5. Crap
5
CRAP
Diana
It was the next morning.
I was dressed, ready for the day, and preparing for dinner that night.
When I’d come out earlier to start coffee, I saw Hugger on his back on my couch (which I’d made up with a sheet on the sofa, another for him to pull over him, a blanket and two extra pillows, and I’d also pulled off the back cushions—still, he engulfed the space).
He had an arm thrown over his eyes. And as far as I could tell, outside his boots being on the floor by the couch, he still had his clothes on from the day before.
Last (something I put right out of my mind the second my eyes landed on it), there was a gun lying close to him on the coffee table.
He didn’t move as I made coffee.
When I came back out, dressed and ready for breakfast, he was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the coffee table and sipping from a mug. His hair was messier than normal. Even his beard seemed messier than normal.
Both were fabulous.
More fabulous, he’d stripped the couch and everything was folded and tucked away on the floor on the far side so you couldn’t see it.
Bikers tidied.
Who knew?
He gave me a sleepy-eyed look (that was even more fabulous, by, like a lot ), got up, and without a word, strolled down the hall to my room.
I made some oatmeal, trying not to think of Hugger in my shower when I heard it go on.
I ate it, failing not to think of Hugger , naked and slippery, in my shower.
I was getting out the Crock -pot when Hugger showed.
I ceased moving entirely when I saw him in a black tee stretched tight across his pecs, faded jeans, his hair wet and combed back from his face, making the handsomeness come out in stark relief.
Topping that, his quickly drying hair curled up at the back of his neck, which added a one-two-knockout punch of cuteness to his handsomeness.
“ Do you want breakfast?” I forced out.
“ Yeah ,” he said, going direct to the coffeepot, and I sure was glad I made a full pot, because it was clear he imbibed his caffeine like I did.
“ I have oatmeal,” I told him. “ I can make you a smoothie. There’s also cereal.”
“ Cereal ,” he said, shoving the pot back in.
“ Cupboard over by the wall,” I replied.
He spooned two sugars into his coffee then wandered over to the cupboard.
He sipped as he opened it.
He then whistled low and added, “ Shee -it.”
I was not confused by this response.
“ I’m a grocery store aficionado,” I informed him.
“ I can see,” he muttered, ignored the Fruity Pebbles , the Cap’n Crunch , the Lucky Charms , the Cocoa Puffs and the Cinnamon Toast Crunch , and homed right in on the Trix .
I approved of this choice.
“ Bowls in the cupboard by the dishwasher,” I said as I set up the Crock -pot.
He went there and I watched as he got down a pasta bowl, not a cereal bowl.
I almost said something, just to give him shit, but decided against it and instead just smiled.
He didn’t need instruction on where to find the milk.
He’d just poured and put the milk back, when he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, looked at it then looked at me.
“ Big Petey’s here. Whatchu gotta do to let him up?”
“ Buzz him in. It’s that console over there.” I tipped my head to the wall. “ Hit the green button, that’ll let him in to the vestibule. Then hit the blue one. It gives him five minutes to call the elevator and will allow him to tag my floor.”
He went and hit the buttons. He returned to his cereal.
I went to the refrigerator to get the chicken breasts.
When the doorbell rang, Hugger moved to answer it.
He came back as I was arranging the breasts in the bottom of the Crock -pot.
I froze for a second time that morning when I laid eyes on Big Petey .
He looked like a biker grandpa, with emphasis on the grandpa .
The good news about this was, it was unlikely Suzette would have any issue spending time with him. Like all the other guys, he was rough around the edges, but the kindness in his eyes was not hidden.
The bad news was, if trouble came calling, I was pretty certain Big Petey wouldn’t be much of an obstacle to it finding its prize.
“ Pete , this is Diana . Diana , Big Petey ,” Hugger said on a series of grunts before he went back to his mug and his bowl.
“ Sorry , I have chicken juice on my hands, just a sec,” I said, dashing to the sink to wash off the juice.
After I got that done, I approached Big Petey with hand raised. “ Nice to meet you.”
“ You too, doll,” he replied, taking my hand, squeezing it firm and friendly, then letting me go.
“ Have you had breakfast? Coffee ?” I asked.
“ Got covered on the way over,” he said.
“ Suzette hasn’t come out yet, but I’ll go in and get her so I can introduce you before Hugger and I leave. I just have to get the Crock -pot sorted, and I’ll do that.”
“ Got nowhere else to be but here, Diana ,” he assured.
I smiled at him, “ Make yourself at home, with everything. Food , drink, TV streaming, whatever.”
“ Thanks , darlin’.”
I returned to the kitchen and got a carton of broth.
I was pouring it over the chicken when Hugger asked, “ What are you doing?”
“ Setting up dinner.”
“ Now ?”
I looked up at him. “ It’s a slow cooker.”
He glanced inside the Crock -pot then back to me. “ What’s for dinner?”
“ Shredded chicken tacos.”
His head twitched to the side. “ We had tacos last night.”
“ And we’re having them again tonight. And if you have an issue with that, suck it up, because we’ll probably have them tomorrow night too.”
“ Tacos are tacos. You can never say no to a taco,” he spoke the gods’ honest truth. Then he veered off the righteous path. “ Unless you have to eat them every night.”
“ Don’t worry. I’ve got a whole repertoire of tacos. You’ve had the beer-battered cod. Tonight , shredded chicken. Then there’s shredded beef. And ground beef. And shrimp. And grilled fish. Also grilled chicken. And then there’s fajita tacos. And steak. And? —”
He put a palm up in front of my face and commanded, “ Stop .”
Not a fan of that palm (though definitely a fan of his big, long-fingered hand— God , someone kill me), I wrinkled my nose at him.
He stared at my nose a good deal like he’d stared at my mouth last night, and his hand went away.
I ignored how much I liked the expression on his face and retorted, “ Don’t be dissing my tacos.”
“ So you’re sayin’ you’re a taco aficionado too.”
“ I’m an aficionado of a lot, and all of it revolves around food.”
His eyes dropped to the vicinity of my hips and he mumbled, “ Approved .”
My clit pulsed.
Hugger put his bowl to his mouth and drank the milk from it.
And God help me, my clit pulsed at that too.
Big Petey cleared his throat.
I turned to see biker grandpa had turned into Biker Grandpa ! because he was grinning hugely at Hugger and me, his eyes were dancing, and the very air around him sparkled with glee.
“ I love tacos,” he announced.
“ Well , good, because there’ll be plenty,” I replied.
On that, Big Petey wandered to the couch. I got on with setting up the Crock -pot. And Hugger , to my shock, rinsed his bowl, spoon and coffee mug and put them in the dishwasher.
Proof .
Bikers tidied.
With nothing else available to delay it, something I wanted to do because I wasn’t sure she was ready for it, and I knew I wasn’t ready to push her on it, but I had no choice (not to mention, I needed to get to work), I told Big Petey , “ I’m going to go get Suzette now.”
“ All right, honey.”
I walked down the hall, knocked softly and was taken aback when the door immediately opened several inches and Suzette appeared.
She was dressed, and this was a thing for her. I’d seen her precisely once wearing pajamas. This when I was in the middle of a TV binge in the living room, it was late, and she’d shuffled to and from the bathroom.
All other times, she was ready to rumble at any given moment, for the most part, even wearing her Chucks .
It hurt my heart, understanding why.
But I understood why (we could just say, after the incident, I’d had no study dates anywhere but in public places, and no man, to this very day, was allowed in my house until after the fifth date, no exceptions (wait, there was one: unrequested biker security services)).
Understanding this, I didn’t say anything about it.
“ Hey . Big Petey is here. I want you to meet him before me and Hugger have to take off.”
“’ Kay ,” she whispered, opened the door and slithered out.
She wasn’t wearing shoes.
Perhaps improvement?
We walked down the hall.
Hugger kept his distance, and I loved he knew to do that.
Big Petey rose from the couch.
On sight of her, a fleeting moment of unadulterated fury swept through his face before he controlled it and smiled at Suzette .
“ Hey , girl,” he greeted.
“ Hey ,” she whispered timidly.
“ I’m Big Petey .”
“ Yeah ,” she mumbled.
“ You have breakfast?” he asked.
“ I’m not super hungry,” she answered, and since she ate two tacos last night, this time, she might actually not be hungry.
“ Maybe not, but we all gotta eat, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Pete returned, then looked at me. “ You got eggs and bacon?”
“ She’s a grocery store aficionado,” Hugger answered for me.
“ Yes ,” I also answered for me.
Big Petey was aiming a massive grin at Hugger . He stopped doing that as he made his way to the kitchen.
“ Come keep me company, darlin’, while I make you some breakfast,” he invited Suzette .
She tentatively edged her way to the kitchen island even as she said, “ I’m really not hungry.”
Pete turned to her, and he did not level Biker Grandpa ! eyes on her.
He leveled Concerned Dad So You Better Listen to Me ! eyes on her and replied, “ You really gotta eat.”
Suzette tentatively moved even closer.
I was seeing this might just work on one level, that being Pete being pushier than I was comfortable with and doing it in a way Suzette apparently responded to.
I still had concerns about his age and his ultimate reason for being here.
Suzette’s protection.
Though , as she watched him familiarize himself with my kitchen, it was clear Suzette didn’t have those same concerns.
“ Babe ,” Hugger called.
Don’t ask me how I knew he was referring to me with that word, except for the fact he was likely not calling to Suzette , and definitely not Big Petey , but I turned my attention to him to see he was indeed referring to me.
“ We goin’ or what?” he asked.
“ Right . We’re going,” I answered. I looked between Big Petey and Suzette . “ You guys good?”
“ We’re golden. Go . See you later for tacos,” Pete replied.
Suzette just nodded to me.
I smiled at them both, went to the dining room, grabbed my tote and headed out with Hugger at my heels.
When we were at the elevator, I reached and tugged at his tee at the side of his abs.
Slowly , his head dropped to look at my fingers on his tee.
I let it go.
Equally slowly, he lifted his head and looked at me.
“ Um …”
I didn’t know how to begin.
I plowed forward anyway.
“ I’m not sure about Big Petey .”
“ What aren’t you sure about?”
“ Um …” I repeated but said no more.
“ Spit it out, Diana ,” he ordered.
“ He’s not young.”
“ Impressed with your powers of perception.”
I squinted irritably at him.
Hugger spoke. “ Stop worrying. He can take care of business. Ink and Driver are out there with Muzzle keepin’ an eye on shit. And we hacked into the complex cameras last night.”
I stopped squinting so I could stare.
The elevator doors opened.
Hugger walked in and automatically, I followed.
He hit the button for the lobby level.
“ You hacked the complex cameras?” I inquired.
“ Resurrection has an ally who can do that kind of shit. This ally’s also got facial recognition software and their hands on pictures of all known associations of Imran Babi? . Any one of his boys, or just anyone they don’t got a good feeling for, strolls anywhere near an elevator lobby, we’ll get a call.”
I was feeling a whole lot better about the scope of biker security services as the doors opened and we walked out.
“ Ink and Driver ?” I asked.
“ More Aces .”
“ How many of you are there?”
“ A lot.”
Definitely feeling a whole lot better.
It was then I realized he was shoving out the door to the main entrance of the complex, and we weren’t on my parking level, as of course we wouldn’t be, because neither of us used a fob.
I stopped. “ My car is down two levels.”
He turned to me, half in and half out of the door. “ We’re taking my bike.”
Oh hell to the no, we were not.
“ I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle in my life.”
Something heated flared in his eyes, but he just said, “ Today’s your day.”
“ It’ll mess up my hair.”
His gaze went in that direction and his voice had a rough edge to it when he replied, “ It absolutely will not.”
“ Wind does that.”
He locked his eyes with mine. “ Trust me.”
My voice was getting shrill because, really, I wasn’t sure about riding on his bike with him on the same bike.
And that wasn’t all about my hair.
“ I’m wearing pumps!”
Yes , nude, patent leather pumps, along with pale pink crop pants and a silky baby-blue crewneck blouse. I was top to toe business casual, not biker babe.
“ I’m gettin’ it,” he declared.
“ Getting what?”
“ Tyra , Lanie . Millie .”
“ What ?”
“ Never got it before, definitely getting it now.”
“ What ? ”
He came in so he wasn’t half out anymore, the door closed behind him, and he didn’t do this in order to explain his words.
He said, “ One , I don’t think I’ll fit in your car.”
I hadn’t thought about this, but now that I was, I saw it was a concern.
“ Two , your car is ridiculous and a deathtrap.”
I hadn’t thought about this either, but now that I was, it pissed me off.
“ It is not!” I snapped.
His brows shot up. “ You against an SUV or a dually, which is mostly what they got in this town, a town where I’ve noticed people pretty much go their own way no matter the widely accepted laws of the road, which are actual laws of the fuckin’ road, you’re toast.”
I’d never thought about this either, and I couldn’t say he was wrong.
Especially about Phoenix drivers.
I’d long since learned to park any inclinations of road rage, seeing as I’d be harboring murderous tendencies on every inch of asphalt I encountered. And that crap took way too much energy.
Now , I just let everyone go their own way. As long as I got home in one piece without feeling the need to sharpen any knives, I was good.
I felt my lips thin because I hated to be wrong.
Annnnnnnd another thing I shared with my dad.
Crap !
“ Three , because of one and two, my ass will never be in that silly piece of metal you call a car,” he concluded.
“ Maybe you can follow me to work,” I bargained.
“ Maybe you can shut it and just get on the back of my bike.”
“ Okay , Hugger , I may be in day three of my blowout, but that doesn’t mean I want it destroyed.”
“ Your what?”
I jabbed a finger at my hair. “ Blowout .”
“ For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
He then said no more.
I said no more.
We went into stare down.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but if I had to guess, it was a full five minutes before he spoke, which meant we were edging toward me being late for work.
Not that my boss would care, she wasn’t even going to be there.
It was the principle of the thing (as Dad had taught me).
“ You ready to go to work?” he asked.
Gah !
“ You’re annoying,” I complained as I forged his way.
He turned and went out the door before me, humming, “ Mm .”
That low, rough hum did a number on my nipples, and in an effort to ignore it, I huffed.
Hugger led me to a shiny bike parked in the visitors’ section.
Crap .