I guess we was lucky bein’ raised in the club. You did something you shouldn’t, your pop heard about it at the clubhouse. We had a long rope—hella longer than the kids you hear about today—but we had men killin’ themselves to put food on the table and more than happy to take a chunk out of our asses when we acted stupid.
Jimmy is a smart kid, but rule of nature—all boys get up to some dumb fuckin’ shit. And Kayla can’t be around all the time.
So, yeah, along with the boner, I’ve had worry ridin’ me. And I ain’t used to it, and I don’t fuckin’ like it.
By Friday, it’s been a long week. Dan, the asshole from Garvis, Inc., gave us the runaround with upping the guards so I’ve spent the past three nights on the fence at the Patonquin site. It’s only because Nickel relieved me with his crew that I’m now kicked back on Pops’ porch with a beer in my hand.
If I’m jiggling my knees, it’s cause of the Rebel Raiders. It’s been too quiet. They don’t wave a red flag and then go back to boozin’ and chasin’ tail. They’re either fuckin’ with Patonquin cause they’re makin’ moves elsewhere, or this ain’t what it seems. Or, hell, maybe it was kids lookin’ for a place to party. In which case I’m doin’ Rebel Raiders’ work for ‘em, psyching myself out over a little harmless tresspassin’.
If I’m strung tight, it’s that bullshit. Not cause I’m waiting on a pretty little thing to drive up in my truck and make my week all better. A peach of a girl whose shivers and sighs been playin’ in my head all night, every night.
I made her feel good, and she’s so untouched, she didn’t know what the fuck to make of it. My dick feels twice as big every time I remember that.
Anyway, it ain’t her got me wound up, so I don’t know why everything unwinds when she drives up.
Shit, she’s so short, her chin barely clears the steering wheel.
I hop up quick to help her down. She’s bashful, eyes down, cheeks pink, and her hand trembles a little.
My blood heats and my cock throbs.
She’s so shy. So nervous.
I want to gentle her like a wild thing, tame her to my hand.
Her boy hops down, bumps knuckles with me, and tears off for the garage. Pops says he’s made himself comfortable, banging doors in and out, lettin’ in the flies, like we use to do. I’m happy his mama lets him. Something inside me settles when I know they’re both with Pops.
“Hi,” Kayla mumbles at me, chin down.
That won’t do.
I tilt it up. “Hi back.” I swipe my thumb over her lower lip and it quivers. She inhales sharp and presses those lips together. Tryin’ to play cool.
I don’t want her cool. I want her burnin’ hot like she was the other night before she let her brain get in the way. Tuckin’ her sweet pussy into my cock, partin’ those soft lips, cryin’ quiet little cries into my mouth, her eyes filled with marvel like I’m pullin’ rabbits out of fuckin’ hats.
How do I get back there with her closed up tighter than a drum?
Liquor and a ride.
That’s what my brothers would say.
Jimmy calls from the pier. “Wanna fish, Charge?”
Yeah. I gotta come at this a different way.
“In a minute,” I call back.
I catch the flash of disappointment in Kayla’s big brown eyes. She ain’t immune to this. Not at all.
“You two eat yet?” I jerk my chin toward Jimmy.
She shakes her head no. “Just got home.”
I reach into her messy bun and work out the tie. This close, I can’t help but put my hands on her. I run my fingers through her hair, and she sways forward. I lean in to whisper in her ear. Not cause what I have to say is a secret, but because I want to smell that sweet vanilla that clings behind her tiny ears.
“I’m gonna fish with the boy awhile. You take a shower. Once you’re done, we’ll go to Broyce’s. Get some steaks.”
Her hazy brown eyes spark with confusion, and a little wrinkle appears on the bridge of her nose.
“I can’t afford—”
I growl. Not much. Enough to nip that shit in the bud.
“It’s a date, Peaches. You don’t pay for no date.”
She’s real confused now.
I have to admit, I’m surprising myself a bit here, too.
“But.” She nibbles her lip. “I can’t. Jimmy—”
“They got crayons and menus you can color.”
She blinks. And there’s a knot in my stomach because I got no control over the situation. And I’m findin’ that I really, really care whether this little slip of a thing will bring her boy to go get some damn steaks with me.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I nod. Like there was no doubt. She turns to go up to her place, but I keep my hand on hers.
“Peaches?”
She cocks her head.
“Wear a dress.” She worries this for a second, the corners of her lips turning down, but then she nods. I think my girl likes bossy.
And damn if I ain’t surprised to find I like bein’ bossy with her. Not my usual laid-back, that’s for sure.
“I’ll send Jimmy up in an hour to get cleaned up.”
She nods and scampers away.
I join Jimmy and Pops on the pier. Jimmy’s good at hookin’ worms by himself now, and he can cast a good ways. Learns quick. Ain’t nothin’ bitin’, though. I set back and watch, listen to Pops and the boy yammer at each other. It cracks me up.
“How’s school?” Pops asks. He didn’t never ask me that. Then again, I wouldn’t have had anything to say. I talked to girls, kept my head down, and stopped goin’ as soon as I could get away with it.
“Good,” Jimmy says. “We got a new class hamster.”
“Yeah? What happened to the old hamster?”
“Teacher says retired, but I think that means dead.”
“I know many a man feels the same,” Pops opines, tipping back his cold one.
I lean back on my hands and let it all go, enjoying the conversation and the silences, filled with the river lappin’ its banks.
I got a crick in my back from sleepin’ leaned against the fence at the site, and blue balls for damn days, but this is peace, man. The water. The sunset. Lookin’ forward to spendin’ time with a pretty girl. And her kid ain’t bad company either.
Peace.
Feels nice. Different.
I ain’t never felt it before, I guess.
CHAPTER 11
KAYLA
“Kayla, slow down.” Sue’s laughing at me.
“I can’t. I have a date. I have to pick a dress. I have to paint my nails. All my nails. I have to—”
“You have to explain to me what’s going on. Are we at DEFCON five? One? Which is the worst DEFCON?”
“Sue!” I shouldn’t have called her. I mean, I am a great multi-tasker, but I can’t get ready for a date and catch her up. Not when I have an hour. And nothing to wear. “I have nothing to wear!”
“Wear your graduation dress.”
“You mean the one I wore when you took me out to Sawdust on the Floor to celebrate my GED?”
“That’s the one.”
“It’s at least two sizes too small now.”
“It’s Lycra. And now it’s gonna be bodycon instead of frumpy as hell.”
I stare into my closet. What it is is the only dress I own that didn’t once belong to Victoria. And all Victoria’s dresses have weird geometric patterns in electric colors or polka dots. Broyce’s has a reputation for great food, but it is a bit of a dive —and a biker hangout late-nights.
I can’t wear polka dots.
“Now how is it that we’ve gone from ‘I’m a slut and that’s somehow a bad thing so I should never speak to hot biker daddy again’ to ‘OH MY GOD!’ in a few shorts days?”
And that there is Sue in a nutshell. She has a way of making my crazy seem…kind of ridiculous.
I take a minute to answer, because honestly, I don’t know.
I hid from C
harge when he dropped by Monday morning, and then I didn’t see him all week. I was disappointed. And relieved. And I felt I’d messed something up, and I wasn’t sure why I did it. By Friday, I’d just gotten to the point where I could think about those moments in his truck when I was alone and not feel panicky. Then, when I pulled up after work, I found him on Pops’ porch.
All the feelings came rushing back, so hard I felt it like a rogue wave at the beach. Slammed in the gut.
Since I’d shoved the feelings deep down instead of figuring them out, I’m left here on my cell, frozen in place, naked except for my one pair of matching bra and panties —both white store-brand from the Megamart—nail polish bottle open and hair half-brushed.
I sigh long. “Oh, Sue. He’s just—” What? Too beautiful to look at? Wildly inappropriate for a girl from Gracy’s Corner? Too good for me? Too old for me?
Probably—likely—trouble and definitely more than I can manage?
“Whatever it is, say it. I’m not a judge. I’m a friend. Always and no matter what.” Sue waits, patient, while I find the words.
“I can’t say no to him.”
She waits. True to her word, she doesn’t jump to judge.
“No, that’s not right. I don’t want to say no to him. I know I’m supposed to be strong and independent, and I’m supposed to value myself and focus on being a mom and…I just want to go out on a date with a hot guy who likes me. I’ve never been on a date before.”
“Damn.”
I sink to the bed. I feel a prickling in the corner of my eyes. I can see Jimmy and the guys from the window, and my stomach clenches again. They seem so relaxed. Charge is sitting with one knee bent, the other outstretched, leaning back against a wooden pile.
Why can’t I be relaxed?
“Why do you say damn?” I ask Sue.
“Because they’ve done one hell of a job on your head, friend.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, number one, making out with a dude in a truck is normal. And being jealous that a dude might have made out with other girls in that truck? Normal. Know what else is normal?”
I sniffle.
“Single moms going on dates. And?”
I sniff again.
“Feeling guilty for doing something you want to do for a change.”
“I want to go on a date!” I’m kind of whining, but it’s Sue. She doesn’t mind. “I want to order dessert!”
Sue laughs. I love her laugh. It’s low and throaty. A worldy-wise laugh.
“Totally normal.” She pauses a minute. “So who’s watching Jimmy?”
“He’s coming with. Charge says they have crayons and a menu you can color on.”
Sue laughs again. “He’s taking you both? Oh, sweetie. How are you going to get laid?”
“I think it’s sweet.”
I do. Really sweet. Oh, crap. Or is it?
This isn’t the way you’re supposed to do this. You’re supposed to wait months before you introduce your kid to the man you’re dating. So as not to traumatize him, let him get attached to someone who’s going to bail. Oh, shit.
“You panicking over there?”
“Yes,” I wheeze into the phone.
“What mind worm is squirming around in that noggin of yours now?”
“You’re not supposed to introduce your kid to the man you’re dating too soon.”
Sue hums like she’s thinking this over. “Can you go out to dinner with a neighbor?”
Yeah. I guess you can.
“Planning on sucking face with him over spaghetti and telling Jimmy to meet his new daddy?”
Well, no.
Sue takes my silence as an answer. “Then get that pretty dress on and go get you some entrée and dessert.”
“It’s okay?”
“It’s okay,” Sue repeats. “And if it goes well, know you’ve got a coupon for a mommy’s night out so you can get laid. Any night there’s not a new Doctor Who.”
And I get hit by a whole new wave of nerves. Not only do I have to screw up the courage to go, now I have to make sure it goes well.
All of a sudden I’m really, really grateful Jimmy is coming along. He’ll break the tension. It’ll be fine. Just neighbors being friendly. Having dinner.
The thought reassures me until I’m ready, and I venture down to the pier, picking my way carefully along the slats in my wedge sandals. I’ve squeezed my ass into the dress Sue suggested, a stretchy pink knit sheath with three-quarter sleeves and a nipped in waist. My boobs look amazing, all squished up and together, but it hugs real tight to my butt and my middle. If I stop sucking in for a second, you can see a little pudge spill over where the waistband of my underwear cuts in. Good thing I’m a pro at sucking it in.
Charge watches me make my way from the stairs, and by the time I reach them, my cheeks are hot. I’ve left my hair down and curled the pieces framing my face, so I try to let my hair fall to hide my blushing.
I stand there, holding my purse close to my stomach and my elbows tight to my sides, hiding what I can, and all three just stare at me.
There goes my idea of Jimmy breaking the ice.
Finally, after a really awkward few seconds, Pops whistles, loud and long.
“Pops!” Charge barks.
“Do we have to stop fishing now?” Jimmy asks.
“Ayup.” Charge takes his pole. “Go wash your hands up the house. I’ll put the tackle back.”
“Thanks, Charge.” Jimmy bounds off to Pops’ place, leaping up the back steps as if he’s lived there his whole life.
I turn Pops’ wheelchair and push him down the pier, following Charge, his hands full of rods and the tackle box. I can’t help but watch him walk, his long stride, his broad back. He’s wearing jeans and black boots like usual, but they’re not mud-crusted like the other day. He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt and his cut, and he has his hair up in a man bun. It’s a little damp, like he showered.
Sue hates man buns; she says she’s never met a man with a bun who didn’t also think he was hot shit and too good for oral.
Sue’s really into oral.
I don’t know as many men as Sue does, and even though Charge has a confidence to him I’ve never been around before, it’s not arrogance.
As for oral…I trip over the toe of my sandal.
“You okay, Peaches?”
Yeah. A shaky giggle escapes. I’m an idiot.
Pops cackles. “Don’t trip and push me into the river, girlie. I ain’t ready to go yet.”
Charge puts the rods back in the garage, and he takes Pops’ to-go order. He gets the truck key and opens the back door for Jimmy and the front door for me, swinging Jimmy up first, and then giving me a hand up to the running board.
“Can I get macaroni and cheese?” Jimmy asks while he buckles himself in.
“Sure baby,” I say.
Before Charge gets in, he takes off his cut, folds it neatly, and sets it on the back seat next to Jimmy. I look a question at him, and he shrugs.
Now I can really make out his broad shoulders and pecs tugging at his T-shirt. He drives spread out, long arm dangling so far over the wheel he rests his forearm on it, his left leg kicked out between shifting gears. I feel small next to him. Dainty. I’m short, but I don’t usually feel…little.
“You been to Broyce’s before?” Charges asks, eyeing me top to bottom. He’s been doing this since I came down to the pier in the dress. It’s making my skin tingle and my tummy dance.
“No. I’ve heard of it.”
“They got good steaks.”
I nod. That’s what I heard.
“So where do the boys usually take you?”
He’s eyeing me seriously now. Catching my eyes and holding them.
My cheeks heat. “Nowhere.”
He chuckles, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Oh, yeah. You kids nowadays just talk. Netflix and chill.”
“I don’t talk to guys. I don’t go out. But you’re right. My parents have dat
e night. Nobody I know goes on dates.”
Charge leans back, his stiff frame eases a touch. A smile curls his lips. “You sayin’ I’m old enough to be your daddy?”
No. I don’t think so? “How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
So not old enough to be my father. But old enough that when he says daddy, my stomach flips.
“You’re saying people your age go on dates?” Thirty’s really not that old.
“I’m sayin’ a man’s serious enough about a woman, he can pony up for dinner. Hear that, little man?” Charge looks over his shoulder at Jimmy.
Jimmy hasn’t been paying a lick of attention. He’s got the soldiers he’s been keeping in the crack of his car seat, and they’re in the middle of a sneak attack on the armrest.
“Huh?” Jimmy blinks.
“Not huh. Yes,” I correct.
“Yes,” Jimmy repeats.
“Damn, woman. You a stickler.”
I shrug. If I don’t keep on Jimmy’s manners, I hear about it from Dad and Victoria. They say I’m not preparing Jimmy for the work world. That children of teen moms are less successful in life because the home environment isn’t up to standards, and I need to be aware of that and do everything I can to counter Jimmy’s natural disadvantages.
I bite the inside of my lip, try to drive that voice away. I don’t want it in the truck with me, not when I’m feeling so excited. Happy.
“Jimmy, you grow up, you like a woman, buy her a damn steak.”
“Okay, Charge.” Jimmy is quiet awhile, and I think he’s dismissing this as weird grown-up stuff, but then he says, “Can I buy her mac and cheese?”
Charge snorts, and I can’t help but giggle. “Son, if it’s the kind they put lobster in, hell yeah. If not, stick to a filet. Chicks love filets.”
When we pull up to Broyce’s, Charge opens the back door for Jimmy, and then he gives me a hand, tucking me into his side once I hit the gravel.
Charge: A Steel Bones Motorcycle Club Romance Page 10