Jessa scoffed. “As if high schoolers give a shit about a bunch of old men riding motorcycles.”
I chucked a banana pepper at her forehead. “We’re not old. Well, I’m not, anyway.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re old. You were born in the 1900s.”
“I nearly died of dysentery on the Oregon Trail,” I deadpanned.
Jessa furrowed her brows. “The Oregon Trail? We live in Texas.”
“You’ve never played Oregon Trail?” I stared at her, holding my chest and pretending to be wounded. “It’s a game where you cross the country in a wagon. You hunt virtual buffalo? Ford the river? It’s educational as shit.”
“Is it on Xbox?”
“Fuck, Iamold,” I lamented.
I cleaned up the kitchen as Jessa sprawled on the couch with Chaos, watching a trashy reality show. She fell asleep within twenty minutes, and I shook her awake before heading off to my own room.
After a shower and careful application of the doctor-prescribed nut cream, I pulled out my phone to read the messages I’d missed while hanging with Jessa.
Merci: How’s it feel to be in the Ivy League?
Me: Your jokes are really planting doubts about how much you love me.
Merci: Trust me. I have an itch that needs scratching, and this vibrator just isn’t cutting it.
Me: I’ll scratch that itch for you. I won’t leaf you hanging.
Merci: I know you won’t. I have to get back to work. I love you.
Me: I love you too.
* **
With two weeks left before all the Maverick kids headed back to school, Rhetta and Eva called for a barbecue at the clubhouse. But I knew their real motive. They wanted to give Jessa the chance to get to know her new extended family.
Thick smoke curled from the massive grill behind the clubhouse, ribs and steaks sizzling under Reaper’s watchful eye. I laughed as he shooed Eva away after she tried to flip a steak before it was ready. Merrick pointed her toward Kenna, who was laying out a variety of side dishes she’d probably whipped up herself.
Chaos played with Brisket and Hawk, along with Tilly, Talia, and Leo, the three dogs doing their damned best to herd the children into a pile.
We started near the makeshift outdoor bar, where Thane sat with Fuse. I thought Fuse being a familiar face might make Jessa more comfortable as we started the round of introductions, though the thought of him being considered comforting was comical. He was the biggest man in the club—and a felon. But I knew his history of protecting girls and women, and there was no one I trusted more.
“Good to see you, kid,” Fuse said, pulling Jessa into a tight hug and lifting her feet off the ground.
She rolled her eyes. “Not a kid.”
“Says the girl who doesn’t even have a driver’s license,” he taunted.
“As soon as Hatchet buys me a car, I’m getting my permit,” she insisted.
Thane reached out a meaty palm to shake. “Thane,” he said. “I’m the president of the Mavericks.”
“Well, hello, sir president,” Jessa said in a sarcastic tone that reminded me all too much of myself. She topped it off with a curtsey.
Thane chuckled, taking her snark in stride. “Sir president. I like that. Tell you what: Rhetta’s been hinting that she wants an Audi. I’ll buy her one, and you can have her Jetta.”
“For real? I have some money saved up. I could?—”
Thane stopped her. “You’re a part of the family now, darlin’. Wetake care of our own. Now, go meet the rest of the club. And if anyone’s an asshole to you—here, in school, on the road, anywhere—tell me. I’ll take care of them.”
