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His shoulders were slightly rounded with age, but his eyes. Those eyes were sharp, and his hands still looked strong.
“Them’s fightin’ words,” Zach drawled, walking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I hear you been in prison,” the guy drawled.
“Yep,” Zach chirped, his tone easy and his hand in mine tight, but not too tight. “Went down for murder.”
The older man’s head tilted slightly, and his long white beard brushed the top of his belly.
“Was it worth it?” he asked.
I hissed in an angry breath, words forming on my tongue before I could stop them.
I growled. “It’s none of your freakin’ business.”
At least I hadn’t said fucking.
The old man’s head tilted with amusement, and the hand around mine squeezed lightly. “It’s okay.”
“That one’s got teeth,” the man teased.
I was getting angrier and angrier the more he spoke.
“She does,” I growled. “And if you don’t stop asking him about that time in his life, I’m going to shove you backward over that motorcycle.”
That’s when there was a dark, husky, rusty chuckle from behind me.
I stiffened even more, turning to find another man behind me.
This one much different looking than the one in front of me.
I now saw where Zach got the ‘tall, dark and deadly’ from.
His father, Cleo, was an exact replica of him.
In twenty-something years, if this was what I had to look forward to when it came to Zachariah Caruso, then I’d be living the dream.
I felt my cheeks heat as I offered the man my hand. “My name is Crockett Archer.”
Cleo, Zach’s father, walked forward and took my hand, his eyes intense as he said, “Cleo Caruso. Nice to meet you.”
He didn’t bother with any more words as he jerked his head toward the road.
“Let’s go.”
“I don’t know if I can ride with a man that isn’t wearing the Dixie Warden colors,” the old man continued.
I glared at him, still not very happy with how he’d teased Zach earlier, even if it’d all been in fun. Even if the man had practically helped raise him.
Zach still wasn’t ‘all right’ with that part of his life. He was coming to terms with it, yes, but I could still tell that his actions for a woman that hadn’t appreciated it bothered him. He’d lost his career, part of his life in prison, and she’d dumped him like the selfish cow that she was.
To make matters worse, she’d come back months later trying to reconcile with a man that just wasn’t the man that she had left behind any longer.
“First you have to heft your ass off that bike and mount your own,” I found myself snarling. “Can you even do that by yourself? Should you be riding a bike at your advanced age?”
“Oh, fuck,” Cleo said from behind me. “Your mother is going to love her.”
I didn’t know what had gotten into me.
I was not acting correctly.
But the man just got on my nerves.
Maybe it was because he reminded me of Murphy. Maybe it was because I knew that I was going to be starting my period any second, and that usually made me way bitchier than usual. Or, it could be that I had wanted a goddamn candy bar in that gas station, and I’d walked out without one.
Whatever the reason, I needed to be nicer.
But I just couldn’t.
“I know.” The old man patted his belly. “And yes, for your information, I can mount my bike. The moment I can’t, I’ll probably be dead anyway.”
I tilted my head.
“Dixie,” Zach said with amusement lacing his tone. “This is my girl, Crockett. Dixie is the oldest man in the Dixie Wardens MC. He’s actually part of who this club was first named after. Another founder, Warden, was club president. Warden died a long time ago. Dixie’s obviously still kickin’… and spittin’.”
I looked at Dixie. “Dixie is an unusual name.”
He shrugged. “It was actually Dixon once upon a time. My wife shortened it to Dixie, and then it all went to hell from there.”
I tilted my head. “Why Dixie?”
Zach groaned. “Don’t answer her.”
“It’s actually a two-part name.” Dixie’s old eyes gleamed.
“Drop it,” Cleo grumbled as he walked toward the bike that didn’t look like it was made for an older man. “Trust me.”
I hurried after him, but the man of the hour continued to talk as if Zach hadn’t even spoken.
“Come on.” Dixie stiffly walked toward the three-wheeled bike that was beside Cleo’s bike. “I need to go sit down in my chair. My bones hurt from riding this far out. If you ever get curious about the name, though…”
I was curious.
Even despite both Zach and Cleo saying to ‘leave it be.’
I was never one to leave it be.
I was curious by nature.
“What’s the other name?” I asked before I could stop myself.
The older man’s eyes gleamed as there was a collective groan from the two people that looked so alike it was eerie.
