by Wilder, L.
“I could definitely go for that,” Darcy answered. “I haven’t been since I was a kid, but I had a blast.”
With a hopeful look in her eye, August turned to Gunner and asked, “Hey, babe. Would you and the guys take us to float the buffalo next weekend?”
“Umm…I don’t know about that,” Gunner answered, sounding less than enthused. “We’ve got a lot going on down at the garage.”
“Come on. It would be fun,” August pushed. “Besides, it’s the weekend. You guys could use a break.”
Gunner nudged Rider. “You hearing this?”
“Um-hmm… I’m with you.” Rider’s eyes skirted over to Darcy as he said, “We’ve gotta a lot of work to do.”
“You both know I work at the garage, too,” Darcy fussed. “I know we aren’t that busy. If you don’t wanna go, just say so.”
“Canoeing is my kind of thing,” Rider told her.
“That’s all you had to say.” Not giving up so easily, Darcy turned her attention to Beckett. “Hey, T-Bone…What about you? Would you take us to float the Buffalo next weekend?”
A mischievous smirk crossed his face as he replied, “A canoe full of hot women in bikinis? Are you kidding me? Hell, yeah. I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”
“Oh, hell no,” Gunner argued. “No way that’s gonna happen.”
“What?” August fussed. “You don’t want to go, so what’s wrong with…”
“August, this isn’t up for discussion,” Gunner cut her off.
“But…”
“But nothing. If my ol’ lady is going somewhere, I’ll be the one taking her.”
A hopeful smile crossed August’s face as she asked him, “Does that mean you’ll take us to float the river?”
“Nope.” Gunner smiled. “But, I’ll take you anywhere else you wanna go.”
“Oh, good grief.” She gave him a silly look. “Just forget it. We’ll figure something else out.”
“I’m sure you will.”
While I was a little disappointed that the trip to the river wasn’t going to pan out, it was fun talking to the girls about our other options. By the time we were all ready to call it a night, we’d come up with several good options, but before we made a final decision, we decided to check with the other ol’ ladies to see if they’d like to come along. Even though it was because I was Clay’s sister, it still meant a lot to me that they’d even think of including me. When it came time for them to pack up and leave, I gave them each an arm-full of leftovers and thanked them once again for all their help.
After I watched them each back out of driveway, headed back inside to finish cleaning up. I was about to start washing dishes when I heard a commotion in the backyard. When I went to see what was up, I found Beckett picking up empty bottles and trash and tossing them into the trash. As I stepped outside, I told him, “Hey, I thought you’d already gone.”
“I thought I’d help you clean up a bit first.”
“Thanks, but I can do that.”
He continued cleaning up like I hadn’t said anything. “You got any more trash bags?”
“Yeah. Let me grab one from the kitchen.” I rushed inside, and once I’d grabbed a couple, I took them back out to Beckett. “Here ya go.”
I grabbed a couple of empty bottles, and he opened the bag as I tossed them inside. He continued on to the next few bottles, and as he picked them up and tossed them into the trashbag, he asked, “You have a good time tonight?”
“I had a blast. What about you?”
“Yeah. I had a good time.”
He threw some more trash into the bag, then looked over to me as I said, “We didn’t get much time to talk.”
“No, we didn’t.”
A smile crept across my face. “Maybe we can rectify that.”
“Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”
“Well, we could have a drink now, or you could come back one day night week and I could fix you dinner or something. Let you tryout my cooking.”
When he didn’t immediately answer, I thought he was going to turn me down, but then he surprised me by saying, “How about both?”
“Both would be great.” I walked over to the cooler and grabbed a couple of drinks, then walked back over to Beckett. As I offered him one of the beers, I told him, “Just leave that. I’ll get it in the morning.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, you’ve already gotten most of it.”
Beckett followed me over the lawn chairs the guys had brought, and we sat down. Like the times before, our conversation came easy. We talked about everything from what he was working on down at the garage to how nervous I was about starting my internship. I found it strange how much I enjoyed being with him, but no matter how strange it might’ve seemed, he had a way of setting my mind at ease and making me feel safe in a way no man ever had. It was a thought that made me want to get to know him a little better.
“Okay…so, I got a question for you.” I took a sip of my beer and smiled. “Actually, I have a few questions, if you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for it.” He opened his beer and took a drink. “Whatcha got on your mind?”
“Just a couple random questions, but as one friend to another, I’ll warn ya. Think before you answer.” His brows furrowed as he considered what I said, and I knew I had him. With a big smile, I crossed my legs and leaned towards him. “Are you ready?”
“Bring it, friend.”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
“Seriously?”
“You said you were up for it,” I pushed.
“Well, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific.” He cocked his eyebrow, and a felt a little chill rush down my spine. “Are we talking about a recent movie or an old one? Specific genre or whatever?”
“You’re overthinking it.”
“Well, you told me to think before I answered, sooo.”
“Touché. Let’s just say you all-time favorite. Any genre. Any time frame.”
“Okay, then I’d say Rio Bravo.”
“Hmm. John Wayne. My dad loved his movies… How about your favorite band?”
“That depends. Are we talking about …”
“Beckett,” I fussed.
“Okay. When I’m out riding, it’s Metallica all the way. If not, then, I’m pretty much an 80’s guy.”
“Enter Sandman.” I smiled.
“So, you know them?”
“A little. Clay used to listen to them when we were growing up.”
He nodded. “The Unforgiven is one of my favorites, but Enter Sandman is a close second.”
“Good to know. And one last question…How old were you when you got your first kiss?”
“Eleven or twelve.” He shook his head with a snicker. “Damn. That was a really long, fucking time ago.”
“You got yourself an early start.” I took a sip of my beer hoping it would help ease the sinking feeling that was growing in the pit of my stomach. “I was fifteen before I had my first kiss, and it wasn’t all that great.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was just the fact that I didn’t know what I was doing or maybe it was because the guy had braces. Either way, it was pretty terrible.”
“Nothing worse than a mouth full of metal.” He chuckled as he said, “Well, I hope your other firsts weren’t as bad.”
That sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach plummeted, making me regret ever bringing up the first kiss question. I’d enjoyed our light-hearted conversation, and the last thing I wanted to do was damper it by delving any deeper into the ‘firsts’ conversation. Even though I wasn’t ready for the night to end, I figured it was best to keep things on a light note, so I yawned and stretched. “As much as I’m enjoying this, it’s getting kind of late.”
“Yeah. It is.” Beckett stood and took my empty bottle from my hand, tossing it into the trash. “You need any help with anything before I go?”
“No, thanks. You’ve already done
enough.”
He nodded, then paused as he studied me for a moment. I would’ve given anything to know what was going through his head at that moment, but I was left completely in the dark as he turned towards the back gate. “I’ll see you around, freckles.”
“Hey… wait a minute.” I rushed over to him. “What about dinner?”
“You don’t have to go to any trouble.”
“But I want to…You know, as a way to thank you for everything, and maybe, you could give me your thoughts on a new French recipe I’ve been working on for work.”
He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. I’d be up for that. Just name the day and time, and I’ll be there.”
“How about tomorrow night around six?”
“I’ll be here.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
Once he was gone, I finished cleaning up and went to bed. The next morning, I woke up late, and I was fighting a fog when I remembered that I’d invited Beckett over for dinner. I sat up in the bed with a panic. Damn. I wasn’t the least bit prepared. I had no idea what I was going to cook. I didn’t even have groceries, and I wasn’t even sure if I had enough pots and pans. It was a thought that had me jumping out of bed and rushing into the kitchen. I looked through all the cabinets, and the second I saw my grandmother’s old, cast iron stew pot, I knew exactly what I would make for Beckett. My Louisiana French-Creole recipe was a family favorite, and with all the crawfish, shrimp, sausage and corn, I hoped Beckett would love just as much as they did.
I pulled out the pots and pans that I would need, then made a list for the grocery store. Once I had everything planned out, I rushed back to the bedroom and after I threw on some clothes, I headed to the grocery. Since I didn’t have any of the basics, it took me a while to gather everything, and by the time I got back to the house, it was already after three. I knew once I started cooking it would be hard to stop, so after I put the groceries away, I showered and got dressed. I decided to just keep it simple and wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with my hair pulled up. I put on a little makeup, then rushed into the kitchen to start cooking.
The roux was the most complicated and the most essential step to my gumbo, so I decided to start there. I got out my grandmother’s pot, along with the butter and flour, and got to work. I’d just started getting the roux where I wanted it when there was a knock at the door. I glanced over at the clock and groaned when I saw that it was almost five. I pulled the pot off the burner, then went to answer the door. When I opened the door, I found Beckett standing on my front porch, and his was looking hot as molasses in his black t-shirt and jeans. I smiled at him as I said, “Hey, Beckett. Come on in.”
He nodded then followed me into the kitchen. He placed a bottle of wine on the counter as he said, “I brought wine.”
“I see that. Thanks.” I motioned my hand at the huge mess I’d made. “I’m sorry. I’m running a little behind.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Would you mind dicing up some onion, a red pepper, and the celery?”
“Sure.” He went over to the sink and washed his hands, then opened a couple of cabinets until he found the cutting board. I started working on the stock while he got busy dicing. After several minutes, he asked, “So, what are we making?”
“Gumbo.”
“Seriously?” he asked sounded pleasantly surprised. “I haven’t had gumbo in months.”
“So you like it?”
Beckett chucked as he stuck his belly out and ran his hand over it. “Can’t you tell? There’s not many things I don’t like.”
“Hush. You look great.”
“If you say so.” I continued to stir the stock as he asked, “You mentioned that you’ve been cooking since you were a kid, right?”
“Yeah. Or maybe I should sat I started trying when I was just a kid. It took some time before I was any good at it.” I glanced over my shoulder and smiled. “What about you? Do you like to cook?”
“I guess you could say I know my way around the kitchen, but I don’t really cook all that often.” He shrugged. “Just don’t have the time.”
“So, what do you do with your free time?”
“I don’t get much of that, but when I do, I usually take the bike out. Do a little riding with a couple of the brothers. Usually ride down to the lake or just spend the day checking out the back roads.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“You should go with us sometime,” Beckett offered.
“I would really like that. I walked over and gathered the vegetables Beckett had diced, then added them to the stove. As I stirred them into the roux, I continued, “It’s been ages since I’ve been able to ride.”
“We’ll have to rectify that.” He walked over, and as he peered over his shoulder, he said, “It smells great.”
“Oh, we’re just getting started.” I motioned my hand over to the sausage and asked, “Would you mind cutting those for me?”
“Sure. No problem.” He walked over and got busy cutting once again. “So, did you girls ever decide on what trip you wanted to take?”
“No. They were kind of all over the place.”
“They usually are,” he joked. “But they definitely keep things interesting.”
“I’m sure they do.” I added the garlic to the roux, then slowly started adding the stock. “I bet you all have a great time over at the clubhouse.”
“We do.” He nodded. “Some greater than others.”
“I can still remember the times my dad took me over to see my uncle, Viper, at his clubhouse. There was always music playing in the bar, and the guys were either all goofy and being silly, or they were deadly serious, making me almost scared to even be in the same room with them.”
“I get that. I’m sure the girls would say the same was true with us.” Beckett started prepping the corn and other vegetables as he said, “Guess you could say there’s a time and place for everything.”
“Viper would definitely agree with you there.” I went over and collected the other vegetables from Beckett. “Thanks for helping. I’m really sorry I didn’t have it all ready when you got here.”
“Don’t be. I’m enjoying watching the fancy, French chef do her thing.”
“Ha! I’m far from fancy, and I’m still learning the ins and outs of French cuisine.”
“You’re a smart girl. I’m sure it won’t take you long to figure it out.”
Beckett and I continued to banter back and forth as we put together the best gumbo I’d had in years. We ate outside under the stars, and I couldn’t remember a night when I’d enjoyed someone’s company as much as I had his. I hated for the night to end, but it was getting late and Beckett had an early morning. On his way out the door, he gave me a quick hug and thanked me for dinner. I stood in the door and watched as he walked over and got on his motorcycle. Damn. I’d never seen a sexy sight than that man on that black, Harley motorcycle. Just looking at him had my hormones raging to life. I closed the door, and as I headed to bed, I knew I was going to have all kinds of good dreams.
CHAPTER 5
T-Bone
“Gotta be there before ten.” We were all sitting around the conference table, listening as Gus went over the plan for our upcoming run. We’d been doing the pipeline with five of our other chapters for the last couple of years, each club contributing to make one big take, and I had to admit, things had been going very well. We’d all made a fuck-load of money, and we had every intention of continuing our success. With that in mind, we were all ears as we listened to Gus continue, “That’s earlier than usual, so we’ll need to leave out around four in the morning instead of seven.”
Clearly concerned, Moose’s eyes narrowed as he asked, “What’s with the change?”
Moose was the club’s VP, and just like Gus, he was always careful, wanting to make sure that nothing put the club at risk. Knowing Moose like he did, Gus didn’t seem surprised by his question. Instead, he simply answered, “Ronin said
there was an issue at the dock last week…Something to do with the water quality or some shit around the inlet we’ve been using, and they’ve got the coast guard monitoring the number of boats coming in and out.”
“How the hell are we supposed to get around that shit?” Murphy asked.
“Ronin assured me that he’s got it covered, and he’s never given me reason to think that he doesn’t.” Ronin was out main distributor, and he was an invaluable asset to the club and our pipeline. Once we received the shipments from our other chapters, it was up to us to deliver the goods to him where he would distribute them to our buyers. Even when times got tough, Ronin had always pulled through for us, so it was no surprise that Gus had such faith in him. After a brief pause, Gus looked out to us and said, “I still want you boys to take every precaution, make sure you do your part to make sure this run goes off without a hitch.”
“You know we will,” Murphy assured him.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” As he stood to dismiss church, he looked out to us and said, “You know what needs to be done to get things ready for the morning. Make sure it gets done.”
“Understood.”
As soon as Gus left the table, we knew church was over. Each of us left the conference room and headed to get things ready for the run. It was the same every time—inspect the weapons and ammunition, check the contents of each crate, and prep the trailers we’d use to haul the load. We all did our part to get everything sorted for each and every run. Murphy and I had just finished checking the weapons and ammunition with Hyde, when Shadow, the club’s enforcer, came over to us. “Everything set?”
“Yeah. We’re all good here.”
“Good. I’ll let Gus know.” He glanced over at Clay for a brief moment, then asked, “How’d it go with the move the other day?”
“I think it went pretty good.” It had been almost a week since the party, and even though I hadn’t seen her since that night, I could still remember the smile on her face when she talked about her place. “She seems happy with it.”
“She’s more than happy,” Clay added. “Hell, I haven’t seen her that excited since she was a kid.”