Cade (Mt. Adams Axemen #1)

CHAPTER ONE

The East Coast, especially New York, might have a lot of great food, but it doesn’t have Jojos. Potato deliciousness, plain and simple. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about them when I got here? Fucker.

~Text from Cade to Zane~

Cade

I sit down on the bench in the locker room, my jeans pulled on but not buttoned.

The shower after practice took longer than normal because I’m pretty fucking sure I had mud…

everywhere. Normally I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about it and just take a quick shower here and take a better one when I got home, but I ain’t going straight home for once.

Zane convinced me to go to a cookout his friends are having. It’s a drive, but he swears the home cooking alone is enough to make the drive more than worth it. Carter’s been before and hasn't shut up about the food.

I have to admit, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a good home-cooked meal.

That reminds me to plan a trip home soon so Mom can cook like she keeps telling me she will.

Mom and Dad come out a couple of times each season, and with it being my second season on the Axemen, they’ll probably make it out twice.

When I was playing in Queens, they came to almost every home game since it was just a few hours’ train ride away.

I know my moving to the West Coast was an adjustment, but getting more playing time and having a real chance at the national team has made it worth it.

Not to mention getting out of that stifling contract and the ownership that comes with it.

And well, let’s just say the Axemens’ owner may not be someone I’m on a first-name basis with, but I know he’s not up to illegal shit and isn’t getting his team involved in that shit either.

“Evanich…Cade. Get your ass dressed so we can go. If we don’t hurry, the guys will eat all of Ma and Anna’s cooking. We may be teammates, but I would fuck you up if Anna made lasagna and there’s none left when we get there.” I look at the man who’s become a mentor and a good friend.

“It better be some amazing food to be stuck in a vehicle with you driving for that long. I’m putting my life in your hands, and that’s scary as fuck.”

The door to the locker room opens, and I’m instantly glad I’m almost dressed.

I hurry to put on my shirt as Carol and Cindy come in.

Although technically employed by the team to clean and put the catering out for us, among other things, the two of them are really just jersey chasers.

Not successful ones, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try to get with all of us on an almost daily basis.

Carol’s the worst one. She really doesn’t get the word ‘no’ most of the time.

I think Cindy primarily focuses on Carter and Zane.

She and Carter had some sort of drunken interaction at the end of last season, but both are tight-lipped about it, and she’s pretty much ignored him since the season started, still looking for someone to add to her men she pays attention to since Zane tells her no a good chunk of the time.

I quickly put on my boots and grab my stuff, throwing my flannel over my t-shirt.

Let’s get this car ride the fuck over. Zane can do a lot of shit, especially on the pitch, but drive an SUV safely?

Not so much. He seems to think the lines on the road are mere suggestions, driving in two lanes at one time multiple times on a single drive.

Speed limits are also irrelevant—sometimes going ninety-five in a seventy zone, but also when a good song is playing, I’ve seen him do fifty-five in that same seventy zone.

If I survive driving up to his hometown, I’m gonna drive our asses back myself.

This lasagna better be fucking out of this world.

We finally pull off the interstate after a drive that seems way longer than the more than two hours it was.

I’m not giving Zane a choice on the way home.

I’m fucking driving. Zane makes a turn down a street that could be the definition of Americana, with older Craftsman homes dotting the street and large trees shading it.

“There’s an MC clubhouse near this neighborhood? The residents don’t get pissed off?” I ask.

Zane straight-up laughs at me. “Dude. This club ain’t like that.

” I glare over at him as he continues. “This ain’t no Sons of Anarchy, or a one-percenter club.

This club is about family. The guys all have regular jobs and, hell, one of their prospects is a retired cop.

The one about to start? He’s just getting out of the military.

I’m tellin’ you they’re on the legal side of shit.

” I glare over at him because I’m not sure if he’s shooting straight with me or piling on a heaping load of horseshit.

Zane makes another turn and glances my way.

He gets a serious look. “I know what you dealt with back in New York with a shitty owner. I’m not gonna lie to you about where we’re going.

I ain’t gonna associate myself with something illegal either.

I may not have another chance at playing for the national team, but coaching somewhere when I’m done playing would be a fucking excellent career, and I’m not gonna fuck things up.

These people are family, and they’re decent people.

I grew up with half the guys, and their parents are pretty fucking awesome. You’ll see.”

He’s got me feeling a little better as he makes a final turn into a parking lot.

As he parks, I see people outside sitting at tables and a bunch of kids running around.

Okay, so it doesn’t look like that television show so far, but what I know about motorcycle clubs all comes from it, so I don’t really have anything else to go on.

We get out of Zane’s SUV, and I follow him toward the crowd of people.

A guy looks up and sees us approaching. “Holy shit, they’re multiplying.

” A few other people turn our direction, and a man, almost as tall as Zane, stands up and walks to us.

“You bringing the team one by one or something, Prospect?”

Zane walks up, shakes his hand, and gives him a one-armed hug. “Somethin’ like that. This is Cade, and he’s a long fucking way from home. I thought some of Ma, Anna, and Romona’s home cooking could do him a heap of good.”

He sticks his hand out and I shake it. “Welcome. Name’s Jon.

I’m the president, and I’ve known this fucker for more years than either of us would like to admit.

Grab some food and enjoy yourself. Save some room for dessert because my woman, Jane, made a heap of cookies and cupcakes today and she’s gonna insist you have some. ”

Another man, nearly as tall, comes up and shakes my hand and gives a chin lift to Zane. “Mom made plenty of her lasagna. Hell, I think she made a tray just for you two since she knew you were coming. Name’s Asher. You better get some before this lot goes in for a second round.”

I follow Zane toward the building. “They set up the food inside unless they’re grilling.

Be forewarned, some of the moms are serious huggers.

” Sounds like Mom, which reminds me I need to call her soon.

I just nod and follow him inside. Once we’re inside, I look around and see not just a couple of women but at least a dozen, some who look like they’re around my parents’ age and some closer to mine.

I look at the women sitting around, and a woman walks in from another room.

I’m pretty sure the world stops. She’s gorgeous.

She’s got a smile on her that lights up the room.

I need to know who she is. But my voice seems to have disappeared.

Another woman comes into the room behind her, looking similar but older. Maybe her mom? She looks over and smiles. “Zane! Heard you were coming and bringing someone. Come on over, introduce us, and get you some food. I know you’ve got to be hungry.”

Zane gets a big grin on his face and hurries over to get a hug.

Once he hugs her, he looks over to me. “This here is Anna, and she makes the best fucking lasagna ever. I know you’re from the East Coast and lived in New York where there’s a mess of fucking Italians, but this shit beats that any day. ”

Anna rolls her eyes at Zane and gives me a smile. “I don’t know about all that. It ain’t traditional, but it will fill you up. I hear it’s been a while since you had a home-cooked meal.” I smile and nod.

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t get home to see my folks that often, so it’s been quite a few months since I had some real home-cooked food. Thank you for lettin’ me come partake.” Anna pats my arm.

“Oh, he’s got manners too! Now I know you got a good mom at home.

Go on and fill up your plate. What do you two want to drink?

I’m guessing since it’s during the season, a beer is probably a no-go.

” We both say water, and she nods and ushers us into the kitchen.

“I’ll have Hanna grab you each a bottle and meet you outside with them. ”

Hanna. Is that the name of the beauty I saw just a minute ago?

If it is, I want to hurry and get outside to meet her.

I pile my plate up with lasagna, salad, and garlic bread.

Everything smells fucking amazing. Zane has two plates, both piled high.

The man can fucking eat, but even for him that’s a lot.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll work out extra tomorrow, but I’m gonna fucking devour this food.

It’s one of the things I missed most about not living near here.

I love my mom, but she can’t cook for shit.

I grew up on this.” I just nod because I know if I was offered some of my mom’s homemade macaroni and cheese, I wouldn’t be sharing a fucking bite of it and would eat the whole dish myself.