Elvira lifted a hand to the side of baby Asher’s head, covering the whole of it but her target was his ear and I knew this when she snapped, “Gwen, shut yo’ mouth. If he don’t grow up commando, how’s he gonna make his fortune, make men quake in their boots and nail down his own fine piece of ass?”
Gwen’s eyes on Elvira bugged out then they went to the heavens. “Someone, deliver me. Or better yet, deliver Elvira. Maybe to China.”
“I don’t mind China,” Elvira told Asher in a baby-talk voice. “They got good food there and they created Jet Li. Now that’s a boy who knows his shit, Asher, and he’s got a kickass name. His Momma couldn’t ‘a made up a better name for a badass. With a name like that, only one route that boy could go down in life, the route straight to badass.” Her head came up and her eyes locked on Gwen before she finished, “Kinda like the name Asher Delgado.”
“My next boy I’m naming Nigel,” Gwen shot back.
“Ha!” Elvira hooted. “Like Hawk would allow that.”
“They’re boys, I get to name them. We have a pact,” Gwen retorted.
“Yeah, you make sure I’m around when you tell Hawk you’re gonna name his kid Nigel. We’ll see about that pact,” Elvira returned.
Gwen looked at me. “Are there weapons in the Compound?”
“Uh…” I mumbled, thinking there undoubtedly were.
“Never mind. Bullets mean questions. Poison, now, poison can go undetected,” Gwen muttered and I grinned.
Elvira dipped her head to whisper to Asher, “Mommy’s silly.”
Tess joined our party at this juncture, sitting at my feet on the bench seat of the picnic table.
“Hey girls,” she greeted.
She got greetings back from Gwen and Elvira with Elvira waving Asher’s little baby hand at her for good measure.
“Thanks for bringing that cake. It was awesome,” I told her.
“No problem,” she murmured, smiling at me.
“Yeah, well, you would know,” Elvira muttered. “Others of us not fast enough or experienced enough with the brethren didn’t get our asses in there to get our piece before the bikers fell on that shit like vultures. You would think those scary biker dudes never had a slice of cake in their lives. By the time I got there, not a crumb left. Not even a swipe of frosting on the plate.” She looked at Tess. “Means you owe me, girl.”
“Honey, I own two bakeries. You can walk in any time and get your fix,” Tess replied.
“Freebie?” Elvira asked.
“You’re the one who always insists on paying,” Tess said by way of answer.
“Well, you got mini-hot guys to raise. I don’t want to be the one who keeps you from keepin’ them clothed. ‘Specially now, seein’ as they’re of the datin’ age.”
Tess closed her eyes in despair at this thought and I knew why. Joel was already dating and Tess was already living her version of the threat of fights, blood, drunkenness, puke and pregnancy scares.
Elvira’s eyes drifted to the congregation in the direction of Joel and Rex who were both standing with Hawk, my Uncle Marsh and Aunt Bette, the visit of the latter two being why we were throwing this barbeque. “Shee-it, they’re growin’ like weeds. I reckon both ‘a them are gonna be taller than their Daddy. And it’s stamped all over them they’re gonna be just as hot.”
“Tell me about it,” Tess murmured, her eyes also on her boys.
I watched Brock walk to that particular huddle and when he got there, he lifted both hands, wrapped them around the backs of both his boys’ necks and, I suspected, he gave them a squeeze before he dropped his hands. After this move, both boys shifted slightly closer to their Dad, not close-close, but the invisible bond had tightened.
Then I watched Brock’s eyes scan the crowd and find Tess. He gave her a sexy smile before he turned away and gave his full attention to the huddle.
Watching this, my belly warmed.
Tack was a good Dad, a good man and a great husband.
I had that, what Tess had. And my kid would have that, what Brock gave his boys.
And I liked that.
Then it penetrated that something was happening. Bikers were moving, a word was drifting through then all the males were shifting toward the open tarmac. I spied Mitch carrying one of those big, long baseball bags, Bud striding beside him, Leo, Camille’s husband, next to Bud, Derek, LaTanya’s boyfriend, next to Mitch.
Holy crap.
Were bikers going to play a game of baseball?
Mara came in from the opposite side to where I was looking, sat on the bench seat by Elvira’s fuck-me shoes as her girl Billie climbed up behind her, got on her knees on the table and peered over Elvira’s shoulder to coo at Asher. At the same Tess’s best friend Martha came to stand beside Gwen.
“Mitch and Bud have struck up a game of baseball,” Mara announced and she smiled up at Gwen, “Not a surprise.”
Holy crap!
I stared as the men congregated.
Bikers were going to play a game of baseball.
“Does Bud sleep with a mitt on his hand?” Tess asked Mara.
“Close enough,” Mara answered.
I watched Mitch turn his head from the huddle and look toward Mara. Then I watched as he gave her a sexy grin too.
Well, I supposed if commandos and police detectives could show at a biker barbeque then bikers could play baseball.
My eyes drifted from Mitch to Brock to Hawk to Tack.
In the beginning, the woman posse took me under their wing.
But now, we were all family. And this wasn’t because Elvira was rabidly friendly.
No, it was because Hawk, Brock and Mitch stormed that house at Tack’s side. This meant, to Tack, they were different kinds of brothers. Not of blood. Not of the cut. But that bond was unshakable all the same.
It was on the more than occasional basis that I was out shopping, having coffee, drinks or dinner with one, several or all of the girls.
It was only occasional but not unheard of that Hawk, Brock and/or Mitch was sitting in the Compound having a beer.
Tack had made his statement. There was no going back now.
Not that I would want to.
Aunt Bette, Meredith, Roberta, Tabby, LaTanya, Tracy and Camille joined our klatch as did Sheila, Mitzi and the other old ladies.
“I take it this is the cheering section,” Aunt Bette noted.
“Seems to be,” Martha murmured.
“Right, before we gotta figure out who we’re cheering for, how ‘bout we get the important stuff outta the way?” Elvira suggested, I looked to her to see her eyes on me and she asked, “When you due?”
My body locked.
“Pardon?”
“Girl,” she said softly, “you’re surrounded by your girls. Do not think that contentment in your eyes is lost on us. The sun is shining. The food is good. The vibe is happy. But that look on your face don’t say sun, food and good company. It also don’t say you got yourself some. It says something a whole lot bigger. Make that vibe happier. When you due?”
I felt eyes hitting me from all around, primarily Aunt Bette’s and Tabby’s.
But Elvira was wrong. I had gotten myself some. I didn’t share that primarily because of Aunt Bette and Tabby.
Not surprisingly, Aunt Bette and Uncle Marsh had outwardly accepted Tack, his kids and my biker babe lifestyle. Though, considering shortly after I entered that world I’d been kidnapped and, later, stabbed five times, I didn’t know what they thought of it.
Nor did I know what they’d think of this added evidence that I was happily mired deep in it.
Still, because Elvira was nosy but she also was right, my girls were around me and outside of Tack (and his badass brothers) there was no safer place to be, I answered, “January.”
“Yee ha!” Elvira hooted, Asher jumping in her arms then his rosy baby lips gave a baby smile as all the women surrounding me cheered, whooped and I got hug after hug.
Tabby’s included her body giving a slight jerk as her breath gave a slight hitch and my arms giving her a not-so-slight squeeze.
My girl was happy she was getting a baby brother or sister. Or, maybe, it was just that my girl was happy for her Dad and me. Or, maybe, both.
My last hug was from Aunt Bette. It lasted the longest and it was the tightest.
“Sometimes it happens in weird ways,” she whispered before she let me go, “but dreams come true.”
Boy, Aunt Bette paid attention to e-mails.
I felt the sting of tears in my eyes and she let me go, looking away quickly and I gave her that play.
Okay, so, I guess Aunt Bette inwardly accepted Tack, his kids and my biker babe lifestyle too.
Good to know.
My dampening eyes found my old man’s.
He was standing, one arm thrown around Rush’s shoulders, but his attention was all on me and he was grinning his sexy grin at me.
Yes, I thought, sitting in the sun, my girls around me, holding his gaze, taking in his smile and carrying his child, Aunt Bette was absolutely right.
Sometimes it happens in weird ways that included fights, blood, drunkenness, kidnappings and pregnancies.
But dreams came true.
“It was good form, your brothers not pulling knives or shooting anyone when Mitch, Brock and Hawk’s team beat your team in baseball,” I noted, lying cuddled naked in bed with a naked Tack in his room in the Compound.
It was late. The barbeque was over. Aunt Bette and Uncle Marsh were at their hotel. Tab and Rush were at home. And Tack and I decided to keep partying in private.
“Lawson didn’t tell me he had a secret weapon,” Tack mumbled. “Fuck, you see that kid hit?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus,” Tack muttered. “Got an arm on him too. He’s only eleven.”
"Motorcycle Man" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Motorcycle Man". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Motorcycle Man" друзьям в соцсетях.