Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Sledge
Watching the president of my club officiate my sister’s wedding to one of my brothers sounds weird as fuck to an outsider. It’s something I didn’t think would ever happen, considering I didn’t even know I had a sister until seven months ago.
Now I do, though, I have a mixture of feelings. Parker is so full of life, I often think how it would have been to grow up together. Instead, I had to find my own family. But fuck me, it’s the best.
I’ll never admit to it, but I had to swallow down my emotions when I walked Parker down the makeshift aisle. Mac walked with Spencer, and Boner stood at the helm with Grinder.
“Why don’t people print their pictures anymore?
” Parker slams another pack of photos down in front of me and yeah, they’re great.
Memories and all that. But there are only so many times a man can see pictures of his sister fucked off her face and dry humping her new husband.
“They’re always digital. I think these are much better, though. Don’t ya think?”
“Hey, sorry it’s taken so long to get around to you. We’re down two waitresses so it’s just me.” The waitress waves her pen-wielding hand and smiles before placing the bill on the table, but it looks pained. Her eyelids are at half-mast like she’s ready to pass out any moment.
My natural reaction doesn’t feel normal because my jaw tightens, my fists clench, and I’m checking her fingers for a ring. I’m relieved to find none, my protective instincts going into overdrive.
“Sit down.” It comes out gruffer than I want and she raises her brows in shock.
The whites of her eyes are slightly pink, making the light grey of her irises even more prominent.
“Er, no, thank you. Are you paying with card or cash?” She clears her throat and composes herself, straightening the dull-looking waitress uniform she’s wearing.
“My big brother’s paying.” I can feel Parker’s big eyes on me, judging me. I just know she’s smirking her arse off, but I don’t care. This woman in front of me has all of my attention.
“Cash.” I don’t even glance at the bill, pulling out my wallet and all the cash I have on me, which is about two hundred dollars.
It’s way too much for two coffees and three cheesecakes—all Parker’s—but other than throwing this woman over my shoulder and stealing her away from her clearly shitty life, it’s all I can do. “Here.”
“Sorry, sir, this is way too much.” She counts out what she needs and hands the rest back, but I don’t budge. It’s hers.
Parker is giggling to herself but I’m ignoring her. She’s probably texting with Spencer and Grinder. They often have her smiling like that.
The woman stares at me, holding out the cash for me to take back, but I shake my head.
“It’s yours. What time do you get off? I’m taking you to dinner.” I stand and slide on my cut, realizing how tiny she is now that I’m effectively looking down at her.
“I’m afraid that won’t be happening…sir.” She gives a tight and very fake smile. “Please take your change.”
“It’s your tip. I’ll be back around seven.” Confident that’s the end of the matter, I turn to Parker, finding her eyes flicking between me and the waitress as she stands, piling up her packs of wedding photos.
“Sir, maybe it’s the language barrier and you’re not understanding what I’m saying, but I’m a waitress not a…
freelance evenin’ companion, bless your misguided little soul.
” I open my mouth to argue but she cuts me off with a smile that’s sweet enough to rot teeth.
“And no, I will not be meetin’ you at seven, or any other time that ends in ‘o’clock’.
What you’re lookin’ for is down the road, two lefts, and a moral crossroads away from here. ”
Shocked at her implication, I watch her walk away, mesmerized by the way her hair is falling from the messy bun on her head. Then, as if in slow motion, she rolls her ankle and begins falling.
I rush to catch her, stopping her body from hitting the floor and hold her for probably longer than I should. Her waist fits perfectly in my palm, her delicate hand resting against my chest.
The moment is broken when her gaze shutters and she comes to her senses, scrambling to get free of me.
“You smell like whiskey.” She doesn’t say it with disdain, more like a factual statement, then she straightens herself, tugging down on the hem of her threadbare uniform.
“Go on now. Have yourself a lovely evenin’ somewhere that isn’t here.
” She lifts her chin and tilts her head with that fake southern smile in place. “Thank you for dinin’ with us.”
“C’mon, big bro. The pretty lady isn’t ready for your brand of caveman this early in the morning.” Parker grabs my arm and practically drags me out of the diner.
I catch a glimpse of the waitress watching me on the way out and I know with everything that I am…
I may have just found my very own dolphin.