Chapter 3
Dixie
I place my empty beer bottle on the bar. I'm kneeling on the stool as I lean over the flat surface to check out Roxy’s shoes.
“Hey! Are those my boots?” I point at them and sway slightly on the stool. I don’t think I had that much to drink, but sometimes Roxy puts shots in our beer just to screw with us.
“These?” She bends her knee, bringing her shoe up and almost touching her butt with it. “I don’t know, maybe? I don’t really pay attention to whose is whose. We live together and we’re all the same size in everything.” She shrugs a shoulder like it doesn’t really matter.
“I hope you don’t feel the same about bras and underwear.” I grimace at the thought.
“Not at all. I like my black and red. You and Oakley can wear all the bright girly colors.” She waves me off as she grabs another beer for Chopper.
“Can you not talk about your bras and thongs with so many men around?” He grunts.
Roxy leans across the bar, erasing the space between them. She makes sure to push her boobs together, giving Chopper a spectacular view in the process. She’s always done it to get better tips, but I think she’s doing it now just to screw with him.
“I could, but where would be the fun in that?”
“One day a man might not take no for an answer, Rox. What are you going to do then?” Chopper shakes his head, concern filling his eyes.
“Well, I’ll take my trusty old bat to his balls.” She flutters her lashes. “Something tells me that would do the trick.”
He mumbles something under his breath before stomping off to his table with his jaw clenched.
“Why do you have to torment the poor man? You know he’s in love with you.”
“Oh, he is not. He just thinks I'm hot and wants to spend one night with me. Most men have a fantasy about sleeping with a redhead with green eyes.” She waves me off. “Chopper isn't in love with me and he never will be. Plus, he knows the rules. We’re off limits.”
“But honestly, what would Dad do if we married someone from the club?” I glance over my shoulder at Storm, surprised to find his attention already focused on me.
“Storm won't go against Dad, Dixie. It doesn’t matter how much he wants to, you have no chance with him,” her voice is soft and quiet, so much different from her normally loud and tough personality.
“I know that, but my heart doesn’t care.” I stick out my bottom lip in a pout.
We’re quiet for a few minutes, both of us lost in thought. I'm sure Roxy’s thinking about Chopper and I'm thinking about how Storm will never be mine.
“Any chance you want to go out? I want to have fun and I'm tired of being here today.” Roxy breaks the silence as she scowls at a table of rowdy men.
“After you close? Everything will be shut down by then.”
“I’m giving them thirty more minutes, then I'm closing this place down. I need to get away from Chopper and just let my hair down.”
I glance at her curly red hair. She has it twisted into a bun on the top of her head and there are small tendrils hanging down in her face.
Roxy’s breathtaking. Her bright green eyes are always outlined in dark eyeliner and black mascara. I'm not sure I ever see her without it. She typically has on a tight tank top and skinny jeans. She looks every part the biker princess and she always has.
Oakley could go either way. She’s normally wearing jeans, but she tends to wear long sleeve shirts.
She’s always cold and she has a tattoo she doesn’t love on her forearm.
I think that’s the real reason she wears long sleeves.
Some days she’ll get all dressed up and look cute, the next day she wears whatever is comfortable and doesn’t care how she looks.
I'm the girly one. Even now, I'm wearing a sundress with strappy heels. My hair is always down – unless I'm cooking – and in soft waves. Not because I curl my blonde locks, but because I have natural waves and I love them. I always have on light eye makeup, but nothing else.
When we were little, I remember Mom telling us the prettiest women only wear eye makeup. She told us if we caked foundation, blush, and everything else on our skin would age faster. I think all three of us took that to heart and we still only wear a little makeup.
“Dixie, you’re wearing a dress,” a deep voice rumbles in my ear as a warm body presses up against my back and lifts me into the air, placing my butt on the stool so it’s not in the air anymore.
I blink up at Storm, finding something lurking in those gray eyes. He hides it before I can figure out what it is.
“You boys are always ruining our fun,” Roxy pouts.
“Please,” he scoffs. “The last thing you want is the attention from the guys in here. Do you really want to be another notch on their bedpost?”
“Wow, and here I thought one of you could be my prince charming,” Roxy deadpans. “Where, oh, where will I find him now?” She dramatically places the back of her hand on her forehead like she’s a damsel in distress.
“You won't get attention from the man you want with your butt in the air, Little Fox,” he growls. His chest is still against my back and I can feel it rumble.
My cheeks heat at the nickname. Storm’s always called me Little Fox and I never knew why. I’ve asked him several times, but he just chuckles and walks away.
“She got your attention. Are you saying she shouldn’t want it?” Roxy places her hands on her hips and arches a brow. She doesn’t take crap from anyone. She doesn’t care if Storm is the VP. She says it like it is and doesn’t care. I wish I could be more like her sometimes.
“She deserves better than me. Honestly, she deserves better than everyone in this place.”
“I'm glad we can agree on something.” Roxy holds his stare for a solid ten seconds before she rings a bell behind the bar and cups her hands around her mouth. “Pay up and get out!”
“C’mon, Roxy! It’s not even eleven o’clock!” One of the guys from the club calls.
“Exactly! I want to go out and I can't do that if you’re all here. You have five minutes or I'm adding it to your tab with interest!”
There are a few murmured comments about her being evil and how this isn't fair, but most of the guys toss cash on the bar before filing out the door. They know better than to argue with Roxy. They know Chopper will stand up for her and they’ll get nowhere.
Where Storm is the VP and next in line after Dad, Chopper is Storm’s right-hand man.
The men look up to him, even with his younger age.
He’s only twenty-four, but he’s made a name for himself in the club, especially with being a third-generation member.
Dad and Chopper’s dad were best friends.
After he died, Dad took Chopper under his wing and taught him everything he needed to know.
I think Dad liked having someone to pass things down to. I think that’s why he loves Storm like a son too. He was blessed with three daughters, or at least that’s what he says, but I think he secretly wanted sons. Someone he could pass this place onto.
“Where are you two going?” Storm is still pressed against me and at this point, I'm getting tired. I lean back against his chest and stare up at him. When I sway slightly to the side, he places his hands on my waist to keep me steady.
“McHugh’s.” Roxy smirks, knowing the guys hate that place.
McHugh’s is more like a dance club and less like Savage. They can't sit around and drink because the place is always packed. They say the guys are idiots and the girls are scared of them, but I think they don’t like it because they can't dance.
“Why do you have to go there?” Storm groans.
“What does it matter to you? No one is asking you to join us.” Her hands are back on her hips and this time she’s glaring at him. “In fact, we’d rather you didn’t come. When you do, none of the guys will dance with us because they’re scared of you.”
“Good, that means I'm doing my job,” Storm growls.
“A job no one hired you for.” I point my finger in the air like I'm making a very important point.
“Exactly! We didn’t hire you!” Roxy perks up at my comment, hoping it will help her argument.
“You know I need to keep you safe, Rox.” Storm’s voice softens. He’s a good guy and I know he isn't trying to ruin our night, but we don’t always need someone watching us.
“Safe and blocking us from guys are very different things.”
“Do you have a particular guy in mind?” Amusement fills Storm’s tone and I don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking.
“Obviously not.” Roxy rolls her eyes.
“Then I believe it’s fairly impossible for me to block them.”
“Whatever. Are you paying your tab or am I tacking on interest?” She arches a brow, daring him to keep going.
“I’ll pay, then I’ll grab my car.” He slaps some cash on the bar and doesn’t let go when Roxy grabs for it. “I’m driving you to McHugh’s”
“Storm,” Roxy groans.
“No, Dixie’s already tipsy and I'm not letting some guy take advantage of her. If you want to go out, I’ll allow it, but I’ll sit and make sure you’re ok. I won't interact with you or anything, unless you need me to.”
“You’re like a big brother, only worse.”
“How am I worse?”
“If I had a brother, I’d love him at least a little. I don’t really love you so you’re all the negatives and none of the positives.”