They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Jase asked, “Slate around?”
“Nope,” came Mason’s response. “Had to send him to Fort Wayne on club business. Whatcha need, man?”
“How about Birdy?” he asked. “I’m determined to make that man like me.”
“Fuck that, man. He doesn’t like anyone I know of.” Mason stared at him, repeating, “Whatcha need?”
“Was going to ask Slate something about DeeDee. I’ll give him a call later; see if I can catch him.” Jase blew out an irritated breath. He was hoping to find out what DeeDee’s status with the club was without asking Mason. After going over every conversation with her in his head, some of the things she said made him uncomfortable. He hoped Slate might be willing to shed some light without judging him for asking in the first place.
“Whatcha want to know? I’ve known the woman since we were kids.” Mason offered this calmly, picking up his beer and taking a drink.
“Since you were kids? I thought you moved here when you were barely a teen. She’s originally from Chicago, then?” He was embarrassingly eager for any information about her, and nearly rolled his eyes at himself.
“Nope, she’s never lived here, just visited from time to time. Whatcha want to know?” This final repeat of the question had Mason’s mouth drawn tight. He had given away personal information, probably more than he intended. That made Jase want to analyze their conversation, but he had an opening and wouldn’t waste it; he had to at least ask.
“At the party, I saw she was watched and escorted pretty carefully by your Rebels. I thought her old man was dead, so it kinda confused me. What’s she still doing hanging around the club if she doesn’t have anything holding her there anymore?” Shit that came out wrong, he thought. “I mean, it’s not like she’s a hostage or anything, but is everything okay?” Fuck, that’s no better. Remember, he’s known her all her life, apparently. “What I meant to say was it seemed odd, like she didn’t have control over small things. She was even told how long she would be here and where to go. Why would you do that if she’s not in the club?”
“Jesus, Jase. You ask the oddest shit.” Mason shook his head with an amused expression. “You know about Winger, her old man.” This was a statement, not a question, but Jase nodded anyway. “He was a lifer. He lived as a Rebel, and dead or alive, we honor him by caring for his family. As long as she wants or needs to be associated with the club in any capacity, she has a place. That means we keep her safe. I asked her to come up for the party…for a lot of reasons. But, that party had the potential to be a cluster with so many people there. We had a bunch of different clubs with lots of tension about how some things are going down, changes I’m putting into place. With some of them, we have…strained relations. So, we watched out for her; that’s all. Kept her safe.” Mason brushed aside his false starts at questioning, answering the real one hidden in the mix. “We keep her safe.”
Jase nodded, then paused and shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“Fuck. Okay, look at it this way. You have a family, right?” He waited for Jase’s nod. “You’d protect them against anything. It’s what we do as people. We come pre-programmed to protect the ones we love, right?” He waited for another nod before continuing, “Well, to us, she’s family—and we take care of family. Give them a place to stay, a reason to wake up in the morning, protection from potential harm, purpose in life—we take care of family, no matter what.” Tilting his head, he looked at Jase. “She decides it’s time to walk her own line, we’ll respect that, too. Give her space as needed, but she knows we’ll always be here if she needs us. She’s family.”
Road trip
“No, Daniel, I’m only going for a couple of days. I’m planning to ride Mason’s bike down. Birdy recommended I get a taste for longer rides and see if I like road tripping. Slate’s already in Fort Wayne. I’m gonna hunt him up and show off my skills.” He laughed, dropping a shirt into his bag as he switched the phone to his other ear. “Motorcycle ridin’ skills, I gots ‘em.”
Daniel snorted and said, “Okay, let me know if you need anything. You barely got back from a two-week trip to Alberta, make sure you’re not too tired when you head out.”
“Will do, Cap’n...or should I call you mom?” he joked, pausing for a minute to listen to the background noise coming from the phone. “What the hell is that racket?”
“Mica’s stressing over the wedding. When she stresses, she needs to work it out.” Away from the phone, Daniel yelled, “Beautiful, turn it down.”
There was a dramatic reduction in the volume, and Mica said in the background, “Sorry. I’ll finish vacuuming later.”
“Dude, it’s like midnight. What is she cleaning?” Jase was laughing; he didn’t know why his friend felt the need to rush their wedding, but the man seemed determined to be hitched before the season started. The truncated timeline for the event gave them only a few more weeks to get things ironed out.
“Everything. It’s just stress, as I said. She’s gotta work it out. Hey, keep me updated with your location. I worry about you riding that bike. Don’t fuck up and get hurt, man.” Daniel had always been a worrier, but Jase laughed it off like he usually did, hanging up the phone.
The next morning, he was up early and on his way, making the trip to Fort Wayne in about five hours. He found a restaurant on the north side of town and pulled into the parking lot to rest, regroup, and feed his stomach, which had been growling for the last fifty miles. Sitting at the table, he looked down at his phone lying there innocently, taunting him. He used one finger to spin it slowly, first one way and then the other. Not particularly wanting to call Slate, because the man hadn’t been terribly helpful the last time they spoke, he was trying to decide what to do. He heard through the grapevine Tug had come to town with Mason’s kid, and if Tug was here, he might have the information needed to find DeeDee. He was a ton more approachable than Slate too, at least for this.
Now to figure out who might have Tug’s number. The waitress brought his food and he dove in enthusiastically, eating with gusto. Mica, he thought, she’ll have Tug’s number. Hell, she might even have DeeDee’s. Setting down his fork, he picked up the phone and dialed. She answered breathlessly, “Hello?”
“Hey, pretty woman,” he teased, laughing when she sighed.
“Jase,” she said evenly, “what do you need?”
Oh no, she sounded upset. “Mica, honey, I hate to bother you, but do you have Tug or DeeDee’s phone numbers?” He cut right to the chase; he didn’t want to irritate the team captain’s soon-to-be wife.
“Let me look. I think I have Tug’s, but I doubt I have DeeDee’s. She’s always in Fort Wayne, so we haven’t had a lot of girlfriend time. Is everything okay?” Her voice sounded distracted; there was a rustling noise in the background, then Daniel’s voice closer to the phone asking who it was. She responded to him, “It’s Jase, give me a second,” and then rattled off a number.
He entered the number she gave him into the phone, thanked her, and hung up before his boss could ask why he was calling. Saving it into his contacts, he dialed, surprised when Tug answered on the first ring with a brisk, “Whatcha need?”
“Hey, Tug. It’s Jase. How you doing, man?” Small talk…yeah, that would save him. Sure.
Silence greeted him, then a terse repeat of the question, “Whatcha need?”
“Hey, I wondered if you knew where DeeDee was these days. I’m in town and wanted to see her. Say hello, that kind of thing. Just say hello. If you knew. Where she was, that is…was.” Damn he was nervous and his mouth was running away from his common sense.
“She’s at work right now,” Tug spoke slowly, seeming to weigh both the words and the worthiness of the audience.
“Yeah? Working is hard. Good, but hard. It’s good she’s working. Wherever it is. I bet she’s good. At working, yeah.” He cleared his throat and took a breath, feeling like an idiot. “Where’s she working?”
“She’s tak
en over managing a strip club we own.” Tug said this casually, as if that wasn’t simultaneously the hottest thing Jase had ever heard and the most frightening. If she was managing, did that mean she wasn’t dancing? I hope she’s not dancing. That would…what? What would that do to me? But, her watching other women dance? That was seriously hot. Damn. I needed to ask Tug something, but what?
Oh, yeah. “That’s cool. Where is it?” He needed a name or address so he could go find DeeDee and see how she was doing...what she was doing.
“North of town a bit, called Slinky’s. It’s a nice place, not sleazy. She’ll be there for most of the day; she’s getting everything whipped into shape after the previous manager fucked it all up.” Tug’s voice carried the slightest level of amusement, as if he could see Jase fidgeting to get off the phone now.
“Beauty. I’ll look her up. Look it up, the business that is. Go in, have a good visit with DeeDee. I’ll see ya, Tug. Thanks, man.” He disconnected the call and dropped his forehead onto the tabletop, rolling his head back and forth. Shit, he sounded like an idiot. Tug would have to be stupid not to realize he had it bad for the woman. Shit.
Pulling into the parking lot of the club, he saw a couple dozen bikes already parked near the building, so he backed Mason’s bike into the row at the end. Pocketing the key, he strolled towards the door, admiring the motorcycles as he went. The one beside the door made him pause and narrow his eyes. He knew this bike; it was the one DeeDee had been riding in Chicago. Shit, she really is here.
Opening the door, he stepped inside, letting it close behind him as his eyes adjusted and he took in the layout of the room. Moving to the bar, he hooked a stool over with one foot, propping his ass on one edge of the cushioned seat. The bartender looked up with a silent question, continuing to hand-wash the dishes in the sink.
“Crown and Coke, lots of Coke. Nah, change it up, forget the Coke, and just keep the Crown. Double, rocks.” He said this with a smile and watched as she dried her hands on a bar towel, pushing hair out of her face with the back of one wrist.
“You got it,” she told him pleasantly, turning to grab the liquor from the display as he laid a bill on the bar.
“Hey, Spencer,” a voice called his name, and he turned his head to see Hoss walking over to him. Standing, he stuck out his hand and they clasped wrists, shaking twice while the man eyed him up and down, asking, “You in town for long, man?”
“Few days,” he said. “Got back yesterday from a couple weeks back home in Canada, and wanted to try a small road trip. Birdy said this seemed a likely destination, seeing as I know people here. So, I decided to come see what you boys are up to in the Fort, eh?” Shit, give a boy two weeks in Alberta and I sound like a Canuck again.
Hoss pulled up a stool next to him, tilting his head to look Jase up and down again. “And it wouldn’t have anything to do with a particular cute redhead, would it?” He laughed softly, looking at Jase with sympathy. “Tug called, man. Any cover you expected is blown with the club, but she doesn’t know you’re here yet. ”
He blew out a heavy sigh, his words coming in fits and starts. “I just…she wasn’t…” He sighed again. “I want to see for myself that she’s okay. We had a…but, and then she was gone. Just gone. Then she came all the way to Chicago to a game. She came to a playoff game, but then wouldn’t see me. Hoss, man...there’s something about her. I can’t get her out of my head. There’s something there and I…I can’t…I just wanna see she’s okay, eh?”
“She’s taken on a lot in the past few weeks. We needed her and she stepped up, man. Don’t know if she’s got time for a sometime thing.” Hoss shrugged and shook his head dismissively.
Jase frowned at him. “What do you mean a sometime thing?”
“You know, a guy who trots into town when he wants some pussy, gets what he wants, and goes back home. She ain’t gonna have time for that sometimes shit.” He waved his hand at the bartender and she brought him a glass of iced amber liquid.
Jase sat quietly for a few moments, calming his anger at Hoss’ description of what he might have with DeeDee. In a tense voice, he said, “It isn’t like that.” He took a deep breath, trying to understand where Hoss was coming from. He just wants to protect her; he’s being like this to see how sincere I am. “What if it wasn’t only that?” He mused aloud, for the first time saying what he had been thinking. “What if it was living here in the offseason and home during bye weeks? If I moved to Fort Wayne? Would she have time for that?”
“She might,” Hoss allowed, taking a drink and grimacing. “It sounds more serious, more like what she needs. Delia, honey, pass me the sugar, would ya?” The bartender dropped a container and a spoon on the bar in front of him and Jase watched in amusement as he ladled spoonful after spoonful of the granulated sweetener into the glass.
“What the hell are you drinking?” he asked, finally.
“Tea, but these damn Yankees all think unsweet is as good as it gets. Fuck that shit. Give me Southern sweet tea any damn day.” He stirred the tea, watching the clouds of sugar settle and swirl, dissolving into the liquid.
“You’re from the south, eh?” Jase stuck the tip of his tongue between his front teeth and bit lightly. He wanted to stop with the stereotypical Canuck-speak.
“Yeah, sweet home Alabama. Birmingham, I got folks there still.” Taking another sip from the glass, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. “Now that’s some damn sweet tea.” He took another drink, setting his forearms on the edge of the bar. “That might be good enough for now.”
Puzzled, he frowned at the man again. “Excuse me? Good enough?”
“Yeah, sounds a lot more than sometimes. We could get behind that.” Hoss met his eyes in the mirror. “She’s always going to be ours, man,” he spoke quietly. “You gotta understand.”
“Yeah, she’s family. I get it,” he responded, his focus shifting away from the man. He stared at the mirror, drinking in the form that appeared as a silhouette in an open doorway behind him. His breath caught in his chest, and his throat was tight as he looked at her. “I gotta…I’ll be back, man.”
Standing, he walked across the room towards her, the lighting from the office shadowing her face and obscuring any reaction. He couldn’t get a read on her, wasn’t sure what she might be thinking. She stepped backwards, inviting him into the room with a small gesture and closed the door behind him, shutting everyone else out. In the sudden silence of the office, he could hear his own breaths rasping in and out of his chest. She was here…right here in front of him. Finally within reach. Fuck, he was so nervous his hands were sweaty.
“Hey,” she breathed, and he saw her hands anxiously twisting around each other.
He responded, “Hey.” Smiling at her, he said, “You wore my jersey.”
She dipped her head, a small, shy smile breaking across her face. “I did. Wouldn’t want to wear anyone else’s.”
Moving towards her, he reached out, pausing before he touched her, holding his unsteady hands only inches from her face. He didn’t think he would be able to breathe right until her skin was under his fingers again, but he didn’t want to assume or pressure her. “Can I…may I?”
Reaching up, she cupped her hands around his, bringing them to her face wordlessly. He sighed when he touched her skin, soaking up the warmth and softness underneath his fingertips. He slowly bent his arms, drawing her to him, bringing her face to meet his as he gently traced her cheekbones with his thumbs. “God, DeeDee, you’re so beautiful you take my breath away. I want to kiss you,” he whispered against her lips. She nodded and he grazed his mouth over hers, dragging slowly across, nipping gently at her bottom lip.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He trailed his mouth along her jaw, pressing soft kisses to her skin between every word. “I…can’t…stop…wanting…you.” Moving back to her lips, he kissed her passionately, capturing her quiet moans in his mouth. “I need you, baby. I haven’t seen you...talked to you...touched you for weeks, and I need you.
I need to have you again.” He angled his head, taking her mouth fiercely, reveling in the feel of her.
Her hands remained on top of his, holding them against her face even as he realized she was trembling. His cock was hard and throbbing, but he was determined to ignore little Jase as best he could. This was her work, her job. They were standing in her office and he couldn’t disrespect her like that. He slowed their kiss, trying to hold onto his control, but she pursued his mouth, opening hers and stroking the tip of her tongue along his lips, asking for entrance.
Ah, God. Groaning, he surrendered to her soft demands, their tongues twisting and battling, gasping as the need for breath made its presence known, then diving back into each other, teeth clashing. He pulled back abruptly and shifted his hold on her face, forcing her cheek against his chest, trying to control his breathing, his reactions. He groaned again at the throbbing in his cock, his hips surging forward involuntarily, seeking the heat of her body where it pressed against him. “Nothing in my life prepared me for you,” he whispered.
Her breasts flattened against his chest, upper body rising and falling with out-of-control breathing that matched him gasp for gasp. One of her hands slipped up his wrist, stroking his forearm over and over, soothing herself and him. They stood there, holding each other for long minutes, as they slowly calmed, hearts moving from a rapidly pounding beat to a steady, fast thud. She ran her hand over his skin, fingertips trailing gently along his arm. Trembling, he slid his hand up and down her back, underneath her hair, everywhere he could reach. Jase found himself unable to stop touching her now that his hands were back in contact with the woman, now that she was again in his arms. She finally pulled in a deep breath, letting out a slow sigh before stepping back, seeming reluctant to break their embrace.
“Jase, why did you come here?” Her face was noncommittal, her features unemotional as she asked the question. This was the mask she used at the party when speaking to the Rebel members.
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