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He shrugged his shoulders and turned his back to the bar before drawing in a big breath and then exhaling heavily. “I hate that you’re here,” he muttered. “Gonna see some shit and wish you hadn’t.”
“It’ll be okay; I’m a big girl, Grady.”
He nodded and walked away without getting a drink. I wondered if he was worried about what I might see Trip doing, or maybe my brother. Both of those options were negated when I saw Grady cozy up to one of the club girls. He took her to the corner where he thought they might be out of my view, and he was right. I wished I hadn’t seen that because I knew Grady’s old lady and she was a sweet woman who didn’t deserve his infidelity. Then again, who was I to judge? I didn’t know their life or what they’d agreed to.
“Whatever you see here, stays here,” Ratchet warned as he saw where my attention had been.
“I know that.”
“You don’t get an opinion,” he reminded me.
“Know that, too.”
“Good. Are you sure your up for this. He’s not going to be the only one you have to see going wild tonight.”
I smirked at the club president. We already had this talk three times during the week. “Nothing anyone does here tonight is remotely my business unless you want to count the drink requests that come in.”
Ratchet knocked on the bar with his knuckles and gave me a dubious look before walking away. He was worried that seeing Tripp act a fool with the club girls was going to throw me into a tailspin. I knew where Tripp and I stood though. He was the father of my baby and my sometimes friend without benefits. That was where we’d drawn the line at the doctor’s office visit earlier in the day.
It had broken my heart and put it back together again to see how he reacted to hearing our baby’s heartbeat. The man cried and didn’t even bother to apologize for it. I guess maybe it made things real for him, finally. He kept his promise and paid for the visit, plus he prepaid the rest of the bill for the entire pregnancy. The nurse told me that the only reason I would owe anything after having the baby was if there were extenuating circumstances, I was hospitalized longer than required for typical recovery, or had to have some sort of medical intervention during birth.
I was shocked, and curious as to where Tripp got the money to shell out that much at once. Up until today, he was a prospect which didn’t pay anything. Outside of that, he worked at the club’s garage part time. That didn’t seem to be very lucrative work to me. Then again, Ratchet was paying me a lot of money to sling beers, whiskey, and occasionally stick around long enough, or come in early to get breakfast going on the weekdays.
“Can I get a whiskey neat, babe?” A man asked as he looked me over. My overlarge boobs tended to hide the fact that my belly was growing, and true to form, that was where the man’s eyes seemed to stick. His road name was Sparkles, according to his cut. I wanted so badly to ask why. He was a nomad too, which meant he wasn’t from this clubhouse and instead floated between all of them.
He laughed as I handed him his glass. “You can ask.”
“I’m honestly afraid to know.”
His laughter grew as he threw his head back and really let loose. It was attractive on him, even though normally I would consider him ruggedly handsome at best. The years on the road in the sunshine, smoking, scars, and hard living were stamped all over his face, but I bet he had been handsome as fuck when he was younger.
“The day I was patched in, I came from my buddy’s bachelor party at a strip club. Had glitter all over every inch of my skin, in my hair,” he rubbed his bald head before adding, “had a lot more of it back then. And that sparkly shit was all over my prospect cut. I hear tales that they never could get it all out. Some prospect in the Nashville Chapter is still wearing stripper glitter to this day.”
It was my turn to laugh, and it felt good to finally be able to just cut loose and feel happy. “That right there is a beautiful sight.” He pointed at my face as my laughter died down.
“No flirting with our bartender, Sparkles.” Ratchet warned as he passed by.
Sparkles ignored him. “Why the hell would I get a warning about you? Don’t see anything saying as you’ve been claimed.”
“I’d like to know the answer to that shit, too.” I turned to see Wicked, the National President of the Savage Vipers MC. No one had warned me that we would have other officers in tonight. Ratchet must have heard the question, and turned back around to address it, but he didn’t get there fast enough. Wicked grabbed hold of my wrist and started to tug me until I was pulled belly-first into the bar with him on the other side trying to get me to slide over.
“If you’re a club girl, then bring those luscious tits over here. I want to taste.”
“No!” I yelped. Sparkles put his hand out on Wicked’s wrist in warning when he saw my reluctance. That didn’t stop the other man, though.
“Wicked!” Ratchet’s voice boomed.
“The fuck is going on here?” Wicked asked as he finally released my arm. I stepped back until my back was up against the shelves that housed all the liquor.
“She’s not a club girl,” Ratchet stated coolly.
“Then who does she belong to?”
“The club,” Ratchet answered.
“That makes her a fucking club girl then. Has she or has she not been claimed?”
“No. She hasn’t been claimed.”
