Chapter Three #3
“Got it.” I followed her instructions as we continued to discuss my infatuation with Ryatt. “I like him, and I like that he’s my kind of people.” I opened the oven door.
“Wait,” she said as she flipped Rosie to her left boob. “You need to crumble potato chips on it first.”
“Really?”
She smiled and nodded. “A lot of chips. Romeo likes it salty and crunchy on top.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard.” I smirked. “Everyone knows you’re his favorite snack.”
“Everyone in the MC has heard what you like. The guys hanging out at the oil drum could hear.” She shifted the baby.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if people driving by the MC in their cars could hear.
But I’ve seen Cruz’s dick pic in Dozer’s phone.
I’d be screaming, too. It’s a good thing he already has his road name, or Dozer would have given him the name Mobi. ”
“Oh my god. Cruz would kill me.” Once I’d covered the casserole in chips and put it in the oven, I washed my hands.
“I’m such a slut for him.” I sat at the table next to her and let out a heavy sigh.
If they heard us fucking, they heard us fighting, too.
“It’s why it hurt so much when he was with other girls. ”
There was no use trying to pretend there weren’t issues in the past. We hadn’t exactly been discreet in our fights nor, apparently, in our make-ups. Not that I was particularly proud of my behavior, but he made me crazy.
Levi put Rosie on her shoulder and gently burped her.
“You wouldn’t know it now, but Romeo was a lot like Cruz.
The closest thing he had to a relationship was with Kiss.
It sucked to see them together, but I know he’s loyal now.
I don’t worry about him at the club. He’s best friends with Jazzy.
Before we got together, he was sharing Pippa with Dozer. ”
A coil of unease wormed through my belly.
Cruz had a colorful sexual history. Sometimes, I wondered when he had slept with others, especially when he slept with guys, if it was because one partner wasn’t enough.
Did he miss having a wild sex life now that he just had me?
“Does Romeo still want threesomes with other guys?”
Levi laughed, startling Rosie. “No, he’s changed.” She kissed Rosie’s head. “And not just because of her. Sometimes it takes losing everything to realize what’s most important.”
The roar of motorcycles sounded from the driveway.
“Your daddy’s home,” she sweetly said to Rosie.
“I’ll check the casserole. How do you tell if it’s done?”
“It’s hot.”
I furrowed my brows. “It was hot when I put it in the oven.”
“Well, if the top is brown and bubbly then it’s probably done.”
A moment later, the front door opened, and laughter followed Romeo into the house. Ryatt’s laughter.
Romeo stepped into the kitchen. “Smells good.”
Ryatt hung back at the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room. He leaned against the wall, with his hands in his pockets, and stared at me.
Romeo strode past me and went straight to Levi, kissed her, then carefully reached for the baby.
“She needs a diaper change.” Levi shifted to stand.
“I’ll take care of her.” He took Rosie from her arms. “You’ve been on mommy duty all morning.” He headed for the hallway. “Sit down,” he said to Ryatt. “I’ll be right back.”
Ryatt dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, but his gaze never left me as I squatted down and peered into the oven again.
“I just assembled the casserole,” I said, pulling it out of the oven and setting it on the stove. “I can’t be held solely responsible for the success or failure of your lunch.”
“Better than the peanut butter and jelly I’d have at home.” Ryatt was sleepy sexy, and his smile hinted at mischief.
Levi joined me and grabbed a serving spoon from the drawer. “It should cook longer, but I know Romeo is hungry.” She grabbed the Tapatío from the fridge.
“Now, you’re talking my love language,” I said. “Where are the bowls?”
Levi pointed to the cupboard. I grabbed four bowls and set them on the counter. Romeo returned and settled Rosie in her baby swing in the corner.
“I’m starving,” Romeo said, curling around Levi and sliding a kiss along her neck.
The small kitchen area was crowded with the four of us clamoring for bowls and forks. I took a step back but then bumped into Ryatt. “Sorry,” I said and smiled at him.
Levi giggled and ducked out from under Romeo’s arm. “Serve yourselves.”
Two minutes later, we all sat at the table. Rosie chewed on her fingers and drool glistened on her petite chin. Romeo and I smothered our tuna casserole in hot sauce.
“Did you get the bike fixed?” Levi asked.
Romeo cracked open a can of soda. “Not yet. Ryatt’s on the Honda from the showroom. We’ll head back over after lunch to finish up.”
“I thought I’d burned out the clutch,” Ryatt said. “But there are other issues.” He glanced at Romeo. “I’d be totally fucked without your help.”
Romeo shoveled another forkful of casserole into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “No worries. We’ll get the quickshifter and electronic traction control running smooth, plus all the track day maintenance.” He pointed at me with his fork. “He needs a fast bike to beat you on the track.”
“Never happen,” I said, feeling confident.
“This girl likes to bet,” Romeo said to Ryatt.
Ryatt shrugged. “It would be a stupid bet if you’re assuming I can beat her on the track.”
“Smart boy,” I said, and he smiled.
Ryatt ate slowly, as if he savored every bite of his food. I’d noticed the same thing when we’d gone out for tacos. I’d scarfed down my meal the same way I rode my bike, fast and fearlessly. And tuna casserole drenched in spice probably should’ve had me hitting the brakes.
Levi snorted. “You don’t want to bet with her. Everyone in the MC is poorer because of her.”
Ryatt shrugged, accepting his limitations. “She rides a thirty-thousand-dollar bike built for speed.”
Romeo grunted. “And Cruz has her parking it behind the church.”
I pointed my fork at Romeo. “Only because Hellers are assholes when it comes to their Harleys.”
Levi nodded in agreement.
“Although, on a street race, I’d kick her ass.” Ryatt smiled around a bite of casserole.
“In your dreams,” I said.
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say you haven’t been there, too, but you weren’t on a bike.” His lips twitched with another smile. “And we weren’t racing.”
The table grew quiet, and my tummy tumbled while my mind careened into wild, reckless thoughts. Thoughts that would only have my heart twisting and my emotions wrecked. He dreamed about me?
“The weirdest dream had Kiss running the NA meeting,” he continued. “The dream was fucked up. Instead of speaking to the group, like a guest speaker would, she called out bingo numbers, and you were mad because Georgia kept eating your snickerdoodle markers.”
“I’m pretty sure that was a nightmare.” I covered my mouth as I laughed, grateful he hadn’t made whatever this was awkward with sexual innuendo. “Psychological warfare. She’s possessive over the cookie table.”
“Extremely. I never eat the snickerdoodles because I know she loves them.” His gaze lingered on me. “No matter how much I liked snickerdoodles, I wouldn’t try to take something that belonged to someone else.”
Romeo pushed away from the table. “We need to head back to the shop.” He leaned over Rosie and kissed her cheek.
When Ryatt stood, I did, too. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “I was going to text you tomorrow. Nitro is having another track day this Saturday. We start early with setup.” I tucked my fingers into my back pockets. “We could meet somewhere and ride out to the track together.”
“Sounds good.” His gaze shifted to Romeo.
With his fingers in Levi’s hair, Romeo plundered her mouth.
We stepped out of the room to give them privacy.
“I’m glad Mike, uh, Romeo, asked me over for lunch,” he said.
“For gourmet tuna casserole.”
“Because I got to see you.”
I wasn’t blind. There was an attraction between us, which was why it was good Cruz promised to be at the track. “Cruz will be with me on Saturday. I mean, for everything. The ride there, volunteering, the cleanup.”
He smiled, and my heart kicked into second gear. “I know you have a boyfriend, and that he’s a Heller. I’ve seen you on the back of his bike. I’m eventually going to get to know him since I’ve reconnected with Romeo. I’m cool, but if my being there makes it weird for you, say the word.”
I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “No. I’m good. About seven. My dad always has bagels and donuts for the early volunteers, so don’t worry about breakfast. He’ll feed you.”
Romeo came up beside me. “Thanks for today,” he said and kissed the side of my head.
I smiled. “I just mixed the ingredients. The recipe was all Levi’s.”
“I wasn’t talking about lunch.”
“Don’t thank me for being here with Levi or for holding Rosie.”
His gaze drifted to the kitchen. “Sundays are our day.”
“Fuck, dude,” Ryatt interrupted. “Then you should’ve told me no. I can figure out my bike.”
Romeo slapped him on the back. “Nah. Levi’s good with it. I’ll make it up to her.” He wagged his brows and pushed Ryatt out the door.
Ryatt spun and took a few steps backwards as he called out to me. “See you Saturday.”
Once Levi put Rosie down for her afternoon nap, I rode home and grabbed a shower. Mom had a roast in the crockpot, and my dad was out in the garage working on his bike.
I didn’t live on a farm, but it was sort of a ranch about ten miles out of town.
Not in the city, but not quite rural. I think my dad could’ve been happy in the city, but my mom, Linda, was a country girl and couldn’t live without her chickens, her horses, and a couple of mean-as-hell goats that incessantly maaed and bleated at her from their pen near the house.
Not only was she an equine veterinarian specializing in rehabilitation, but she boarded dogs.
Generally, the horses were at our property for extended stay-cares.
Dogs were short-term and a pain in the ass.
Working for the family business came with its own set of complications, but I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
“Are you staying for dinner?” my mom asked as I came down the stairs.
“Yep.” I hugged her from behind as she peeled carrots. Most people would throw them in the crockpot with the meat, but the potatoes were already roasting on their own in the oven, and she’d do the carrots the same way.
“You can go see if your dad needs your help in the garage. Will you send in your sister? She’s been his shadow all day.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Dinner won’t be ready for about an hour.”
The massive garage was more of a workshop.
The main floor was divided into two sections.
My mom’s medical equipment and stuff to run the boarding business on one side, and a work area with tools on the other.
But the second level had been converted to a mancave.
Mom had her goat pens, a barn for her horses, and her chicken coops.
Dad had a hundred-and-thirty-inch TV on the wall, two recliners, a loveseat hide-a-bed, a wet bar, and a fridge stocked with beer and Mountain Dew.
And he had his bikes.
Today, he had his old Yamaha TW200 torn apart.
The bike was slow as hell, rode like a tank, and never failed when he needed a bike to get around the ranch.
I’d learned to ride on it. I learned the hard way.
The bike had fat tires, a clutch that I had to stomp into first, and a kick start that kicked back.
“Mom says dinner will be ready in an hour.”
“You home tonight?” He drained the oil into a collection container.
“For dinner, but then I’m going over to the MC to see Cruz.”
“I hate you hanging out over there,” he grumbled but didn’t trash on Cruz.
“You watch too much TV. The Hellers are good guys.” Mostly. I think. At least, they weren’t bringing their troubles into the MC. Well, maybe they were, but my dad didn’t need to know that.
I sat next to my sister on the bench. She flipped through a racing magazine on the counter.
“I’m going to ride a bike like yours,” she said pointing to a picture of a BMW in the magazine.
“And I want you to braid my hair like yours.” She brushed her bangs from her eyes.
Mom said Cecely was a late in life surprise.
More like a miracle that breathed life back into my parents.
Grief nearly tore them apart. She was the magic in our family because I wasn’t the same without my twin brother, either.
But she was a little terror. At almost nine, she was tearing up the property on Cayson’s old 125cc dirt bike. “Cece, Mom wants you to help with dinner.”
She jumped from the stool and ran from the garage. Like me, she wanted to get where she was going, and she wanted to get there fast.
I glanced at my dad. “Cruz is coming to the track Saturday. Be nice to him.”
He heaved a sigh and lifted his gaze to me. “If he shows up, I’ll be nice.”
I closed the magazine and sat next to him on the concrete floor. “Ryatt will be there on Saturday, too.”
“Ryatt?” His thick, grease-stained fingers slipped a nut loose. “Do I know him?”
“No. But he’s a friend of a friend. He rides an R1 and wants to race.”
He growled. “Is that supposed to make me like him?”
“Yep. But you’ll like him because, from what I’ve seen, he’s a good rider. We need good guys at the track.”
“He can’t be worse than the asshole you’re dating now.”
“Dad.”
He waved me off.
“I’m not dating Ryatt.” He wasn’t wrong about Cruz being an asshole. In the dad dictionary of guys not good enough for their daughters, my dad would have a picture of Cruz.
“Where did you meet R1 Ryatt?”
“Through Kiss.”
He straightened and stared hard into my eyes.
“You know, you and your brother used to bring home critters from the woods. They were wild and didn’t make good pets because they belong in the woods.
You found a feral boyfriend and brought him home.
He didn’t stick around, either. You need to quit looking for trouble.
I know two things about Kiss. She runs with Hellers, and she’s had issues with drugs.
Which one is Ryatt? A Heller or a junkie? ”
“He’s not a Heller. And I don’t think he has a drug problem. I think he only goes to meetings because he has court-ordered treatment.”
“Christ, McKelle. I don’t need this shit.”
“Well, I don’t know all the details, yet. I just know he has a probation officer, not a parole officer so it couldn’t have been that bad.”
He shook his head as he recapped the plugs. “You’re killing me, kid.”
“I know.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “But you don’t need to worry. Ryatt is just a friend.”
“I’m your dad. I’m always going to worry.”