Chapter 29
twenty-nine
GREER
With my diabetes bag slung over his shoulder, Jude guides me through the alleyway to the sidewalk with his hand on my hip. His hazel eyes dance with happiness as we stroll down the sidewalk, past the market.
I’m floating on a cloud of endorphins, too high for anyone to touch.
Last night was magical, beautiful…
Filthy.
In his arms, the entire world disappeared.
I was so wrapped up in Jude that I didn’t notice that my phone was powered off until an hour ago. I have no doubt it was him, in an attempt to command my entire focus. To be honest I didn’t even think about it, too mesmerized by the euphoria surrounding us.
After finding it on a charger in the kitchen, I’d powered it on to find a message from Darcy, asking me to come over to help with posters for a charity ride.
I texted Darcy back accepting her invitation for today, and left Mom’s usual crazy text messages alone for now. Then I turned my cell off again and climbed right back in bed with Jude. Reality can wait when you’re walking through a daydream.
It’s not lost on me that I didn’t hear from Allie, even to tell me she got to campus okay. She must be busy.
“How far away is Darcy and Odin’s house?”
“Just down the block.”
“Maybe we should have ridden over. You’re going to have to walk all the way back to my apartment for your bike ”
He draws me closer to him, “I like everybody in town seeing you in my arms and knowing you’re mine.”
Underneath it all, the biker machismo, the jealousy, the bossiness, is a secret romantic. I catch glimpses of that side of him, and can sense it in the way he touches me. I shoot him a quick smile.
“So, when are you going to call your mother back?” Jude asks.
My head swings straight over to him. “Did you read my texts?”
“Don’t have to. A man showed up long after you fell asleep claiming to be your uncle.”
Mortification flushes my skin scalding hot. “One of my uncles showed up to my apartment in the middle of the night?” When I had a man in my bed nonetheless. Mom threatens to do something like that all the time, but I never thought she’d actually do it.
“Yes, Allie’s father I believe. I told him you were a little tied up, but were fine.”
“You did not!”
“No, I didn’t but I did tell him that you passed out for the night, and promised you would call your parents today.”
I groan with mortification, “I can’t believe Mom actually sent someone over.”
“I can’t believe he left without seeing you when there was a strange man in your place. Apparently none of your family is aware we're seeing one another.”
“Allie knows,” I deny. “And so does my grandmother but she wouldn’t have mentioned it to my parents.”
“Well the cat’s out of the bag now. That was one hell of an introduction.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he showed up last night?”
“Because your brain’s been turned off and I’ve had you to myself for almost a full day. I refuse to share your attention with anyone else.”
A block before we reach White Dog, Jude turns onto a side street and stops at one of the first houses. It’s a cute little wooden structure with a picket fence and a prospect standing out front.
He leads me all the way to the door, greeting Archer with a chin lift. They make it easy remembering everybody’s road names with the embroidered strips on their cuts.
With no care of Archer’s presence, Jude kisses me Rhett Butler style, then gets into the black sprinter van that’s idling on the curb.
A prospect named Three-Peat raps on the door, then tells me to go on inside.
Darcy’s propped up on a leather tufted couch.
Her attention goes from the television, to me.
“Hey, come sit down. You’re just in time to watch this with me.
That guy is in a band that performs at weddings, and he just got stood up at the altar by the woman in the Van Halen tee.. ”
“You’ve never seen The Wedding Singer? It’s one of Adam Sandler’s best movies,” I remark.
“Eh, I grew up kinda weird.”
“Can I grab the stuff to make posters while we’re watching?” I ask, taking a seat opposite her on the couch.
“Odin is coming with it in a few minutes. I have baby brain and forgot to grab it.”
It’s only a few moments later when the front door is yanked open, and Odin wipes his booted feet on the doormat. Darcy’s face lights up with a radiant smile. “Hey you’re home earlier than I thought you’d be…”
After leaving two plastic bags of food on the table, he leans down, resting an arm on each side of Darcy, and gives her a swift peck on the lips. His vivid blue eyes are hooded and blond hair covers his sculpted face when he says, “Hi, Sugar.”
I feel like an interloper watching the engaged couple.
“Thank you for going on a taco run,” Darcy gushes.
“No more sending prospects for cravings. My woman, my bump. I get to be the one who goes.”
“You’re so busy,” she defends.
“My errand. If the baby wants tacos, everybody can wait.” He gives her another quick peck on the lips, then kisses the baby bump almost reverently.
He nods at me in acknowledgement, then heads down the hallway. He reemerges a moment later with his hair tied back.
He leans back down with an arm on each side of Darcy, then nuzzles into her neck. He whispers something to her and then nods to me, “Later.”
Darcy’s wearing an expression I know all too well— the stupor of a woman infatuated with a biker.
Darcy looks up at the many full containers on the coffee table, and proclaims, “The baby had a craving. He was sweet enough to go all the way to Houma for me.”
I shrug, “Believe me, I know all about the sweetness of bikers.”
With the confidence of a woman who knows that it’ll never happen, she laughs and declares, “I’m going to get super fat and be left at the altar.”
“With the way that man looks at you? Never.” Before Jude I’d have been a little jealous of the couple.
Not that Darcy doesn’t deserve a man like Odin, but because I wanted it for myself.
Now we’re in the same boat with a big scary biker that meets our needs before we even have a chance to crook our fingers.
I help her get paper plates while she organizes the containers buffet style. We turn on the movie again and eat our tacos. There’s no awkwardness or feeling each other out, no airs as the President’s old lady.
Spending time with Darcy is far from a challenge with her personality. She’s so laid back and genuinely happy.
It’s easy to find that bliss when you’re with a man that makes your brain foggy.
The baby wakes up from his nap just as the movie ends. The supplies never do get dropped off. Odin must have forgotten about them during his quest to feed his fiancée, and we didn’t think about them until after he left. Going out to get them wasn’t a thought when we were stuffed to the gills.
Darcy and I just hang out together and get to know one another. I love how she talks about Odin.
Her brown eyes dance with laughter as she tells me a story about a civilian flirting with her at a gas station. “The next thing I know, this poor guy is on the ground with a motorcycle boot on his head, and my fiancé is reaching for his gun…in public. Like that isn’t the biggest overreaction ever.”
“So Odin has a jealous streak?” Maybe it’s how the club is built, a social norm.
“That’s putting it lightly. He ends up lecturing the man on my patches, and what they mean, and that I’m taken.”
“So you have a cut as well?” I ask.
“I have a property patch. Not the same thing. It’s so that when we’re in a crowd, everybody knows you’re property…and believe me, you want them to know.”
I sit upright, “So you like it?”
“I wear it with great pride.” She gets this deep, thoughtful expression on her face, then says, “Being given that patch is a show of loyalty and trust. Plus, the day you get your cut, the bikers traditionally get a neck tattoo with your name, and that’s kinda amazing.”
Jude already has a tattoo on his neck. Some sort of intricate geometric pattern in dark ink.
The markings aren’t allowed in the military, so they must have been acquired while working for the Bayou Dogs, if not prospecting.
It stings more than I want to admit. Did he never plan on committing to a woman, or not care for the tradition?
He certainly has no problem calling me his property.
Does he think that I don’t have the same claim on him?
After the closeness of the last twenty-four hours, I’m antsy away from him, like an addict waiting to meet their dealer. He’s busy, so no text messages to tide me over either.
A wet nose nudges at my arm. The rottweiler’s snout is only a few inches away. With his undocked tail wagging with long swoops, he inspects my every movement with clockwork precision. When I start to bounce baby Owen, he barks out a protest.
“Gris-Gris!” Darcy chastises. “Greer’s allowed to play with Owen.”
The dog grumbles, and I could swear it's back talk. I hand the baby back to his mother. “I don’t want to upset the dog.”
“Sorry,” my host apologizes. “Gris-Gris gets a little surly when anybody messes with the baby. Owen’s his human.” She stands to place the baby on a playmat, and Gris-Gris follows behind. He waits while Darcy settles the baby, then crouches down, large tan and black head resting on his paws.
Owen pushes his head up and grins a wide, toothless smile that is infectious, his eyes trained on Gris-Gris. My heart melts when Owen reaches for a toy, and Gris-Gris noses it closer.
Darcy sits back on the sofa and props her bare, swollen feet up on the coffee table. “They’ve been like that since Owen was a month old. Love at first sight.”
Not wanting to outstay my welcome, I say, “Speaking of dogs, I’d better go check on mine before I get evicted for his barking.”
Darcy bites the side of her lip, “I was hoping you’d stay for a bit longer. I had a little bit of an ulterior motive inviting you over.”