Chapter 6
Lauren
King was as good as his word, and I was awakened Tuesday morning by one of the prospects from the club ringing my doorbell to return my key fob.
“Viking had us put on four new tires for you, ma’am, so you shouldn’t have any more trouble.”
When I asked about the bill for the tires, I was informed that there was no charge. I tried to argue but the prospect was adamant.
“Viking said there was no charge, so you’ll have to take it up with him.”
I immediately called Uncle Bill, who seemed insulted that I wanted to pay him.
“It’s worth the cost of some tires for me to have the peace of mind that you’re not gonna get stranded with a flat somewhere, so quit bitchin’ about it and just drive the damned car, girlie.”
I knew that his gruffness hid a heart of gold, so I did as I was told and quit bitching about it.
“Then let me at least take you out for a milkshake tonight,” I offered, and he gladly took me up on it. Later that evening, we enjoyed milkshakes at the diner, where Uncle Bill scowled at everyone except for me and Martie, the woman who’d waited on us on Saturday.
“I’ve been drinking milkshakes from this place for almost fifty years, and they haven’t changed a bit,” he declared as he slurped the last of his shake from the cup. “Now, what’s this I hear from Trick about that cheatin’ piece of shit harassin’ you?”
“Ugh,” I whined, irritated with Trick for telling him about it.
Uncle Bill had worried enough about me over the years, I hated to bother him with this, too.
“It’s nothing, really. He’s just upset that we’re losing money on the condo sale, and he’s being a bit of an ass about it. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Uncle Bill eyed me sternly across the table, as if trying to decide if I was being truthful. After several long moments, he sighed and shook his head. “Well, all right then. But let me know if he keeps it up. I’ll ride to Pittsburgh and kick his ass myself if I have to!”
My lips twitched at his gruff order, as I pictured him going toe-to-toe with Beau.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure who would come out the winner in that fight.
Beau was a firefighter. He was in great physical condition and had the benefit of being over forty years younger than Uncle Bill.
My uncle was no slouch either though, and he was in better shape than most men half his age.
I suspected he also knew how to fight dirty and had plenty of practice at it over the years.
“There is no need for any ass-kicking,” I promised him, then leaned across the table to plant a kiss on his weathered cheek. There had been no more calls or texts from Beau, at least since he’d texted late last night to ask who had answered my phone and I’d lied that it was my new boyfriend.
Was that petty? Absolutely. Did I feel bad about it? No, not one little bit.
I was a little annoyed at the high-handed way Trick had taken over and chewed his ass out, but I couldn’t deny that I was pleased with the end result.
We left soon after, and Uncle Bill insisted on following me home. He rolled to a stop at the curb as I pulled into my garage and waited until I got inside the house before sounding his horn and giving me a wave as he roared off down the road.
I wanted to do something more for him for taking care of my tires, so I placed an order at the bakery near the studio Thursday morning and picked it up when I finished recording late in the afternoon.
The common room was fairly crowded when I walked in, with quite a few of the MC members and a few of the club bunnies hanging around. A couple of the men called out a greeting when they saw me, and I smiled and shot them a quick wave as I made my way over to the bar where Uncle Bill sat.
He’d turned on his stool at the sound of my name, and I grinned at him as I placed the bakery box on the bar top in front of him.
“Well, this is a surprise, girlie,” he greeted me gruffly as he stood to give me a hug, then motioned for me to sit on the stool next to him.
“What’s this?” His bushy eyebrows were raised in question as he gestured to the boxes.
“It’s another little thank you gift, since you wouldn’t let me pay for the new tires.”
His face lost its customary scowl as he opened it, grinning as he saw the German chocolate cake inside.
“I hope that’s still your favorite,” I said.
He leaned over the box and inhaled deeply, then shot me a satisfied smile.
“It damn sure is, darlin’, thank you. You saved me a phone call, too. Ella wanted me to let you know she’s having a cookout a week from Saturday. It’ll be at their house, so there won’t be any damned hoochies runnin’ around with their business hangin’ out. It’s at one o’clock, if you can make it.”
“Well, with an invitation like that, how could I miss it?” I teased. “Can I bring anything?”
He was already shaking his head before I even got the offer out.
“Nah, Ella loves hostin’ shit, and she’s one helluva good cook.
Between her and Molly, they’ve got it covered.
” He started to say something else but was interrupted by one of the men – Irish, the club’s treasurer, if I remembered correctly.
“Hey Viking,” the heavily tatted, red-haired man called out, “can I get you to look at some invoices for the garage real quick? I think the parts supplier fucked up the pricing, and I don’t want to pay them until I know they’re right.”
“Damned sons-of-bitches,” Uncle Bill grumbled half under his breath. “I’ll be right back, girlie.”
He stood up and took a step, then turned back and all but growled at the young man working behind the bar.
“Prospect, keep an eye on my niece…and my cake” he added as an afterthought. “If any one of these assholes tries to touch either one of ‘em, tell him I’ll rip off his dick and feed it to the neighbor’s dog.”
I bit my lip to hide my snicker as he stomped off across the room and followed Irish down the hall.
The prospect, Rod, leaned over the bar and flashed me a grin. “We don’t have any neighbors, but I’ll take his threat seriously anyway. Now, what can I get you to drink?
I shook my head. “I don’t need anything, but thank you.”
He nodded, then turned back to his task of stocking the cooler behind the bar with what seemed to be an endless supply of beer bottles.
I pulled out my phone, intending to check my email.
“I’m surprised the old man left you here alone.”
I turned my head to see Trick sliding onto the stool Uncle Bill had just vacated. He gestured for Rod to hand him a beer, then asked what I wanted to drink.
“Nothing, thanks.”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting under his leather cut, then reached for the small cake box. Before he could open it, I shook my head.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. That cake’s for my uncle, and he doesn’t like to share. I believe he mentioned something about feeding your dick to the neighbor’s dog if you touched it.”
Trick winced, then shook his head in mock sorrow. “Now that would be a damned shame, darlin’, for more than one reason.”
I raised a brow in question, and the incorrigible flirt shot me a wink.
The urge to roll my eyes hit hard, but I restrained myself. Barely.
He opened it with interest
“So, what did our resident grouchy ass do to deserve a cake all to himself?”
“He replaced all my tires, and refused to let me pay for them,” I replied, not offended by his description. Uncle Bill was a grouch – to everyone but me, anyway.
“It’s good that he’s looking out for you,” Trick acknowledged, then gave me a panty-melting grin that was probably illegal in some states.
“Are you sure I can’t talk you into having a drink with me? It looks like he may be a while.”
“I’m really not thirsty,” I insisted, gritting my teeth because his offer had been delivered with another one of those damned winks that seemed to be second nature for him.
He was a gorgeous man; I’d give him that. It was just too bad he was so full of himself.
“Hey, Trick.”
We both turned to see a scantily dressed woman – one of the hoochies Uncle Bill had referred to – sauntering up to his side.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually seen someone saunter before now, but there really wasn’t any other way to describe the way she moved.
It was a kind of sensual gliding motion, probably made easier by the lack of clothing restricting her movements, the snarky voice inside my head pointed out.
She laid a hand on his arm and shot me a distinctly possessive glare behind his back. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to slip off my stool. Luckily, Uncle Bill was walking back into the common room at that moment, so I quickly crossed over to him.
“I have an early morning session booked in the studio, so I’m going to head out. Don’t worry, I kept your cake safe,” I teased, before giving him a kiss on his whiskered cheek.
The next week flew by in a flash. Aside from a flurry of recording sessions for my current audiobook project, I also did some training modules for a newly established investment firm.
Those spots were boring as hell to record, and if I’d had to repeat the phrase “remember, the goal is to minimize risk and optimize reward” even one more time, I would have thrown my headphones across the booth.
I attended another book club at Ella’s house Monday night, where the men were once again gathered in the basement to watch the game. Trick shamelessly flirted with me when he walked into the kitchen at the very moment I was licking a smear of chocolate icing from my finger.
“Lucky finger…that’s some nice tongue action, darlin’,” he observed with a wicked grin, giving me one of those ridiculous winks of his as he selected a cupcake for himself.
I fled the kitchen with as much dignity as I could muster and was distracted for the last half of our book discussion as I remembered the way his voice had dropped to a low, sexy growl. I was torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to climb him like a tree.