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Trip’s eyebrows rose. “That ain’t enough?”
“Truthfully, if you accept my proposal, what you gave me will keep me busy for a while.”
Thank fuck.
“You stayin’ in town while you do this?” Trip asked. His gaze sliding between Ozzy and Shay. “Or you headin’ back to wherever you’re from?”
“I—”
“Figured you’d want her to stick around here,” Ozzy said quickly. He gave Trip a look to remind him about her missing father and also about the text he sent earlier about keeping her around while she did the work.
“Yeah. That’s right. That would be best.” Trip leaned back in his chair again. “Be easier that way. Long as you don’t got anything pressin’ at home.”
“I don’t, I—”
“You can work downstairs, if you want, in our church. Can set up an area for you. You’d have full access to our kitchen, plenty of food, booze, the pavilion. You need anythin’ and one of the prospects or a sweet butt can get it for you. You would never be hungry, thirsty or have a lack of company.”
“Sweet butt?”
Deacon made a sound across the table. “Remember that list I was beginn—”
“Will explain it later,” Ozzy quickly cut him off.
Her eyes flicked from Deacon back to him.
“Anyway,” Trip continued, “you got room for her to stay at the motel?”
“Hadn’t checked for longer than tonight yet,” Ozzy answered him.
Shay twisted in her seat to face him. “See? If your reservation system was online, you could log in and check from here.”
“Yeah, see? You could manage the motel everywhere you go. No excuses,” Trip said.
“Christ,” he muttered under his breath. Like he needed another strand in the rope already strangling him.
“Well, if there ain’t room at the motel, got an empty room here in the bunkhouse.” He turned to Shay. “Ry said it’s a lot like dorm livin’ but with a buncha rude, filthy pigs. You’d have your own room, a private shitter and, again, you’d have access to everythin’ in the barn, the kitchen and the rest of that shit.”
Why the fuck would Trip allow a woman to stay in the bunkhouse? One of the rules was no women overnight. Now he was suddenly changing that up? Fuck that.
“No,” Ozzy said, shaking his head.
A single eyebrow crawled up Trip’s forehead. “No?”
“Got it covered.”
“It’s an option. Better than turnin’ down a payin’ guest.”
“Oh, I can pay—”
Once again, Trip cut her off. “Ain’t payin’ if you’re workin’ for us.”
“Well, technically…”
“While you’re here workin’ on our shit, you’re workin’ for us, means you ain’t payin’. We got everythin’ you need covered so that ain’t added to the cost.” He turned back to Ozzy and said firmly, “You ain’t gotta room available for her, she can stay here.”
“Got it covered,” he insisted, giving Trip a look.
The Fury prez grinned. He was just being a dick.
“All right, just see that you do. But she can work downstairs if she wants. Plenty of space to stretch her legs when she needs it. Up to her.”
“Once I get all the details of the businesses and take some photos, I only need an electrical outlet and strong WiFi.”
“Got that here,” Trip assured her.
“Got that at the motel, too,” Ozzy reminded Trip.
“But the office there is tiny and got guests comin’ in and out. And just sittin’ in a small motel room would get depressin’. Lots of sunshine and fresh air out here.”
Why the fuck was Trip pushing this? “Same fuckin’ sunshine and fresh air over at the motel,” Ozzy muttered.
Deacon made a sound and when Ozzy glanced at him, the asshole was wearing a huge grin that needed to be wiped off his fucking face.
The prez continued, “Plus one of the ol’ ladies is always around if she gets lonely.”
Ozzy’s jaw shifted. “She ain’t gonna get lonely.”
Trip rapped his knuckles on the table and stood. “Well, anyway… her choice.” He glanced at Shay who had remained quiet during that whole exchange. “Your choice. Our home’s your home while you’re here. Lot of us live on the farm, so it could be safer, too.”
“Safer?” she asked. “From?”
For fuck’s sake, he had to go there. As far as they knew, right now the mountain was empty and the Shirleys a distant memory. The club currently had no threats.
“From… life,” Trip answered. “Shit happens. That shit’s less likely to happen here.”
Wearing a frown, she turned to Ozzy. “Is Manning Grove no longer safe? When I was growing up here, the only threat was…” She hissed out a breath.
“Was?” Trip prodded. The man already knew the answer. So did Ozzy and Deacon.
“Your club,” she finished weakly.
“Not our club,” Trip corrected. “The Originals’. But yeah. For the most part, the Grove is safe.”
“The Fury don’t terrorize the town like the Originals used to,” Deacon added, oh-so-fucking helpfully. “We’re all pussycats. Meeeeeow.”
“Shoulda stopped at ‘pussy’ and spoke for yourself,” Ozzy told him.
“Holy fuck, you didn’t expect to get it easy when it came to your turn, did you?” Deacon asked while laughing. “Don’t remember you breakin’ out the lube when it came to the rest of us.”
