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Was he? Zach played back what he’d said and heard how often he’d saidwe. Huh. But he shrugged. “Haven’t made a decision about that yet. I meant ‘we’ as in the club.”
“I like the idea of a tire shop,” Gargoyle said. “Maybe some body work, too. A body shop doesn’t need pumps or an oil change pit. We could work out of that funky barn pretty easily. Maybe we specialize in hot rods and street racers—there’s a shit ton of racing going on out here.”
Caleb nodded. “I like how flat and remote this place is—plenty of privacy, and we can see anybody coming from any direction. Put a fence up around the buildings, use the garage for club rides, make that barn into the business. Yeah, I can see it. If the house works for a clubhouse.”
“Well, let’s take a look inside, then,” Patrick said with a relieved smile.
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~oOo~
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The house needed somework, but mostly cosmetic, which probably wouldn’t be a big priority with the Bulls, at least not until there were women around who would give a shit about 1970s faux-wood paneling. It could work well enough for a clubhouse. Not near as big as Tulsa, but big enough. The living room was a large, vaulted-ceiling ‘great room’ that also included the dining area, so it would work as a party room. The kitchen was a galley-style but big enough. It had a pass-through into the great room, with a short run of counter. The partial second floor was a loft sitting area and one bedroom, which could work as president’s office. There were only two bedrooms on the first floor, but one was a roomy master that could, with some soundproofing, work as their chapel.
“There’s no place for crash pads,” Cooper said. “Gotta have a place for fucking.” He cast a surreptitious glance Reed’s way. Reed was examining the cupboards in the kitchen and didn’t notice.
“We could build on—or do another outbuilding, like a dorm?” Zach suggested. The others bobbed their heads like they didn’t think it was a terrible idea. A distinct ‘maybe’ vibe to the head-bobbing.
“We set up a bar along this wall,” Caleb said, his arms spread before the tall, windowless wall on one side of the great room.
“The house has some real cons,” Cooper said. “But I guess it could work. What about the other buildings? None of this fucking matters if we don’t figure out the business.”
Reed came around from the kitchen. “Specializing in racing has some merit. Recruitment potential, too. And don’t think just about street racing. Out here, there’s a lot of off-road shit, too. More off-road, actually. Bikes and 4x4s. Most racers do their own work, but a good supply place, with the right vibe, they’d be in on that. Not to mention the wannabes who just want to ride down the Strip thinking they’re the shit.”
Patrick came up and stood beside Reed. “Shall we take a look at the outbuildings?” he asked with a grin.
“Sure,” Cooper sighed. “Weshall.”
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~oOo~
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Since the pickingswere slim, Patrick showed them every possibility on that single day, and they decided to go with the property with the Quonset huts. First, though, they had to take it to the Bulls in Tulsa and get approval—not to mention the cash for the purchase. They went back to the rental house to call it in.
That was all above Zach’s pay grade, so while Caleb and Cooper sat in the largest bedroom, which Cooper had, of course, claimed for himself, Zach sat in the living room with Gargoyle, Ben and Reed—and Lyra, because he’d called and asked her to come over.
Now, standing in the entrance to the hallway that led to the master, she surveyed the living room, her hands on her hips. “You guys have had this house less than twenty-four hours, and it’s already a nightmare. Were you pigs in a past life?”
It was true that the place looked about half wrecked, with pizza boxes and beer bottles, trashed paper plates and Solo cups, and a bowl on the coffee table that had been repurposed as an ashtray and was overflowing with ashes and cigarette butts and a couple dead roaches—the smokable kind, not the skittering kind.
Sitting in a puffy pub chair with threadbare upholstery, Zach laughed and leaned over to catch her hand. He drew her to him and settled her on his lap. She hooked an arm over his shoulders and began to play with his hair. The light touch of her fingertips brushing his neck had him going hard almost at once.
This easy comfort and steady thrum of desire he felt with her was something special. For all the weeks they’d been apart, getting to know each other, growing closer despite that vast distance, Zach had worried what they’d been doing online and over the phone wouldn’t translate to what he’d been thinking of as ‘IRL.’ In real life. He’d been worried all that closeness would fall apart when they were in the same room together again, as if what they’d been doing from a thousand miles apart had been mere fantasy.
But they’d been in their real lives the whole time, and getting closer from a distance had maybe beenbettersomehow, like they’d felt safer being real with each other right away. Now that they were together again, they were comfortable in their feelings, felt secure with each other, and fuckingdelightedto be able to be close like this.
“I was only here for like an hour this morning, so don’t blame me,” he said with a grin.
Gargoyle shrugged and drained his beer. “As long as we’re not overrun with vermin, who gives a fuck?”
“Yep,” Lyra said, leaning down to pick up a piece of congealed pepperoni off the floor. She dropped it into a mostly empty pizza box. “Pigs. Not in a previous life. In this one.”
“You know how to clean up any kind of mess, don’t you, baby bear?” Ben said with a chuckle.
“Fuck that!” She turned and gave Zach a firm look. “I’m not cleaning up after you. You understand that, right? With your mom who taught you not to expect women to do for you?”
