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“Things are coming along well with the new chapter?” Mark asks, his eyes honing in on Gabriel’s in a way that makes me feel invisible.
I feel like there should be a rule about no club talk at an engagement party, though I suppose it’s our fault for coming early.
Gabriel gives a curt nod. “Dally’s stepping up as vice president and already has new recruits on the roster. We’ll start bringing them in over the next few weeks. Then we can begin renovations on the clubhouse in Whitfield, make it part of the initiation.”
Gabriel and the boys went north last week to check out a few potential towns to settle in, and I guess Whitfield was the most ideal of the bunch. A bit like Blackmoor but a bit bigger, and apparently, there’s an opening for a biker club to move in there. No rival gangs nearby in any direction to start a turf war with. Plus, it’s close enough to Boston that the shipping end of the business might really thrive there. Though I know Gabe would prefer to stay in the garage.
“Found a good vacant warehouse on the port side of town that will work well as the clubhouse and garage.” Gabriel accepts the beer Starla hands him as she returns, and I take the cool bubbly concoction she gives me.
“Daddy, no business talk today. It’s their engagement party.”
I could kiss Starla. Instead, I settle for a smile. “What’s in this concoction you made me?”
“Sparkling water, strawberry, and mint,” she says with a twinkle in her eye.
I take a tentative sip and moan with appreciation. “It’s brilliant. Thank you.”
The clubhouse starts to fill up as guests arrive. It’s strange to feel like the center of attention in this crowd. I’d done extravagant birthday parties and such when I was the daughter of Jack Romero. But that was when I only had to put on a face and pose. Engaging in conversations, accepting congratulations that come with enthusiastic hugs, and tearful conversations about hearing that we’re leaving, that’s all new to me. I’m so thankful I have Gabriel’s arm to lean on for it because I’m amazed at the outpouring of affection.
And Gabriel stays glued to my side, his hand resting on the small of my back as we talk to Jeremiah and Debbie, Max and Jada, Jan, Penny, Pete, and so many others I lose track of it all. As my feet start to grow tired, Gabriel pulls me over to the couch to rest. The guys find us there, hovering around us in a protective circle as they joke endlessly about what life is going to be like when Gabriel’s president.
“He’ll probably make us do all the heavy lifting so he can putz around in the garage all day,” Dally says, a devilish grin on his face.
“Why do you think I made you vice-prez? Now I don’t have to worry about business. I know it’s in good hands. And if you fuck it up, then I’ll just replace you with Knuckles,” Gabriel comes back.
“Fuck you. I’m your cousin. First, you pick Dallas over me, and now you’re telling me you’d put Knuckles in charge next?” Rico gripes.
“Don’t be such a baby. It’s just that you two grew up together. Gabe knows how unbearable you are. Why would he want to keep you any closer than he absolutely has to,” Knuckles says, punching Rico’s arm.
Suppressing a giggle, I turn my eyes toward my stomach as I rest my palm there. It’s strange. I haven’t really begun to show yet, maybe just the start of a baby bump, but I canfeelit. The baby. Weighing me down just ever so slightly.
“Shall I rescue you from these buffoons?” Starla asks, stepping up next to the arm of the couch I’m resting my elbow on. Her eyes flicker around the group of boys teasingly, and it might just be me, but I feel as though they linger an extra second on Dallas.
But then her hazel eyes meet mine, and I’m sure I’ve imagined it.
“Yes, please,” I say, uncurling from Gabriel’s side. I plant a kiss on his cheek as I stand to join Starla as she wanders toward the bar and the high-top swivel chairs.
“This is such a great party,” I say, looking around the room affectionately at all the people gathered there, chatting and laughing, in celebration of our engagement.
“We had to do something for you,” Starla insists. “And I thought it might be too soon to go broadcasting about the baby.” Her eyes dip down to my stomach for a moment, then back up.
“How are you feeling about it all? I haven’t had the chance to really talk to you since our chat in your room.” Starla leans back against the bar, beer held loosely in her hand as she gazes around the room, looking at nothing in particular.
“Really good, actually. I think our conversation helped clear my head a lot, and seeing Gabriel at the doctor’s office, watching the sonogram—”
“Did you get to see your baby?” she asks enthusiastically, looking toward me.
I smile warmly. “Yeah, actually. We even got to hear just a murmur of its heart. It was this big.” I show her, holding my fingers about a half an inch apart. “At least that’s what the doctor said. It all looked like black blobs and white scribbles to me.”
Starla chuckles and takes a drink of her beer. “I’m really going to miss you,” she says after a long pause, and when I turn to her, her eyes are sad.
“I’m really going to miss you too. But, hey, I won’t be that far away. You can visit anytime you want, for as long as you want. And once we get a house, you’re welcome to stay with us.”
Starla wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me in for a tight hug. Emotion clogs my throat at the unexpected display of affection, and I hug her back fiercely.
“I’ll come to visit,” she promises. “How are you feeling about the move?”
I shrug. “I'm a little nervous. We’re really looking for a place to stay, but it’s been tricky. We don’t have a lot saved up, so I think we’ll have to rent. And buy stuff for our place and all that jazz.”
