“I insist,” he presses with one of those over the top smiles. It works. With a sigh, she hands baby Gabe over to beautiful blonde biker Deke. If him holding a baby doesn’t make you swoon, I have no fucking clue what will. Being a dad looks real good on him.
All the girls must feel the same way as me because they stare at him and sigh. Suddenly, with an empty compound and only three men to choose from, Deke seems like the number one candidate for a little carnal relief. And what a relief that would be. I should know. I’ve not only kissed the hottie, but I’ve almost fucked him. I squeeze my legs together at the thought. Fuck, I should have taken Big up on the offer to eat my pussy. I’m sure gonna miss that talented tongue of his over the next few weeks, among other things of course.
“What’s everyone’s plans today?” Candy Cane cuts in, running her fingers through her red locks, and tearing me from my scattered thoughts.
Not having slept well last night, I know I will be taking a nap today. I’m not really in the mood to socialize, considering I have the entire weekend for that. A couple of days relaxing at home with no old man to care for might do me some good. Cooking for one? Yes, please. I should probably hit the grocery though. Chocolate is sounding damn good right about now.
Problem is, ever since my mother’s threat, Big has refused to let me go to the grocery without him or another brother with me for protection. Most of the time, he goes in my place, which means the list I provide him is always highly altered by the time he returns home. Have you ever made a list for your old man to shop with, and no matter how specific you make it, they always screw it up? If you’re shaking your head no, you’re one of the lucky bitches. God love Big, but that man can’t grocery shop for shit. I don’t like shopping any more than he does, but he jacks it up too fucking much. Plus, he spends another forty dollars or more on junk we don’t need.
If I ask for a gallon of 2% milk, I want a gallon, not a half gallon or two half gallons that end up costing twice the amount. If I ask for unsalted butter, I don’t want cheap margarine. I have to give him credit for trying; that’s why I never actually complain. At least not to his face. That’s what the sisters are for. Don’t judge me. You know you do it too. And damn, I would rather do the shopping myself to avoid the mess up. However, Mr. Control Freak doesn’t want me out where the cunt can sink her talons into me. Not really sure what he expects she’s got up her sleeve, but if he’s worried, I guess I should heed his suspicions. He’s not one to go on alert unless it’s warranted. Although my gut says he’s just being overprotective with my bun in the oven and all, I can’t be too careful, I suppose.
“I’m about to take Gabe for a nap, then I dunno what else I’m doin’ today,” Jezebel answers, her eyes not focusing on us, but swapping between Gabe and Miss. H over on the slide playing with her new friends.
Gunz slides up beside me, and lovingly hooks his arm around my neck. “I’m gonna take care of some club biz in the boss’s office. I should be busy for the rest of the day,” he states and tilts his head to rest against mine. “If you need me, you know where I’ll be,” he kisses my temple before letting go and heading to the clubhouse.
“Okay, if you want dinner, come on by tonight. I’ll cook for ya,” I call to his back.
Gunz lifts his hand in the air in acknowledgement. “Kay, Beautiful.”
We finish our small talk, Deke hands Gabe back to Jezebel, and Jez offers to keep Cherry and Ginger for the rest of the day so Miss. H has someone to play with. We say our see ya laters and give small waves before going our separate ways.
I’m halfway home to Big’s house when Deke calls out to me from behind. His white single story house with blue shutters is one over from Big’s. We are next door neighbors, so it’s not like I’m far from home.
I stop and wait for him to catch up. Deke doesn’t even pause when he places his hand to my lower back and silently steers me toward his front porch. The warmth of his palm potently sears through the cotton of my shirt, as I let him guide me up the steps and through his glass front door.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks, leaving me and heading to the open kitchen. I take a seat on a stool at the small peninsula and watch Deke open the fridge. He pulls out a beer for himself and doesn’t wait for me to reply before he twists open a glass bottle of apple cider. He sets it in front of me and leans his hip against the counter, directly across from where I’m sitting. I have to tilt my head back to look at his face. He takes a long drag of his beer, and with a ‘thump’ sits it on the countertop.
I’m not really sure why I’m here. If I had to guess, he wants to talk to me about what went down last night. Doesn’t everyone? Can’t we just forget it? I know I would like to.
I remain quiet, waiting for him to crack through the nervous silence. Deke runs his hand through his hair and sighs.
“We need to talk,” he grinds out, and I watch his green eyes crinkle at the edges, as he squints like he’s deep in thought or maybe its pain. I can’t be sure which.
I gesture with my hand for him to get on with it. I pick up the apple cider and take a swig as I wait for him to tell me why I’m here.
“Last night was uncalled for,” he declares and pauses to rake his hand through his messy hair again. “I shouldn’t have let it happen.” He shakes his head.
Not sure what it is he thinks that he let happen, so I meet his eyes and ask, “Which part do you think you could have controlled?”
Deke’s intense eyes bore into mine, and I can’t help how my heart reacts. Keeping eye contact, he picks up his beer and takes another pull from the bottle. Sitting it back on the counter, I intently watch him lick his lips. The air around us grows thicker. That tongue and those lips. I blink to rid myself of the uncalled for thoughts. I can’t help it. I could be dead and I’d still notice he’s smokin’ hot.
“I shouldn’t have gotten so fuckin’ drunk. I—”
I interrupt not liking where this is headed, “You’re a brother, that’s what y’all do.”
His nose bunches in disgust and eyes narrow, “Just because I’m a brother doesn’t mean gettin’ drunk is a necessity. It’s an excuse to get drunk without consequence,” he intensely explains.
Wow! Pretty sure he’s the only brother that I know who would view it that way.
“Last night was the first brothers’ only party I’ve been to in a long fuckin’ time. Then Gunz starts makin’ out with Niki and fingering her out for everyone to watch. And he bends her over for us to all see that wet snatch of hers. I’m a fuckin’ man. I couldn’t stop myself. I had to watch. Next thing I know I got myself stupid drunk, and I’m watchin’ two of my brothers plow the same bitch. And the sickest shit is I fuckin’ loved it. Then you, lookin’ like you…” he waves his hand up and down, gesturing to my body.
“You come waltzing in all pissed off and fuckin’ hot as shit through the courtyard, headed straight for Prez. And tryin’ to be the better man, I stop watchin’ the fuck show to come to your rescue and get you outta there before shit got too real,” Deke trails off and bends forward. Curling both hands over the lip of the counter, he squeezes till his knuckles turn powder white and grunts under his breath, as his hair falls over his forehead hanging in his face. I watch as the muscles in his neck constrict when he clamps his jaw, clearly pissed off.
Not sure what just came over him or why, I do what I do best and try to comfort him by reaching across the counter and brushing my fingertips over his bleached knuckles. There is no reason for him to be this upset. He didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes I wish he was less emotional. He takes too much shit to heart, especially when he shouldn’t.
“You shouldn’t be mad at yourself. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong,” I softly remind him because it’s true.
Face tilted down, Deke shakes his head, and I keep on rubbing. “I got one whiff of your hair, and my brain stopped registering to get ya away. What kinda man does that shit? Smells a chick and loses his fuckin’ mind?”
My mouth goe
s dry, and I pull my hand back, folding it into my lap. Please don’t tell me he’s hinting at what I think he’s hinting at. That’s the last thing I need to deal with right now.
Unsure of what to say, I remain quiet and let him continue. I don’t have to wait long.
“Your body was touchin’ mine, and I barely heard you screamin’ at Big. I even watched that ugly bitch get on her knees to suck his dick. And all I could think about is what you’d….” Deke scoffs, as he pushes off the counter and darts to the opposite side of the kitchen. Where he stands in front of the window, looking outside, hands tucked across his chest shaking.
“What’s wrong?” I want to go to him, but the way his body is moving, I don’t think it’s a good idea. He’s furious.
“Do you know how many times I spent cleaning up my ex-wife’s messes?!” he howls, still gazing out the blind covered window with his back to me.
I know of some of it, but no I couldn’t answer that. I don’t know why he’s even asking. Is it rhetorical?
Meekly, I reply, “No, Deke, I don’t.”
“I spent years cleaning up after that fuckin’ bitch. And what do I get? Cheated on by a druggy whore, who’s an even shittier mother than she was a wife!”
I know his ex was a bitch, but he’s really got to calm the hell down.
“If you want to talk about her, I’m here to listen,” I offer because I’m not sure what’s came over him. Or what the hell any of this means. Is he having a breakdown? Feeling left out because he didn’t get to go on the run? Too many questions with too many possible answers. All I do know is he needs to take a fucking chill pill. Getting pissed only makes things worse.
Tipping his head to the ceiling, he sighs and dials down his fury. “That’s the goddamn problem. You’re the only woman I’ve ever talked to about my shit. The only woman who’s ever cared. Only woman who’s ever given two fucks about me, my work, my club, my fuckin’ daughters…..everything.”
I know that’s true, but why is he saying this here and now? There is no way I can take more of this emotional shit today. Between last night, Big, and now Deke, I am tapped the hell out. Couldn’t he just wait to talk to me about this? Is it pour your heart out to Bink day or what? Is ‘talk to me’ tattooed to my forehead? I’m willing to bet it is. Fuckin’ A.
To smooth out his intensity, I go for something light. “I’m your friend, and that’s what friends do,” I soothe and bite my lip, praying for a good outcome.
It doesn’t happen. Deke slams his palms into the window frame. I jump as the glass rattles like there’s a storm brewing. In reality there is, except it’s on the inside of the house, not outside. Maybe coming here was a bad idea.
“My friend?” he nearly growls. “You’re a helluva lot more than that to me. You’re the only family I got,” he leans and rests his forehead on the window, smashing the blinds. His cut covered shoulders hunch, tense with evident stress.
“You have this brotherhood. We’re all your family,” I explain evenly. It’s true, we’re all family here. I can’t think of a single sister who wouldn’t talk and listen to him like I have. Honestly, I’m pretty sure some of them would be better at it then me.
“They don’t know me,” he quickly returns. “If they did, your old man woulda kicked me out long ago. I stayed with a junkie, been to prison, and I think I mighta fell in love with my Prez’s old lady.” He laughs bitterly, “Yeah, I’m not someone they wanna be keepin’ around.”
All the air feels like it’s been sucked out of my lungs. I can’t believe he just said that! To regain some sort of normalcy, I curl my arms around my belly and hold on to the only thing that can center me. This can’t be happening. I love Deke, sure, like a hot best friend. But I could never be in love with the man. I don’t really think he’s in love with me either. I mean, how could he be? I’m pregnant with another man’s baby, and we have zero romantic connection. Or I don’t think we do. It’s apparent we are attracted to one another, but that’s merely superficial. I’m in love with Big, even if he’s an asshole part of the time.
I can’t let Deke think this way. If Big ever found out, he would be dead. Deke means too much to me to end up six feet under as worm food. This shit has got to stop right now.
“Deke, you’re mistaking our friendship for more than that. I know we love each other and we’ve grown close. But you can’t be in love with me,” I emphasize. “You’re one of my best friends. Just because you wanna fuck me doesn’t mean you’re in love with me.” Please let this explanation work. It has to sink in.
He doesn’t move from his position at the window. “If I didn’t feel somethin’, then I would’ve stopped last night. I’ve been sick over lettin’ it happen,” he pounds his forehead to the window once again.
“What kinda friend lets someone get hurt when they coulda pulled ‘em away and made it all better? I can’t stop thinkin’ about last night and you and how you felt and how much I wanted you to leave Big for bein’ an ass. That’s how much of a selfish dick I am.” Deke pauses for a beat and grumbles under his breath. “Friends don’t feel that way. Friends don’t think about how stupid the asshole is for not wanting his woman to suck his cock and wantin’ some whore to take her place. Who in the fuck could pass up those hot fuckin’ lips of yours for some skank whore’s, like my ex-wife?”
I think it’s time I leave. This is getting too uncomfortable. My heart is nervously pounding in my chest, and I feel like I might actually throw up from too much anxiety.
What the hell am I supposed to say to him? It’s not like anything has actually went on between us. Sure, he and his daughters come by a lot to check on me, and we watch TV sometimes. Last week we watched How to Train a Dragon in Big’s basement. Big knew he was at the house and didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he didn’t care because of those cameras he has? Or because Cherry and Ginger were present? I can’t be sure. Maybe Big knows how Deke feels? He is pretty intuitive. Fuck, I can’t ask him though. That would be opening a huge fucking can of worms. What is it with all these newer brothers liking me? First Viper and now Deke? It doesn’t make a lick of sense. I’m nothing special. I’m just a woman, and right now I’m a fat pregnant one, which should make me way less appealing. Right now I feel like catnip, and I don’t wanna feel that way.
I place my palms flat on the counter and start to slide off the stool.
“Please don’t,” Deke begs.
How he knows I’m moving without looking this way is beyond me. I scoot back in place and rest my elbows on the counter. At least he asked nicely.
“I didn’t tell you this, Bink, for you to love me back or run away with me. I know that’s not gonna happen. But I’ve spent a fuck load of weeks tryin’ to understand my feelings. Then last night happened, and it all kinda clicked.” Deke finishes and lets out a long yawn.
“Did you sleep last night?” I have to ask. The caretaker in me can’t seem to ever shut up.
He shakes his head, “Nope, not a wink. I was too fuckin’ stressed.”
“Because of your feelings?”
“No…. because of what went down.”
Now I’m confused.
“Ummm… okay…. Big and I kinda got that ironed out this morning,” I explain. Not that I really want to talk to him about Big and I, but if he realizes that it’s sort of water under the bridge then maybe he’ll let go of his own ridiculous guilt. Guilt that he shouldn’t even be feeling in the first place.
“I figured,” he nods his head. “You wouldn’t let him touch you, if you hadn’t. The send-off woulda been a cluster fuck. I just feel like shit that I didn’t stop what went down before it did.”
“That’s not your job.” I’m firm. “It’s Big’s job not to be an asshole. Not yours to clean up his mess.”
“It’s my job to make sure you’re not in pain,” he shoots back.
That’s a sweet sentiment, but what the fuck ever. Since when is my romantic life anyone else’s business but mine and the Neanderthal’s? I know Deke has t
his huge heart, and he allows guilt to eat him alive. He over thinks things too much, kind of like women do. What went down is not his fault. I have no clue how to convince him of that. But allowing him to beat himself up over something that has zero to do with him, and everything to do with Big and I, is not gonna happen. He’s not responsible. If anything, he made things a little better by being there for me. Enough of this dwelling shit. It’s over with, and it’s time to move on.
See, now I’m frustrated. Guess it’s better than anxiety-laden.
“Listen,” I bark, “you’re not to blame. Stop this bullshit about feelin’ guilty. So what if you were horny. So what if you didn’t fix what Big did. So the hell what.” I take a deep breath. “It’s not the end of my world, your world, or anybody’s world. I am gonna live to breathe another day. You’re alive, Big’s still alive, thanks to his groveling, and our lives are gonna keep on truckin’. There is no damn reason to beat yourself up over this. I can’t tell you how to feel about me or how not to feel. That’s up to you. I can tell you though, you are one of my best friends. You’re an amazing man. And you take on way too much responsibility for other people’s actions when you should only be worrying about your own,” I expel it all in one fast paced breath and suck in another lungful of air.
My brash speech must click because Deke pulls away from the window and walks out of the kitchen to me. He doesn’t wait for permission when he grabs me and hugs me like he’s never going to let go. I turn just enough to slide my hands around his torso and hug him back with just as much ferocity.
Minutes pass as we hug in silence. I know he needs this, and if this will help fix whatever demons are battling on the inside, then I will help. Sometimes Deke is his own worst enemy.
Deke kisses the top of my head before he pulls away and my arms break from around his muscled trunk.
I look up, and he peers down, holding eye contact. “I think you need some sleep,” I state.
He nods, “You’re probably right. I’m fuckin’ exhausted.” Deke runs a tired hand through his hair, and as if on cue, he loudly yawns. It’s adorable when his hand covers his mouth, and his eyes become heavy, as he lazily blinks from lack of sleep.
The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3) Page 9