Chapter 12 #2
Nodding at my genius plan to avoid my innermost thoughts and feelings I lock my door, set the alarm, pour myself a cup of tea and head up to attack my bush.
I may as well dust off my nail polish too.
If I’m off to a gala, I may as well look my best. For myself of course, not for the hot silver fox whose arm I’ll be on.
Nope, not for him. For me. Because I’m empowered and stuff.
Yup. I hold up my fancy tea cup, looking at my ridiculous reflection in the mirror and give myself a silent toast.
Yahooing and squealing sounds drift through the evening air from next door and before I can peek out the window banging on my back door has me jumping, sloshing red wine down my front.
“Willy Wonka! Open the door!” Mira yells before adding “please” and some other muffled words.
I unset the security alarm, then shuffle in my pedi socks to the back door, throwing it open to a grinning Mira and Joy.
“We’re having a girls night next door to get ready for the gala. Wanna come hang with us?” Joy clasps her hands together and gives me a pleading look.
I look between her and Mira, then at my tea cup, then back to them. I down the contents in one gulp, running my forearm across my lips. “Let’s do this.”
Cheers break out and then some giggling from my bushes when I step out onto the path.
“You head in with the girls, I’ll lock up,” Switch says, stepping into the light.
“Oh I can-”
“The man said he’d take care of it. Come on, we only got a few hours before we need to be tucked up in bed getting our beauty sleep,” Nat says, looping her arm through mine and dragging me in the direction of Joy’s house.
“Well, OK then.”
As soon as we hit the living room all hell breaks loose. There are open bottles of every flavor wine, nail polish everywhere, all sorts of face masks and a pile of dresses.
“Holy crap, what happened in here?” I whisper to myself but Chewy somehow hears every word.
“Apparently this is a ritual. I never went to prom so I wouldn’t know.
” She shrugs one shoulder. Her little boy is latched on and suckling away while Chewy nurses him in one arm, her other hand resting on Chomper.
Laney May is on the floor and Chewy has her foot resting lightly against the sleeping toddler.
Her gaze follows mine before moving to look over my shoulder.
“They’re all my babies and it’s important they all feel connected to me in some way.
It will cause them less trauma as they grow to be premium humans. ”
“Except Chomper,” Ana points out.
“If he dreams to be a premium human, then we should let him chase his dreams,” Chewy says decisively.
“I like your conviction, Chewy,” I say. “It’s an admirable trait.”
“Thank you. It’s probably the autism.”
I shrug. “Or it’s just you.”
Chewy gives me a funny look before sending me a smile. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels huge coming from her.
“Can I give you something?”
“Ah, sure.”
Chewy’s smiles wider and she uses her free feet to kick a baby bag over to me. I give her a puzzled look and she indicates the brown manila folder with chunky handwriting on the front.
“It’s a file with all the main players who will be at the gala tomorrow. Mad Dog did tell you what we’re planning, right?”
I nod, taking out the folder and flicking through the meticulously gathered information. “Yeah. Something about undercover work to figure out how to get rid of that rich asshole Thompson.”
“Bingo,” Lovely says, plopping on the couch.
Jazz takes a seat on the floor at my feet. “Our job is to look pretty so the men can blend in -”
“Which is silly because our men are stupid hot and don’t blend in anywhere,” Vi interrupts.
She’s not wrong. I have no idea what they put in the Rose Grove MC water, but all the men are hot. Like, do a double take type of hot when they ride down the main street.
“As I was saying,” Jazz says, glaring at her sister, “It’s our job to look pretty because the men are too dumb to realize what an asset we are.”
I grin at her, knowing exactly what she means. “We look pretty and then gossip with all the other women to get information?”
“Why Willa, how did you guess?” Kaia says, pretend shock written all over her face.
“Men are such simple creatures.” Pops adds from his position in the recliner. He has pedi socks on too and cucumbers over his eyes.
“Pops is part of the girl gang,” Joy whispers. “So is Mad Dog usually, but he said he had things to do.”
“If he’s taken my advice he’ll be waxing,” Pops mutters.
“Waxing what?” I ask, appalled. Surely the man wouldn’t?
Mad Dog has what has to be the most perfect chest hair I’ve had the pleasure of running my hands through. Not too much, not too little. Silky soft, sits right in all the dips of his muscles, really making them stand out. God I can feel myself drooling at the thought of Mad Dog’s chest.
“Well, at least we all know how Willa feels about Mad Dog,” Blanche snorts.
“Wait, what? Did I say something out loud?” I ask, horrified.
“No need, sweetheart, not when it was written all over your face,” Pops says, his head still laid back, cucumbers still in place.
“How the-”
“He’s all seeing and all knowing,” Remy says mysteriously.
We sit in silence but I know that Mira has something to say. How do I know? Probably because she’s wriggling in her seat, muttering to herself.
“Just say it,” I tell her, waving a hand in her direction.
“Thank you!” she bursts out. “Are you sure you only want to be friends with Mad Dog? Like I get you’re a super strong, independent woman who doesn't need a man. You’re like the blueprint for all those badass girl songs. So cool,” she whispers that last part.
All the Ol Ladies have their eyes on me, well all except Chewy who is looking in my direction but not at me.
It should feel uncomfortable, them all waiting on an answer.
An answer that I can’t give them because I’m too damn confused myself.
I mean, I could just lie and tell them I’m sure that all Mad Dog and I will have together is friendship, but then I think about all he’s done in the last week or so.
After fixing my door and wall he also fixed my pantry drawer that kept sticking and loaded some yard trash into a truck to take away for me.
He arranged for his brothers to watch my back after Diesel threatened me and every decision about my life or safety since then he’s asked me for my input.
He and Niko set up cameras around my home and new security and all the while I’ve gotten to know little things about Mad Dog.
How he doesn’t like tea but he’ll drink it if I offer it to him.
How he says he prefers heavy metal but I’ve heard him singing my favorite Fleetwood Mac songs under his breath.
I look at the women around me, the ones who have somehow wriggled their way past my defences and I answer them truthfully.
“I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?” Chewy asks. “I can help. I know lots of things.”
“Probably not this one, Chewy. I fear this one is about feelings,” Mama Debs says, patting Chewy’s shoulder.
“Oh, yeah, I’m not really bothered to know about that.”
“Me neither, Chewy.” I give her a tight smile, before moving my gaze to look at the rest of the women in the room. “I think I need help?”
Pops flicks the recliner to a sitting position, swiping at the cucumbers on his eyes and flinging them into the kitchen with a flourish.
“Say no more.”