on it.
“What’s this?” I ask as she hands it over.
“Step two of your birthday surprise.”
I reach out and pull her to stand between my feet as I sit on the end of the bed. “How many are there?”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” she replies with a simple shrug.
Setting the envelope down, I clasp my fingers behind her back. “Can’t you just tell me now?”
“Nope.” She shakes her head as she smooths my beard down with her fingers, combing through the strands even though I already did it with an actual comb.
“What? Is this like a scavenger hunt?” I nod my head toward the envelope.
“Maybe.”
“And where is Krew?”
“Not here.”
“You really aren’t going to tell me anything?” She is being a stubborn brat right now, only giving short answers and no clues as to what the hell she has planned for me.
“Nope.” Duchess pushes on my shoulders and I lose my hold on her as she steps too far away. “Oh, and you can’t open that until I’m gone.”
“Where are you going?”
She mimes zipping her lips.
“But it’s my birthday.” I stand and rest my hands on my hips. “Shouldn’t I get whatever I want?”
“Whiskey, you’re not five. That’s not how this works.”
I try to give her the half pouty look that usually works in getting her to do what I want, usually something sex related, but it’s not working.
“Fine.” I playfully shoo her away and pick up the envelope. “Go leave me then. I need to get started.”
“I’ll see you at the end.” She rushes at me, kisses my cheek, and is gone in a flash, the bedroom door closing behind her.
Not knowing what I’m going to find inside, I decide to sit back down and open the envelope.
Inside are two pieces of paper. One is folded in half, the other a card just like the one in the first envelope.
The paper folded in half has ‘read me first’ written on it, so I set the smaller card aside and flip the first one over. It is her slanted handwriting again.
Whiskey,
Happy Birthday to my love!
Can you believe that this is our 3rd Valentine’s Day together? Where has the time gone?
I can’t wait to celebrate this day with you for many, many more years to come.
This scavenger hunt will take you on a journey of places that mean a lot to us. I hope it brings back lots of good memories.
See you soon!
Love, Kiana
P.S. Solve the riddle to figure out where to go next.
Each riddle will lead you to the next envelope until you find me.
I flip over the white card, and typed in a bold font is a two line riddle.
I’m packed really full of boxes and cans.
I may even hold a broom, a mop, and a dustpan.
What place that has boxes and cans and dustpans is meaningful to us? Our kitchen? No, that feels like it would be too obvious.
The pantry in the clubhouse!
The memory of the first time Duchess and I explored each other . . . intimately . . . floods back. We didn’t have sex that day, but it was the first time she saw my cock piercing and gave it one hell of a hello with her tongue.
Not bothering with a coat, because I will be going right inside again, I slide my cut on, drop my phone in the inner pocket, and off I go.
Once I’m off our porch, I jog toward the back doors furthest from our cabin, but closest where the pantry is. I push the swinging kitchen door open and am met by my sister, Sunshine, and her six year old daughter, Opal.
“Hey, ladies,” I say with a wave.
“Hi, Uncle Whiskey.” Opal waves as she shuts the fridge, holding a bottle of water. “Whatchya doin’?”
“I’m on a treasure hunt!” I hold up the bundle of papers in my hand.
“Cool! Happy birthday!” she exclaims. “Bye!” And she’s off.
Sunshine leans against the counter, her arms folded. She looks like she’s about to burst out laughing but is stopping it with just an extra big smile on her face. She actually looks like she’s keeping a secret of her own. “A treasure hunt, huh?”
“My woman is apparently making me hunt for my birthday present.”
I head toward the pantry as she calls out, “Love you, big brother. Happy birthday!”
“Love you too, sis!” I holler back.
The pantry door swings open and shut as I walk through it. And right there straight ahead is another black envelope, this one with three heart stickers, propped up against a big can of green beans. I open it up, pull out the white card, and read my next clue.
I never get angry, but I do get hot.
It’s the perfect place for a pan or a pot.
Hot . . . Pans . . . Pots . . . The oven and stove!
I don’t remember seeing anything on the stove when I was just in there, but I guess I wasn’t really looking for anything either. I was distracted by the girls, then beelined it in here. It’s time to check it out.
Sure enough, sitting right there on the stove top is a large white box I’d recognize anywhere.
Duchess’s cupcakes. And as soon as I flip open the lid, I know exactly what all these flavors are.
Each time a Brother claims a new Old Lady, my Old Lady dedicates a cupcake flavor at her bakery to them.
While there hasn’t been a flavor she’s made that I don’t like, there is one that will always be at the top of my favorites list—the smokey bourbon chocolate cupcake!
I can’t not eat one, right? It is my birthday after all. I grab the one with the biggest piece of salty bacon bark and eat the whole thing in three bites. Damn, it never gets old.
I remember the first time Duchess baked these for the club. This was before she was my Old Lady, right after I moved her into the clubhouse, and before she decided to give everyone their own flavor. What made these special, is she made them because of me.
Spotting the next black envelope tucked under the bottom of the box, I pull it out and see four pink hearts. This must be how she’s keeping the clues in order. I open it up and read my next riddle.
I’m filled with feathers or other soft fluff.
To sleep without me can be quite rough.
Feathers, fluff, and sleeping . . . A pillow!
Does that mean I have to go back to our bedroom? Other than my old room here in the clubhouse, which is now used by another Brother, I don’t sleep anywhere else. Back home I go.
As I walk, I put all the cards back into their specific envelopes, and into the correct order.
Back inside our cabin, I go to where this journey started and find a heavy, black box on my pillow.
It’s an about twenty by twenty square and five or six inches tall.
I try to pick it up but the lid comes off instead.
Inside is a book, maybe a photo album, so I pull it out and flip to the front page.
Holy shit! It’s Duchess—sexy pictures of Duchess!
I flip page after page after page and all I see is my wife and her beautiful skin.
In some pictures she is wearing very see through lace, in others she is wearing absolutely nothing, but the last half dozen pages instantly are my favorite.
My wife, my Old Lady is wearing her Property cut and only her Property cut.
In one she has her back to the camera, my name on her Property patch the camera’s focus, and the outside edges are just a little blurry.
Her face is turned to the side so her profile is visible, and the smile she is giving is the same one I wake up to every morning. God, I love this woman so fucking much.
I don’t know where she had these pictures taken, but whoever the photographer was better have burned the negatives. These need to be locked away for safekeeping so no one but me and my wife will ever see them again. In fact, I’ll do that right now.
I walk right into our closet, open the wall safe I installed just last summer, and set the album inside. Closing the safe, I press the lock button, listen for the beep, then go back to the box for my next envelope.
Five pink hearts.
I have four legs but cannot walk.
A flat top but cannot talk.
I hold pens and papers too,
With a seat that’s just for you.
This one is easy . . . my desk! Man oh, man have we had some fun times in my office.
And on my desk. And on the couch. And on the floor.
A rolodex of sexy memories rolls through my mind as I go back to the clubhouse again.
I wonder why she put these clues in this order?
Was it random? Or is she having me go back and forth on purpose?
I wouldn’t put that past her at all. She’s funny like that sometimes.
But man, do I love her regardless of the hoops she has me jumping through.
Closing the door behind me, I circle around my desk and find just a black envelope with six pink heart stickers. No big gift.
I have a hard shell, but I’m not a nut.
Go find me where you hang your cut.
This could be a couple different places. I have a hook here in my office, but looking at it now, I don’t see an envelope. She must mean hanging it at home. Back to the cabin I go.
There . . . right by the front door, I find a very large brown cardboard square box sitting on the bench below the hooks where we hang our coats and cuts.
I know for a fact this wasn’t there when I left the cabin both times before.
That means, Duchess must have arranged these clues to have me going back and forth on purpose.
The box is fairly big, like it could fit a basketball, but I know that’s not it. I don’t think I have touched a basketball since high school gym class. That was way before Duchess and I met, so that can’t be it.
The box is taped shut, so I grab a utility knife from the junk drawer, slice open the tape, and put the knife back. Opening the flaps, I find a matte black, full face motorcycle helmet.
Huh? In the two-and-a-half years we’ve been together, I think I have worn a helmet a maximum of a dozen times, most of those being on long rides with Duchess.
What is she saying with this gift? Is this for me or her?
Does she want to go on more rides together?
I can definitely make that happen once spring rolls around.
I love riding my Harley when my woman is on the back, her arms and legs wrapped around me.
There is no more powerful feeling than having a handful of throttle powering the Milwaukee muscle that propels us down the road.
Pulling the helmet out, I notice it is the style where you can wear it two different ways—full face with the shield or with the chin front part lifted up so it becomes open faced. It’s a nice helmet, and it looks like it’d fit me, but I am stumped about its meaning.
I guess I’ll have to keep finding clues to find her so I can ask. Envelope number seven is in the bottom of the box.
Go to the spot where your wheels are stored.
Take the helmet with you, I promise you won’t be bored.
This must be the back storage garage where we store our Harleys during the off-season months. I don’t know what Duchess would be doing back there, I don’t think she’s ever been in that building before, but just like every other clue, I need to keeping moving to find out what it means.