Maybe not the best time to bring up my bigoted, racist, maniac of a husband, while sitting half-naked on Trunk’s lap. His fingers tighten on my hips, and I curse myself for even bringing it up, when his lips curve in a smile.
“Knew he was a fucking idiot. Didn’t realize how much of one until now.” He tags me behind my neck and pulls me down for a hard kiss. “Hop off, Little Mama.”
“But what about…?”
“Not when I’m expected back at the clubhouse tonight. No way I’m gonna hurry once I get inside you. It’ll hold. Now hop off.”
“I could—”
“James—killing me here, baby. Hop on off.”
“Bossy,” I snap, scrambling off his lap and grabbing my sweater off the floor, yanking it over my head.
He stands up as well, adjusting himself in the process. “It’s who I am.”
“I know. I’m trying to decide whether I like it or not,” I confess, making him smile wide.
I think my heart stopped in my chest. It’s the first time I’ve seen him full-out smile, and it’s devastatingly beautiful. He has dimples. How the fuck am I supposed to resist those?
“You like it,” he rumbles.
I’m afraid he’s right.
CHAPTER 11
Trunk
“YO. TRUNK, ARE you even listening?”
Shit. No, I wasn’t.
I was reliving the tight squeeze of Jaimie’s pussy around my fingers. It had taken everything out of me not to roll her over and bury myself inside her body. Those tits, her scent, the little gasps as she reached for relief; she was fucking magnificent. My dick is still hard.
I look around Ouray’s office and see the other four men’s eyes on me. “What was that?”
“I asked if you had any thoughts, but now I’m not sure I wanna hear them,” Ouray shares, making some of the guys chuckle. He shushes them with a single look. “The boys, any suggestions on how to handle them? It’s like someone put something in their Cheerios, for fuck’s sake. Momma had to take Elan into the emergency room with a gash on his head that required twelve stitches. From Istu whacking him with a five-pound weight this morning.” He bulges his eyes out at me, before sitting back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Three days ago, Ezhno kicked the PlayStation against the wall—broke the damn thing—and yesterday my son swung at Matt when they were on kitchen duty together. Nobody will fucking fess up to what went down.”
“Where are they now?”
“Elan is with Momma and Nosh, Ahiga is at home with Luna, and the other boys are in the barn with Wapi and Honon keeping an eye out.”
Yuma snorts loudly. “I still think it’s ridiculous we have to put a brother on babysitting duty.”
“Yeah?” Paco jumps in. “Would you rather those boys end up doing each other harm and CPS jumping all over our backs?”
“I’m just saying, we already have brothers watching the gym, the restaurant, and the Riverside Apartments around the clock. We’ve got fourteen brothers, three cubs, two senior citizens…hardly enough to cover all our businesses and those damn boys.” The cubs he’s referring to are the club’s prospects.
“What do you suggest then, Yuma?” Ouray asks sharply. “Those businesses are our bread and butter and someone is doing a bang-up job shutting us down.”
“You don’t know that,” the younger man says defensively.
“Fuck’s sake, are you blind?” Paco loses his cool. “Almost twelve years smooth sailing and then suddenly, in the time span of a few weeks, shit goes down at every single one of our locations? You know damn well that’s no coincidence, brother.”
“All I know is this club used to mean something. We had respect both in town and with the other MCs. Nowadays, we’re nothin’ but a laughing stock.” With that he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Things are going to shit in a hurry. Not only outside of the club but inside as well.
I ignore Yuma’s dramatic exit and lean forward, my elbows on my knees.
“Who stands to benefit if the Arrow’s Edge falls apart at the seams?”
I’ve only been with the MC for a little over a year, so I haven’t seen them running anything other than legal businesses, but I also know there was a time they were on the wrong side of the law. Ouray had a lot to do with turning the club around when he took the hammer.
I wouldn’t have patched in otherwise. Not that I’m an angel—Lord knows I’ve skirted boundaries and even crossed them in my life—but only if I could morally justify my actions, if not legally. Gunrunning and drug trafficking don’t qualify, keeping the town clear of outlaw MCs, or other criminal elements moving in, by any means necessary absolutely do.
“Too many to count,” Ouray says, running a hand through hair that’s already standing on end. His stress is showing. “We control the south end of the most direct route north through the Rockies. It’s not the first time—and I’m sure it won’t be the last—someone wants to either suck us in or wipe us off the map. Discord in our ranks doesn’t just play into the hands of whoever is behind this, but of every fucking trafficker out there.”
The room falls silent for a few moments before Kaga, who has been silent so far, speaks up. “We need to pad our ranks. Get some fresh blood in. I have an idea I’ve been toying with for a while that may benefit some of our boys too.”
“Which is?”
“I have a buddy in Grand Junction. Road name’s Brick. He’s a mechanic and runs his own business. He’s been talking about a change of scenery. We’ve got lots of room here, what if we invited him up here? See if he’d be interested in setting up a shop here? It could be another source of income, a draw to pull new blood in.”
“I don’t know,” Ouray mulls. “With all the shit flying right now.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” I voice. “Not just from a business perspective, but also for the boys. Something constructive for them to invest time in. Let them dick around with old cars, under supervision. Learn something. Call it professional development or some fucking thing like that, but having them jointly fix up some old clunker would go a long way to building their team spirit. Fuck, maybe we can see if this Brick would run apprenticeships for kids who show a knack.”
“I like it,” Paco contributes, but all our eyes are on Ouray.
“All right. Kaga, get in touch with this Brick guy and feel him out. If not him, maybe he knows someone else who might be interested. Paco, talk to some of the other brothers, see if you can come up with something we can do to draw interest in the club. I don’t know what—maybe a fucking open house or whatever—but think of something. It’s already March and everyone is gagging to get out on the road, let’s make use of that.” Then he turns to me, his face dead serious. “And you, find out what the fuck has gotten into those damn kids, including my son.”
“What about Yuma?” Paco wants to know.
“I’ll take care of Yuma. Also, remember we’ve got a few guys from the Moab Reds swinging by this weekend. Party tomorrow night, but I don’t want any of our shit to be on display.”
“Got it, Chief.”
It’s already after midnight when we break it up. There are only a few brothers hanging around the bar, Yuma is not one of them.
“Beer?” Paco asks me.
“Yeah, give me a minute.”
It’s too late to call Jaimie, but I can send her a text to remind her of tomorrow night.
Me: Pick you up at 8 for club party.
Too long a wait if you ask me, but I’m gonna need time with the boys to see if I can get them back in line. I should probably crash here tonight; I can worry about clearing my driveway tomorrow.
I’ve barely sat down on the barstool when my phone pings.
James: Bossy. Thnx for the driveway btw.
I smile at her message. When I left her earlier the snow had stopped, and I quickly cleared the few inches that had fallen before getting in my truck.
Me: You like me bossy. Why r u up?
The sound of her
incoming text is immediate.
James: River. Teething.
Me: Poor lil’ dude. Poor Little Mama. Try to sleep.
James: Trying to. Hard when someone’s blowing up my phone.
Me: ‘Hard’ and ‘blowing’ in one breath? You’re cruel.
James: LOL. You’re easy.
Me: For you, yes. Night, James.
James: Night, Titus Maximus Rae.
I chuckle at her use of my full name, undoubtedly thanks to my fucking sister.
“Fuck you’ve got it bad, man,” Paco teases, grinning as he slams a bottle on the bar in front of me. “I didn’t even know you were capable of smiling.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I fire off, but I do it with a grin on my face.
Jaimie
“Rough night?”
I turn my bleary eyes on my mom walking into the house.
“I ended up keeping him in my bed. Easier than getting up every hour on the hour.”
“Ouch,” she says, sympathetically. “Why don’t I keep him tonight? Give you a break? My bed is big enough, or we can move the playpen up there.”
The thought of a full night’s sleep is enticing. There’s also my date for tonight. I almost feel guilty even considering pawning my son off for the night, so I have my hands free. So to speak.
“Actually,” I start, looking at my mother from under my puffy eyelids. “I forgot to mention, I have a date tonight.”
“Trunk?”
“Ma! Of course Trunk. Not like men have been knocking down my door.”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Jaimie. That nice detective noticed. I bet others have too.”
“What I am is a single mother of a toddler, who doesn’t really have the time to date. Hardly appealing.”
“Bullhickey. Doesn’t seem to bother Trunk. I’ll be happy to look after River so you can have a little fun. You’re due.”
I get up from my chair and walk up to her, giving her a hug. “You’re the best, Mom.”
It’s Saturday, but that doesn’t mean a day off. Not in this industry. I managed to send off the confirmation for our upcoming trip to New York, and Karen got back to me this morning with a proposed itinerary.
She’s booked us to fly out this upcoming Friday afternoon, returning twenty-four hours later. The schedule is jam-packed, and I wonder if it wouldn’t be wiser to stay until Sunday. With the transfer in Denver it’ll be between six and seven hours of travel time both ways. Doesn’t leave much time for sleep or breaks. I grab my phone and dial Tahlula.
“Have you seen Karen’s email?” she asks right away.
“That’s what I’m calling about. I think we should tack on another night. Come back Sunday.”
I listen to her sigh deeply. “I don’t want to.”
“I realize that, but you’re gonna be dead on your feet with the schedule the way it is. I know you don’t want to leave Hanna that long, but you have another baby you need to think about.”
“You know I don’t like it when you make sense, right?” she complains. I hear some rustling in the background and then suddenly Evan is on the phone.
“Jaimie? Could you book me and Hanna on whatever flight you guys end up on?”
I chuckle. “You sure you wouldn’t rather I book you an appointment for a rectal exam?”
“You’re a sick individual, woman,” he retorts with an audible shudder.
“My work here is done. Tell T I’ll send her over the information as soon as I have it. You’re a good egg, Mr. Biel.” I grin at his responding grumbles before ending the call.
I spend the afternoon finalizing details and making sure I have announcements for the signing next Saturday posted all over Tahlula’s social media. It would be a waste of a trip if no one showed up.
Now I’m standing in front of my closet, a towel wrapped around me, wondering what the hell one wears for a party at a clubhouse. It doesn’t sound like a place you’d get dolled up for, not that I’d remember how to do that anyway, but I do want to look good. Resolved, I grab my least mom-style pair of jeans off the shelf and pull a navy wrap sweater off a hanger.
Mom sticks her head around the door just as I’m assessing my outfit in front of the mirror.
“Stop fussing,” she orders when she sees me tugging at the sweater. The cleavage is a little more generous than I remember from the pre-River days, but then so are my breasts.
“I look like a walking fruit basket,” I grumble. “I should put a tank top on underneath.”
“You look lovely as you are,” Mom says firmly. “Besides, there’s no time to change, your date is being entertained by your son, but I’m sure he’d rather see you.”
“He’s already here?”
“You were in the shower. Shouldn’t keep him waiting even longer.”
I roll my eyes, ignore her snicker, and I slip by her to head down the stairs.
_______________
“So what should I expect?”
Trunk glances over. “Expect?”
“From this party.”
I shouldn’t be surprised Trunk seemed to appreciate the deep V of my sweater. He allayed any doubts I might’ve had by pulling me close with one arm and sliding his hand down to my ass. Then he kissed me thoroughly, right in front of my mom and River, who was happily perched on his other arm.
Right before we left, Mom mortified me by pointedly telling Trunk my son would be sleeping in her apartment tonight, and therefore we didn’t have to worry about waking him up. Before she had a chance to say anything else embarrassing, I grabbed Trunk’s hand and pulled him outside.
I was so busy being annoyed with my mother; I didn’t get nervous until just now, driving through the gate and into the compound.
“Just a party. Some drinking, probably food—knowing Momma—friends, music.”
“Will Luna be there?” I’d met Ouray’s wife at Tahlula’s wedding and liked her a lot. She could be my skinnier, tougher, kick-ass sister.
“Yup. Can we go inside now or do you have more questions?”
I narrow my eyes on him, but that just makes the corners of his mouth tilt up. There are the dimples, and there goes my snit.
“Fine.”
The light of a cigarette flares up in the shadows under the overhang when we walk up, and my hand clenches in Trunk’s.
“Nice piece.” The disembodied voice sends chills down my spine, and Trunk goes rigid beside me.
“Don’t know who the fuck you are, but you may wanna rethink that comment.” Trunk moves partially between me and whomever is out there, and coward that I am, I curl my hand in the back of his coat, getting a little freaked out. So far this isn’t my idea of a good time.
The glowing tip of the cigarette arcs through the air and lands right in front of us, sizzling in the snow. The man steps out of the shadows and stops with his back to the door.
“That how you treat your guests?” he snarls. “Your prez needs to teach you some manners, boy.”
I feel tension crackling off Trunk and quickly wrap both my arms around his waist, grabbing on tight. I’m under no illusion I can hold him back, but at least I’ll have tried.
“Chains.” Ouray’s firm voice sounds behind the guy. “Your beer’s getting warm, my friend.” He steps out, throws an arm around the man’s shoulders, and turns him toward the door. “I’ll be right in.”
The moment the door closes behind the guy, Ouray turns to us with his hands held up.
“What the fuck, brother?” Trunk growls, his body still tight with tension.
“Chains is an asshole, especially when he’s been drinking, which he’s done since he got here. He’s also vice president for the Moab Reds, and since I’m still not clear why the fuck they wanted this visit, I’d prefer to save any bloodshed ’til later.”
“Excuse me,” I blurt out, finally letting go of Trunk’s waist, but now he throws an arm around me. “Could we maybe do away with bloodshed altogether? I’ve kinda been looking forward to this date.”
Ouray grins wide. “Nice to see you again, Jaimie. Come on in.”
CHAPTER 12
Jaimie
“YOU’LL GET USED to it.”
I’m not so sure, as I take in the man introduced to me earlier as Yuma head off down the hallway at the back with his arms around two giggling females. It doesn’t take a whole lot to imagine what they’ll be up to.
“Is that normal?” I ask Luna, who winces a little at my question.
“For some of the guys it’s hard to let go of the old ways, which was basically live hard and live free. What you saw there is an example of the live free part. There’ll be times—usually well after Momma calls it a night—when they don’t even bother finding an empty room.” She shrugs and smiles at me.
I’m not a prude—I don’t think—but I’m not sure I’d like an audience, let alone extra participants. “It doesn’t bother you?”
“No. Not anymore. I know now Ouray may not have issues being buck-ass naked in front of his brothers, but he there’s no way he’d allow strange eyes on me. My other concern was the women, but I’ve learned they are here by choice.”
I look across the large room at Trunk, leaning against the bar, deep in conversation with Luna’s husband. “Did he…?”
“Trunk? Not that I know of,” she says, clueing into my train of thought easily. “Not that I’ve been witness to anyway.”
“Refills?” The young guy who Trunk had sent to shovel my driveway, stops by our table.
“Water for me, Wapi. Thanks,” Luna tells him.
“I wouldn’t mind one more, but after that cut me off.” He grins before heading back to the bar.
“Not a big drinker either?”
“Not exactly,” I admit with a wince, remembering the last time I was drinking wine. Two glasses will be my new limit. Especially if I want to keep my wits about me.
“I was going to ask you, did my boss get in touch with you?” Luna asks, and my gaze darts immediately to Trunk who is still standing by the bar. “Don’t worry. I don’t make it a rule to share details about my work with my husband, let alone anyone else here. It’s better for Ouray’s peace of mind if I don’t. He tends to be a little protective.”
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