“Grab the rest of the bags,” Merrick ordered. “I need to talk to you about some club business.”
Kenna rolled her eyes. “Always with the shady biker shit.”
I snorted as I scooped up the remaining groceries. I loved watching Kenna sass Merrick. His house had become warmer since she’d moved in. Fewer bike parts, more throw pillows. Less cold pizza, more home-cooked meals.
A pang of envy shot through me. Not because I still wanted Kenna. We were better as friends. But a part of me wanted that.Someone whose eyes lit up when I entered the room. Someone to claim. Someone to sleep beside me for more than just a night.
After setting the bags on the counter, Merrick handed me a folder. I opened it to see balance sheets and business plans. “Thane wants to diversify our revenue streams. Go more legit.”
“Why?”
“Because the old ladies think you’re all getting too old for ‘shady biker shit,’” Kenna quipped as she tossed a vegetable to her lanky Dutch Shepherd, Brisket. He snagged the carrot mid-air and then politely sat as he waited for more.
I flipped through the sheets of paper, which might as well have been written in Russian. “What does this have to do with me?”
“I want you to be my business partner. I trust you more than anyone else. And it would be good for you.”
“Dude, I don’t know what the fuck I’m looking at here. Am I supposed to understand accounting?”
“It’s a gym. Place went under a few years ago and never reopened. It’s up for sale,” Merrick explained. “If you’re in, Thane said the club will invest by paying for sixty percent of it. That leaves us to split the remaining forty.”
“You should have Everest look at the numbers,” Kenna suggested as she chopped an onion. “He’s been looking for an excuse to come visit.”
“Everest?”
“My brother. He’s a big-time CFO at an investment firm. Good with these kinds of business decisions.”
I handed the folder back to Merrick. “If Mountain Man thinks it’s good, I’m in.”
Kenna pointed her kitchen knife. “Don’t call him that. I’ll stab you.”
I held up my hands. “I’m terrified of all five feet of you.”
“Keep going,” she warned. “See what happens. I know ten ways to kill a man without getting caught.”
Merrick wrapped an arm around her. “And I know ten ways to hide a body.”
Dinner was full of laughter and conversation. Kenna ribbed me while Merrick kept the cold beers coming. It was the kind of night that reminded you that blood didn’t run in your veins. That the people who mattered most were the ones who had your back, no matter what.
Afterward, Merrick and I walked the trail that led to the clubhouse from his house. He and Reaper had cut paths through the fifty-some acres owned by the club for Kenna and Eva to walk their dogs. The overprotective bastards didn’t like to let their old ladies leave their sight, especially since both had survived violent encounters at the hands of other men.
By the time we strolled up to the clubhouse, a bonfire was burning high, and the unexpectedly cool June night had the entire club outside. Over the raucous laughter, the chorus of wildlife swelled—cicadas, katydids, and crickets singing along with the occasional howl of a coyote.
Thane stood, lifting his whiskey to get everyone’s attention. The chatter died down in an instant.
“Mavericks,” Thane started, his gravelly voice thick with the authority that made him a strong president. “Coast hasn’t been a prospect long, but he’s proven loyalty, strength, and grit. He’s earned his patch.”
Cheers erupted. Coast looked both proud and uncomfortable with the attention. Thane slapped the patch against his chest before clasping his neck in a rough hug.
“And, it’s also time to patch in Bayou.”
Hoots and hollers sounded from the men. Bayou had hung around the club longer than most. He had insisted he wait to prospect once his life settled after gaining full custody of his daughter and working through the courts to ensure his ex never saw the light of day after what she’d let happen to their little girl.
“We’ll need more prospects now,” Reaper joked. “Somebody’s got to clean up this shit in the morning.”
“Yeah,” I laughed. “I’m sure as fuck not doing it.” I stood, ready to grab another beer.
“Get the Woodford,” Thane barked to no one in particular.
