Chapter Five #2
her neck that had a pattern on it that was black and cream with some pink
thrown in. Her hair was up in a messy bunch at the back top of her head, with
tendrils floating down. And she had studs in her ears that were little clusters
of tiny pearls, and other than a watch glinting from under her long sleeve,
that was the only jewelry she wore.
Class. Professionalism. Personality.
Jesus.
Thank fuck Jag and Carolyn blew off picking her up from the
airport.
She’d pulled on a lightweight feminized peacoat and was
grabbing her beat-up, cognac-colored leather backpack.
“Ready,” she said.
He jerked up his chin and looked down at the cat. “We’re outta here. Catch you later.”
He got a buzzing “mwrr” before he
put the cat down.
“Be good, Murtagh,” Georgiana ordered.
Sharing the affront he took at this, Murtagh turned his back
on her and jumped on the couch, not bothering to reply.
Outside the apartment, after she made sure the self-closing
door latched, Dutch took her hand and held it all the way down the hall, while
tagging the button to the elevator, waiting for the elevator, and then in the
elevator.
It wasn’t until then that Georgie spoke.
“You’re a hand-holder.”
He looked down at her, starting to let go, asking, “You’re
not?”
She held tight to his hand before she lost it. “I wasn’t.
Until now.”
He smiled at her.
She smiled back.
They held hands the rest of the way to his truck.
“What’s for lunch?” she asked when he’d pulled out of his
parking space.
“Las Delicas.”
“Excellent,” she muttered.
And she had good taste in food.
“So, I’ve been thinking about Carolyn,” he began.
“Ugh,” she grunted.
“Baby,” he murmured.
“It’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it too. It’s time. High
time.”
“In the past, before this, have you talked to her about it?”
he asked.
“When we met, you said something about how Carolyn had
spoken about me, so you knew about me, and my guess from how you said that,
what she told you about me wasn’t stellar. What do you think?”
“So you’re a pain in her ass because you ride her ass.”
“Dutch, she…God.”
She was struggling, she didn’t hide it, but instead of
pushing it, he gave her time.
It was the right call, because she didn’t take much of it
before she said, her voice pained, “Essentially, she’s whoring herself for
material items and dope.”
Essentially, she was correct.
Dutch kept his mouth shut.
“Mother thinks it’s a phase.”
Dutch said nothing.
“Mother is wrong.”
Dutch had a question about that. “You call your mom
‘Mother?’”
“My mom is a ‘mother.’ Dad’s a dad. Mom’s
worked hard at being Mother.”
“You said your dad wasn’t around—”
“He wasn’t. They split. He traveled for work so there were
reasons he was absent in the beginning. He also found another woman, married
her, they had a kid. Through all of this, Mom put a lot of effort into making
his life hell. So he made the decision that life was too short to deal with
her, and he put great effort into omitting her from it. The side effect of this
was, to do that, he had to omit us. Carolyn and me.”
“The fuck?”
And back was the growl.
“There’s that cute again,” she whispered.
“There is no excuse to pick yourself over your kids. Christ,
your daughters.”
“A son would be different?” she asked curiously.
“Okay, get this, it’s important. I don’t have any kids. I
still know I’m gonna be protective as fuck if I get
girls. Not that I won’t love and protect a boy. But it’s gonna
be stratospheric with a girl. So my advice, file that away, and if you got a
problem with it, get over it.”
“So…crazy…cute.” Again with the whisper.
“Georgie,” he warned.
“Dutch,” she replied, sounding amused.
“Haven’t met the man and already not a big fan of your dad.”
“He paid support. He sent us money, a good deal of it, on
birthdays, Christmas, even Easter and Valentine’s Day, and sometimes we’d get a
card with cash in it just because.”
“Money isn’t love. In this case, and brace, because this is
harsh, it might be about guilt.”
“You’re right, honey, but he wasn’t totally absent. And when
we got older, had some independence and could get away from her, we reached out
and he latched on. He helped me with college, for one. And I told you he
floated me a loan to buy my condo. What I didn’t tell you was, that loan is
being deferred, month to month every time I contact Dad and tell him I’ve got
his check, and he says, ‘What’re you gonna do without
this month if you give me that, sweetheart?’ Then even if I say, ‘Nothing,’ he
still refuses it.”
“Was he there to take pictures of you when you went to your
prom?”
“I skipped my junior prom and went to my senior prom with my
posse of chicks and we wore Doc Martens and combat fatigues in protest to the
patriarchy.”
Dutch busted out laughing.
He kept doing it when she added, “That was my militant
feminist phase. Somewhat literally. At least in terms of garments.”
And he didn’t stop when she went on, “I’m over that now.”
“Those heels are hot, darlin’, that skirt is hotter,” he
told her.
She whacked his arm like she did the first time they were in
his truck, he liked it just as much as he had back then, except this time he
could admit that to himself, and she said, “Shut up, Dutch.”
He grinned at the road, but did it knowing he had to get
them back on track.
Something he did.
“Georgie, Carolyn.”
“Right,” she mumbled.
“What I was thinkin’ is that Jag
doesn’t have to throw you under the bus. Carolyn doesn’t have to know you told
me and I told him.”
He saw her hand coming his way, but even if he did, it
surprised him when she ran it down his jaw before she stretched across the cab
and he felt her kiss his cheek.
She stayed stretched when she said, “You’re unbelievably
sweet.”
“Just lookin’ out for him and tryin’ to do the same for you,” he pointed out.
“Yes, and I appreciate it, but file this away, honey,” she
used his words and kept on, “I don’t do that. It’s a white lie for kind reasons
but it’s still a lie. And I don’t lie.”
That said good things about her and what might become of
them.
But in this instance, it was inconvenient.
“Babe.”
She sat back in her seat and carried on, “What I
was thinking is that whatever we’ve got going is happening with us and
eventually Carolyn is going to know about it. It’s not cool what she’s been
doing and it’s not cool I’ve kept my mouth shut she’s doing it. I’m not going
to make the rounds of her guys and tell on her. I’m also not going to maybe
start a relationship with someone that interests me a whole lot and have her
mess sit there between us. She knows I’m that kind of person so she’s going to
be angry, but she’s not going to be surprised. And the bottom line, maybe she
needs some drama to shake her out of the disaster she’s making of her life. And
losing your brother is going to shake her.”
“Interests you a whole lot?” he teased, did it careful,
because he could tell not only by her words, but by her tone that this shit was
heavy, and he wanted to lighten it for her.
She reached out a hand and squeezed his thigh, but she
didn’t say anything.
Dutch didn’t say anything either, because even though she
removed her hand, he still felt it.
And the touch on his jaw.
The kiss on his cheek.
Her hands curled around his neck earlier in her pad.
Her fingers tightening around his in the elevator.
Hell, just the way she looked at him when she opened her
door.
Years ago, Hound had told Dutch and Jagger to watch their
mother to know what kind of woman to look for to make their own.
And after watching Keely Black grieve for nearly two
decades, at the same time watching his mom and Hound dance around each other,
both feeling deep for the other, neither going there, and now them having what
they had, it wasn’t nauseating, the love they had they did not bother hiding.
His mother was not cuddly and gross.
But she was affectionate and loving and open about it to all
her boys. The ones she made and the one she made hers.
He and Georgiana hadn’t even been out on a date, and she
already communicated with more than words.
Communicated the important stuff.
The deep stuff.
The right stuff.
Georgie couldn’t be any different than his ma.
Keely Black Ironside was biker babe through and through.
But yeah.
Evidence was coming clear Georgiana Traylor had the right
stuff.
Through and through.
“So I’m gonna talk to her
tomorrow,” she said, cutting into his thoughts.
It occurred to him she was in his truck, working Carlyle’s
situation with him, and now was dealing with her sister, and she had a job.
“Is your latest story suffering because of all this?” he
asked.
“Well, uh…” She did not answer.
“Babe,” he grunted.
“Okay, so I am who I am, and once I got my teeth into
Carlyle’s case, and because I, uh…well, watched Blood, Guts and Brotherhood
again and I’d been so awful to you, I kinda got
obsessed and called my editor and asked for some time off.”
Dutch again held his silence.
“I haven’t had a vacation in over a year, and our PTO
accumulates, all the way up to eight weeks, so I have a ton of it. I think she
was actually relieved to give me a couple of weeks off. And she said that I
needed to do this more regularly, or burnout wasn’t a possible, it’d be an
inevitable.”
“You watched that film again?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she answered.
He smiled big at the windshield. “You are so into
me.”
She whacked his arm again with her, “Shut up.”
But he caught her hand this time before she took it away and
held it against his thigh the rest of the way to the restaurant.
Eddie and Hank weren’t there yet, so they got a table,
regrettably. He’d prefer a booth and to have her cornered in it, his thigh
pressed to hers and her close enough to touch. But they needed a table for the
discussion. Better and freer eyelines.
They got chips and salsa, their drinks.
But neither of them even opened a menu.
If you knew LD, you knew what you were going to order at LD.
The end.