Chapter 37
“I hear congratulations are in order,” I said to Homer as I walked into Three Kings.
He grunted.
“Seriously?” I demanded.
“Seriously what?”
“You don’t seem at all happy that Jazz is moving in with you.”
“I’m happy.” He pinned me with a stare. “This is my happy face.”
“You look like a prisoner on death row. Why so sullen?”
“He’s not being sullen,” Roman said as he came from the back. “That’s just Homer. That’ll be the same face he makes in his wedding photos. The same expression he wears when Jazz tells him she’s pregnant. We just accept him and move on.”
“Is Virgil here?”
“I’m here.” Virgil appeared from the doorway. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you guys,” I said, setting the box of donuts down onto the counter. “I brought baked goods.”
“You’re quitting, aren’t you?” Virgil said, a frown marring his face.
“What? No.”
“No?” Roman asked. “Then what’s with the bribery box.”
I flipped it open and held the box out. The three of them took donuts and began to chow down. “I’m not quitting, but I do need to ask if it’s feasible for me to go down to four days a week.”
“Sure,” Roman said. The chocolate glaze was gone in three bites. “Got a sour cream in there?”
I held out the box again to him and he dug into it. “Sure? That’s it? That’s not going to be an issue?”
“No, it’s not going to be an issue,” Virgil said. “Besides, what did you think we would’ve said when you needed time off, to you know, have your babies?”
“Yeah, but I’m not even close to my due date. That’s a long time away.”
“Not that long,” Homer muttered. “It’ll be here before you know it.”
“Cozy wanted something part time,” Roman said. “And not early mornings. She’s got no problem picking up the slack. You want to go down to three days? Cool? Two? No worries.”
“You think hiring your girlfriend is a good idea?” Virgil asked him.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Roman said.
“Not yet,” Virgil said. “But she will be.”
“No. She’s gonna be my wife,” Roman said. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Moving slow, I see,” Virgil drawled.
“I’ll move as slow as she wants,” Roman said. “But it won’t be a Jazz and Homer situation. That’s years in the making.”
“Yeah, how Homer didn’t die of blue balls, I’ll never know,” Virgil quipped.
“Stop talking about my balls.” Homer glared, causing his brothers to laugh.
“Mom’s gonna be so happy,” Virgil said. “First Homer starts shacking up with Jazz, and now there’s a woman on the horizon for the golden boy.”
“I’m not the golden boy,” Roman protested.
“Yeah, you are. You’re Mom’s favorite and we all know it,” Virgil said with an easy smile. “He never got in trouble for any of our pranks,” he explained to me. “And she never blamed Homer because he’s Homer. So I always got punished enough for the both of them.”
Roman shoved his younger brother. “Pretty sure Brielle’s the favorite.”
“I was just talking about us boys. Anyway, with you and Homer down for the count, that might give me a little breathing room with Mom. She’s been on me for years about settling down even though she knows I’m not interested.” Virgil shook his head.
The front door opened and a little girl who looked to be about six years old ran inside. She came to a halt, her brown eyes widening. “Are those donuts?”
“Yeah, kid, these are donuts,” Virgil said. “But ah, where’s your mom or dad?”
“I don’t have a dad,” the girl stated.
The door opened again, and a bombshell brunette with curves for days strode inside. She frowned. “Clementine, what did I tell you about running ahead of me?”
“But, Mom,” Clementine whined. “You said we needed help, so I came inside to ask for help. They have donuts.”
The bombshell raised her brows. “Donuts, huh?” She looked up from her daughter. “Sorry about that. Do you mind if I use your phone? My cell battery is crap, and it died on me. I need to call a tow truck.”
“What’s wrong with your car?” Virgil asked, not taking his eyes off the woman.
“The front is smoking,” Clementine said, eyeing the box of donuts with wishful intent.
“Let me take a look,” Virgil said.
“Oh, I don’t want to be any trouble,” the woman said. “Just a phone would be fine.”
“I insist.” Virgil flashed a mega flirty grin. “I’m Virgil.”
“Riley.” Her eyes went to Clementine. “Ah, can Clementine hang out here while we look at my car?”
“Sure thing.” I smiled. “I’ll keep her company.”
“Okay, but what about a donut?” Clementine asked hopefully.
“One donut,” Riley allowed.
Clementine grinned.
“Let’s go take a look at your car,” Virgil said, placing his hand on Riley’s back and guiding her to the front door. It jangled shut behind them.
“Another one bites the dust,” Roman said with a grin.
“What bites the dust?” Clementine asked.
“Never mind,” Roman said. “You like chocolate milk?”
“Are you on your way?” Savage asked.
I climbed into the car. “I’m leaving now.”
“You sure you’ll be able to find the clubhouse okay?”
“Yes. I’ll plug the address into my phone. I should be there in about half an hour.”
“Okay, babe. Drive safe.”
On my way to the clubhouse, I heard a siren behind me. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the blue and red lights of a cop car swirling.
Swallowing my nerves, I pulled over onto the side of the road and rolled down my window. The cop got out of his car and sauntered toward me.
He came to the driver’s side window. I couldn’t see his eyes because he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. “License and registration.”
“Sure thing, Officer,” I said, my heart pattering away in my chest. I leaned over to the glove box and grabbed the registration and then opened my wallet for my ID. I handed him both documents.
While he was examining them, he asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“No, sir. I don’t.”
“You were speeding.”
“I apologize,” I said, attempting to look ashamed. “I was excited. I’m due at the clubhouse and I’m already running late.”
He paused. “Clubhouse?”
“The Tarnished Angels clubhouse,” I clarified.
“You run with the Tarnished Angels?”
“I’m Savage’s Old Lady.”
I instantly felt guilty for pulling the Old Lady card, but I really didn’t want to get a ticket, and I remembered what Savage had told me about the police in Waco.
The cop handed me back my license and registration. “Look, you weren’t going that fast. I’ll let you off with a warning tonight, but watch your speed, okay?”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Tell Colt Officer Fletcher said hello.”
“I sure will.”
I rolled up my window and waited for the cop to get into his car before slowly getting back on the road.
Savage hadn’t been lying. Mentioning the club’s name had gotten me out of a ticket.
If you can’t beat ’em, join ‘em.
I stopped at the gate of the clubhouse and waited for the two young men in jeans and leather cuts that said Prospects on them to open it for me.
They waved me through, and I turned the car toward the gravel lot. I parked next to a motorcycle and cut the engine.
I was barely out of the car before Savage was standing in front of me.
“Jesus, woman, what took you so damn long?” he demanded, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me in greeting.
When I could catch my breath, I said, “I got stopped by a cop.”
“ What? ”
“Relax.” I pressed a hand to his chest. “I told him I was your Old Lady. He let me go with a warning. You weren’t lying about the club’s influence with law enforcement.”
“We know people,” he agreed. He stepped back and took my hand. “You hungry? The grill’s hot and there are about seven different types of salad. Bean salad, potato salad, coleslaw, fruit salad, and other salads I don’t recognize.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I’m starving. Feed me.”
“Oh, I’ll feed you,” he quipped, leading me toward the clubhouse.
There were two bikers on the porch who I hadn’t met yet.
“Crow,” Savage introduced. “And Acid.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“We’re gonna get Evie some food. Catch you guys later.” Savage ushered me into the clubhouse.
“So that was Acid, your sparring buddy?”
“Yep.”
“He doesn’t look very friendly,” I remarked.
“He’s been through shit.”
“As we all have,” I remarked.
“Yeah.” Savage frowned. “His best friend was a prospect at the same time he was, but he died. It changed him. This life changes you.”
I squeezed his hand in understanding.
“There’s sodas and sparkling water in a cooler outside,” he explained with a roguish smile. “For all the pregnant and non-drinking Old Ladies.”
We walked down a hallway past several closed doors. I was reminded of the first and only time I’d been here. It felt like so long ago, but it really wasn’t.
Savage pushed open the screen door to the backyard. Kids and dogs ran around while women sat in a circle of camp chairs, holding babies and plates of food.
The bikers congregated near the grill and there were at least three tables laden with food and desserts.
The bonfire was already lit, giving off a welcoming heat.
“Come on, let me introduce you to the brothers.”
Duke hugged me immediately and there were no lingering questions in his gaze. I appreciated his demonstrative affection. I lost track by the fourth name, pressing into Savage’s side as I tried to memorize who was who. “This is Colt,” Savage said, gesturing to the man with dark hair. “He’s our club president.”
“Officer Fletcher asked me to tell you hello.”
Colt frowned. “You know Fletch?”
“Not well. We were—ah—recently introduced. When he pulled me over, wanting to give me a ticket.” I blushed and shot Savage a look. “Turns out I was speeding.”
Savage raised his brows. “You? Speeding?”
“That’s what I’m saying. I got excited on my way here.”
“Did you get the ticket?” Colt demanded.
“No. I told him . . .”
“Yeah?” Colt prodded. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him I was Savage’s Old Lady,” I admitted. “He let me go with a warning and told me to tell you he said hi.”
It felt like all the noise of the party had come to a stop and silence descended on the group.
Colt finally broke the spell. He grunted. “We work on cops’ bikes for free and are friends with a few others.”
“Oh?” I frowned in confusion.
“Club owns a motorcycle repair shop.”
“Charlie’s, right?” I asked, looking at Savage.
Savage grinned. “Right.”
“Cops, firefighters, and first responders get their work done free of charge,” Colt elaborated.
“Ah,” I said. “That’s nice of you.”
Colt, Zip—the vice president—and Boxer all laughed.
“Why is that funny?” I demanded.
“Come on,” Savage said, taking my hand. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
He ushered me toward the tables of food and handed me a paper plate.
“Are you going to explain why my comment made them laugh?”
“We don’t do anything because we’re nice . For example, Fletch gets his bike worked on for free and then he doesn’t give you a ticket. See?”
“Ah, so it’s bribery.”
“We like to call it a mutual exchange of benefits,” Savage said with a mock glare.
“Whatever you say.” I looked around the party. “I’m gonna need a diagram to keep everyone straight. Who do those kids belong to?”
“The tall, gangly dark-haired one is Silas. He belongs to Mia and Colt. He’s not their biological kid though, they adopted him.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “And the other two?”
“Cam and Lily.” Savage shoveled a heaping mound of potato salad onto my plate.
“Go on . . .”
“Their parents died not too long ago,” he said, pitching his voice lower and meeting my gaze. “Boxer and Doc became their legal guardians.”
“Both parents?” I whispered.
Savage nodded. “Within a couple of months. I’ll tell you about it later when we’re alone.”
Nodding, I looked back at the kids playing with two dogs and a soccer ball. My hand immediately went to my belly.
“They’re lucky,” I murmured. “To have the club.”
Savage met my gaze. “Lucky. Yeah.”