Mad Dog's Reluctant Woman

Chapter 1

Mad Dog

“Pops, I need your help.”

Pops’ eyes narrow and I almost back out, but I don’t. I stand my ground against the meddling little shit.

“My help, or the help of the Love Prez?”

I stare him down for a moment, before letting out a slow breath. “I need the Love Prez.”

A shark-like grin graces his face and I know I’ve made a terrible mistake.

“You know you’ll have to listen to my advice right?

” I give him my best stink eye. Not as good as Jules, but back in the day it kept the club on their toes until Marx took over.

“All my advice. You can’t cherry pick shit.

I mean, I didn’t get to Love Prez status by not knowing my shit you know? ”

I want to punch him. Right in his smug face. Instead, I grit my teeth and dip my chin. “Yeah.”

“Well, OK then,” he grins wide before his eyes dart to Laney-May, holding a bouquet in one hand, and my hand in the other. “Hey there, gorgeous girl, what you got there?”

“I be cute and give Miss Willa this,” Laney shoves the flowers at Pops, crushing them into his lame ass chinos.

His eyes turn into little slits as he looks up at me. “Are you planning to use my grandbaby to woo that woman?”

“No, I just happen to be babysitting. My grandbaby.”

Pops’ eyes get even squintier. “Why the fuck would you be babysitting when I’m right here?”

I shrug, knowing that not rising to the bait is going to piss him off more. “Dunno. Maybe they figured you were busy off doing whatever the hell it is you get up to.” I grin.

“Give me my grandbaby, you filthy grandbaby thief. Using her to get pussy-”

“Hey! Willa is a nice lady, you meddling shit! And I can’t help Chewy and Rhodie asked me to mind Laney.” I give her hand a little squeeze, "Isn't that right, babygirl?”

“Yup. I stay with Doggy, I be cute and give Miss Willa this,” she says seriously, holding up the wilting flowers. Damn sweaty toddler hands.

“We’ll see about that,” Pops mumbles, pulling his phone from his highwaisted chinos.

As if on cue Chewy comes waddling into the common room, Rhodie follows close behind bitching about something.

It’s been exhausting watching him try to protect her from every damn thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of my boy, but he knows his woman better than anyone.

If Chewy wants to do something, there ain't no stopping her.

“Why the fuck is he babysitting?” Pops whines.

Rhodie ignores his question, detouring from Chewy to where we’re standing. “Can you please tell your granddaughter that she needs to rest?”

“I dunno kid,” Pops replies, rubbing his chin, “I kinda value my life and all that.”

Rhodie glowers at Sid, stepping closer. “Doctor’s orders. The baby is big." He jabs a finger at his Ol Lady who is trying to drag a stepladder through the common room, “And she is small. The doc is worried there’ll be complications.” Rhodie’s earlier bluster is replaced with a shit ton of concern.

I get it. My boy lost his mother when he was young and she took his heart with her.

I never thought I’d see my boy happy and whole again after that, but then Chewy broke into the compound and he was done.

Stick a fork in him, done. He’d do anything to protect his woman.

Unfortunately his woman is the type that don't need protecting.

“You know, you really should have thought about those logistics before you knocked up my grandbaby -” Rhodie growls and Sid rolls his eyes. “Jeez. Fine.” He throws his hands up. “Chewy! I got something to show you in the Rev Room.”

Chewy drops the step ladder and pivots as soon as the words leave Pops’ mouth. She waddles as fast as her little legs can handle, leaving Rhodie huffing and puffing beside me.

“She’ll be fine, son. You know Chewy. She wouldn’t willingly place herself or that baby in danger.”

Rhodie scoops up Laney-May, blowing a raspberry on her neck before hitting me with a bored look. “She has absolutely no spatial awareness. She’s burnt her belly twice while cooking.”

“Well, shit.”

Rubbing the back of my neck I think fast. Rhodie has never been a laid back type of guy, but I’m worried he’ll give himself a damn ulcer if he doesn't calm down.

“Why do you have flowers, babygirl?” Rhodie asks, looking down at the flowers in Laney’s hand. The fancy bouquet that keeps getting more and more crushed.

“Doggy gived them to me. I be cute. I give them to Miss Willa.”

Oh, that got Rhodie’s mind of his woman quick smart. Now I’m on his shit list as he frowns at me. “Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Are you using my kid to get women?”

“Not women. Woman.”

Rhodie purses his lips, bouncing Laney-May on his hip. He glances at me a couple of times and it’s making me downright squirrely.

“Spit it out, son.”

“Nothing.” He side eyes me. “I thought you two hit it off?”

I sigh, moving to take a seat on the porch.

I park my ass, and rest one booted foot on the porch railing.

“I did too, son. But shit. We were having fun, then all hell broke loose. She’s shooting men, I got her on the back of my bike then we’re hiding out on a prepper farm hours away from home.

” I tip my head back, rolling out my shoulders.

“You didn’t make the most of your forced proximity,” Rider says, pointing his half eaten popsicle in my direction.

“Where the hell did you just come from? And why the hell aren’t you minding your own business?” I grumble.

Rider holds up a thick finger, “You don’t need to know where I’ve come from, and two, I never mind my own business.” He gives me a shit eating grin and I narrow my eyes in return.

I’ve known Rider since Rhodie befriended him in Pre-K. He’s always been a nosey, sneaky little shit. I also know that the nosey, sneaky little shit has been making mysterious visits to the retirement home in town.

“You sure you don’t wanna share where you’ve been?”

He narrows his eyes at me, slowly taking a bite of his raspberry popsicle. We hold the staredown, Rhodie narrating to Laney why Uncle Ri and Doggy are making poop faces at each other.

“I don’t like you sometimes,” Rider says, shoving the rest of his popsicle in his mouth and wandering off. Probably to annoy some other brother.

“He’s keeping secrets,” I murmur, Rhodie dipping his chin.

“Yup. But we all know Rider. Whoever she is will show up sooner or later.”

“Let’s hope she’s a good one, and not like the other girls he’s brought round.”

Rhodie shudders, his heavy hand landing on my shoulder, “I would love to say it won’t be that bad, but, well, it’s Rider.” Rhodie says, patting me. “If it makes you feel any better, I like Willa for you, Dad. You deserve to find someone.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He unfurls Laney’s grip on the flowers, handing me the crushed, saggy bouquet. “But do your own dirty work, old man.”

I laugh, smacking a kiss on Laney’s little chubby fingers. “Thanks for helping, baby girl.”

“I be cute?”

“Always, sweetheart.”

She beams at me, and at least I know that I’ve made one little lady happy. Now to make one sassy, kick ass lady happy.

Willa

“What the hell is he doing?” I mumble to myself as I peer through the side of my curtain.

Am I in my own home, peeking out the window at the deliciously handsome biker I let into my bed on more than one occasion?

Yes. Yes I am. Is it nuts? Yes, yes it is.

I’ll blame it on hormones or something later.

For now, I’ll continue to pretend I’m not home all while watching Mad Dog smooth his salt and pepper hair and beard.

And try to discreetly sniff his pits. And I know he won’t smell bad.

Oh no, that man smells expensive. Like masculine cologne with a hint of spice and leather.

And now my down belows have woken up and I need them to go back to sleep and not get involved.

My vagina has the survival instincts of a drunk raccoon.

My heart isn't much better. But the two of them together?

Well, that is the reason I live in Rose Grove, hiding out from a man who stole my best years.

“What are we doing?” Joy’s voice whispers in my ear and I almost shit my gypsy skirt.

I also let out a little screech which has Mad Dog banging on my door. “Willa! Will?! That’s it, I’m coming in baby!”

“No!” I screech at the same time a giant boot kicks my door in, the door slamming open.

“Willa! Willa?” Mad Dog freezes in the entrance, gaze bouncing between me and Joy.

“Um, well, I’m just gonna…go.” Joy slowly stares between me and Mad Dog before scurrying out the back door.

“Did she just snort?” Mad Dog asks, his gaze on Joy before bouncing back to me, hands hooked on his hips. “So, I’m guessing you’re OK?”

I blink at him, my jaw opening and closing and yet nothing is coming out. I have no words. Or I have too many. I can't quite decide.

“Oh, ah these are for you.” His big hand shoves a bunch of wilted flowers my way.

“Mad Dog?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Congratulations.”

His brows pull low over his dark eyes. “For what?”

“For finding out you could kick my door in.”

He has the good grace to look apologetic. “Ah, yeah,” his gaze bounces around my home. “Look, I ah, I may have over reacted a little.”

“A little?” We both stare at where my door is not only open, but where the door handle has embedded itself into the drywall behind it.

“Ah, shit. I’ll fix that. Lemme just call the prospe-,” he pulls up short, gaze snapping to mine before shaking his head to himself. “Sorry babe, I’ll sort it. When is a, ah, good time to come back and fix it?” His large hand rubs at the back of his neck.

The tension that was rising starts to ease.

I don’t trust a lot of people. Not even the DRMC and I spent days with them hiding out at the Manning farm.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re good people.

It’s just I’ve learned the hard way that no matter how much I trust a person, they always have the ability to do me wrong.

I prefer to keep my circle small. Which means I don’t need prospects coming in and out of my home fixing my door.

It’s dangerous enough having Mad Dog do it. For entirely different reasons.

“Tomorrow,” the words spill out of my mouth before I even have the time to think about them properly. “I finish work early on Thursdays. So, I’ll be able to let you in.” My eyes drift to the broken door. “Or maybe you’ll just let yourself in.”

His jaw tightens a little and he runs a hand down his beard. “I’ll get the door done today. The wall I’ll take care of tomorrow. I ain’t leaving you unsafe, babe.”

“I’ve managed on my own this long,” I snap before I can hold back. It’s a problem of mine. Spouting shit before my brain has had time to process. It’s gotten me into a world of trouble. You’d think I would have learned by now.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t. Still need to fix my fuck ups.” He gives me a crooked smile.

The same one that hooked me in the first place and I try to resist even while my brain and vagina points out that it wouldn't take much to hitch my skirt up and ride this man seven ways to Sunday.

“Ah, want me to put these in water?” he asks, arching his brow, shaking the limp flowers in his hand.

“Oh, I’ll do that. You do,” my gaze settles on my poor, forlorn door. The one I painted bright yellow not long after moving in. It took me three coats and two trips to Lowes to get it done, but it was totally worth it. “You do whatever you need to to fix my door.”

I take the flowers from him, making sure our hands don’t brush and walk with purpose to my kitchen to find a vase.

Squatting low, I wonder why the hell I put my vases in the annoying little corner cupboard.

My knees groan a little and I make a half assed promise to myself that I’ll go back to yoga tomorrow.

That’ll keep my knees in good health and me as far from Mad Dog as possible.

With that amazing plan secured in my brain I move to the sink, blasting the faucet to fill my floral vase.

Mad Dog is in the other room muttering to himself and I find my lips tipping up without me telling them to.

The traitors. They can join the other parts of my body that seem to be having a reaction to the biker in my home.

I need to get this under control. I made a promise to myself that I would never let another man, let alone another biker take over my life, and I meant it.

Mad Dog may mean well and make my body sing, but my mind is made up.

I’m living my best life, in my cute little house with a job I love and friends to spend time with. That’s enough for me.