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Easy swiped the hundred dollar bill off the pool table where Bones threw it, lifted it in the air and to the light, checking to make sure it was real.
The newly patched-in member snorted. “If I knew how to forge Benjie’s, I’d be filthy fuckin’ rich.”
“Yeah, shoulda realized you’re too fuckin’ dumb to figure it out.”
Bones bumped Easy’s shoulder and did his goofy guffaw.
“But are you too dumb to challenge me to another game?”
“Fuck no,” Bones answered. “After that, my ass is flat broke. But at least you now got another hundred for your new girl.”
Easy froze. Your new girl?
“When you leavin’ to get your new sled?”
Oh, thank fuck.
His heart finally jump-started. “Headin’ to Jersey next weekend. Since there ain’t a club run next Sunday, we don’t gotta worry about rushin’ back.”
“Bet you’re jonesin’ to go get it.”
“Fantasized about havin’ that sweet, powerful girl between my legs the whole time we were on the run.” His new sled wasn’t the only thing he had fantasized over during the three-hour ride earlier. In fact, most of the time, he’d rode with a half-chub.
If fucking Tessa in the dark made him like that, he was afraid he’d be so goddamn lost if he fucked her in the light.
To see the light and shadows play along her skin, to see the arch of her throat, the way she bit her bottom lip, her dark brown eyes filled with need. All for him.
Yeah, that would take his dreams and fantasies and turn them into Technicolor 3D.
For fuck’s sake, what was wrong with him? He didn’t need to feed his damn habit and fucking her in the light would only do that.
Whip stepped up to the table, a beer in hand. “You gonna name yours like Fallon did?”
If he was, he certainly wouldn’t name her some grandma name like Agnes. “Sure. Gonna call her the Creamed Jeans Machine. Any woman lucky enough to be my backpack will be creamin’ her fuckin’ jeans.”
Anyone within hearing distance burst out laughing.
Easy shrugged.
“You mean creamin’ your own jeans,” Dodge said as he approached with a grin and a beer in his hand, too. “Castle’s out there cuttin’ up the pig. Soon as Syn’s band’s done eatin’ they’re gonna warm up and get playin’.” He turned toward the center of The Barn, cupped a hand around his mouth and yelled, “Grub’s ready!”
Whip whacked Easy in the gut. “Jealous, brother. Would love to get a nicer ride.”
“You just did. You got Fallon.” He shot his younger club brother a smart-ass smile. “Oh yeah, and her Scout, too.”
Whip shook his head. “That’s her ride, not mine.”
“Didn’t look like that earlier. She was your backpack on that sweet sled, not the other way around.”
“Yeah, well, she’s takin’ it when she leaves after Memorial Day.”
With his brow dropped low, Easy spun to fully face him. “Leaves? What the fuck you talkin’ about?”
“Yeah, she’s just stickin’ around for the month so we can…”
Easy’s frown deepened. “So you can what?”
Whip took a sip from his beer bottle, probably to delay his answer. “Figure shit out between us and get settled into the apartment upstairs. Then she’s gonna take a week every month to do her travelin’.”
“You okay with that shit? Lettin’ her go like that?” Who the fuck let their ol’ lady disappear for weeks at a time?
“Do I got a choice?”
“Yeah, dumbass, you’re her ol’ man. You forget that?”
“No, ‘cause I ain’t officially her ol’ man yet.”
“Well, get the fuck on that and once she’s wearin’ your cut, put your fuckin’ foot down.”
“Ain’t like that.”
“It can be if you want it to be.”
“Ain’t gonna do that to her. If I do…” Whip shook his head. “Just ain’t gonna do that to her.”
“So, she gonna tuck your nuts in her purse and take them with her every time she fuckin’ leaves?”
Whip’s jaw became as sharp as a blade. “E, ain’t like that.”
He must have hit a nerve. “Seems like it is. Sounds like you might end up wearin’ a ‘property of Fallon’ cut instead of the way it’s supposed to be.”
“The way it’s supposed to be?” Whip tilted his head as he lifted his beer. “Tell me, brother… Why you hidin’ what’s goin’ on with her?”
Easy quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure everyone had headed outside and that The Barn was now empty. Thank fuck it was. “Who?”
“Jesus, you know who. Is that your decision,” Whip raised an eyebrow at him, “or hers? She got your nuts jammed deep in her fuckin’ pocket?”
Easy ground his teeth and sucked in a slow breath through his nostrils. Around here, if you were going to bust balls, you needed to be able to take a quick shot to your own. He couldn’t take it personally. “Was just a quick thing. It’s over.”
Whip snorted and shot him a smirk. “Yeah, brother, it ain’t over. Wanna know how I know?”
