“Yep.”
Tempi shook her head and laughed.“I’ll give it to you, Wheels.When Twister gives you an order, you really listen.”
The main room of the clubhouse looked like hell had passed through and left cigarette butts behind.The tables had been moved around.A few chairs were stacked near the wall.There was still plywood over one of the busted windows, and the smell of coffee, cleaner, and gunpowder lingered in the air, no matter how much Gramps had sprayed whatever industrial-strength lemon crap he’d found under the sink.
Hodge sat at the bar with one elbow propped on the counter and a scowl carved into his face.Nugget was near the pool table, half lying across it like he’d been awake too long to care about proper furniture use.Gramps had a broom in one hand and a look on his face that said he was one dropped beer bottle away from murder.
Swift sat on the couch with Britta tucked against his side.She looked better than she had after being shot, but still tired.Her shoulder was healing, but I knew Swift was watching every move she made like he could keep pain away by glaring at it hard enough.
Twister stood near the bar, phone in hand, talking low to someone.He looked up when we came down, eyes flicking to me, then to the stairs behind me.
I gave him a short nod.
Goldie was awake.
He nodded back.
That was all we needed.
Tempi set her mug on the bar and clapped her hands once.“I’m going to start the burgers.You want one?”
I scoffed.“Make it two.”
“Burgers?”Hodge called, sitting up straighter.“I want two.”
“Me, too,” Gramps and Nugget said in unison.
Gramps immediately turned and glared at Nugget.“Don’t copy me.”
“I didn’t copy you.I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“Because I’m growing.”
“You’re a grown-ass man.”
Nugget shrugged.“Spiritually growing.”
Hodge pointed at him.“That might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Not even top ten,” Swift muttered from the couch.
Britta laughed and pressed her face against Swift’s shoulder, probably trying not to pull at her stitches.
Tempi pointed toward her.“You better get your ass in here, girl.I’m going to need help making thirty burgers.”
Britta pressed a kiss to Swift’s cheek and pushed up from the couch.Swift’s hand went immediately to her hip like he was going to help her stand.
She gave him a look.He lifted his hand, but not far.
“I’m fine,” she told him.
“Didn’t say you weren’t.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I think a lot of things.”
