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Doc coughed. “Sounds a bit like a protection detail. Nope, I’m out.” He stood. “It worked well for me last time, but I think it’s somebody else’s turn.”
Brewer shook his head. “No can do. I’m up to my eyeballs in running the community outreach shit during the event, plus the bar.”
Reaper’s ice blue eyes swiveled between Kevlar and Rubble. “Down to two.”
Just as Kevlar opened his mouth, Rubble interrupted, “I’ll do it.”
Kevlar’s eyes bugged and Doc laughed himself out of the room.
“You sure?” Reaper asked, eyeing him warily. “It won’t be any fun. Being bossed around isn’t your thing.”
He shrugged. “The club needs my help, and unless somebody throws a punch at the Cutthroats, we should be quiet for a while. Kevlar can man the garage in my absence, and I’ll check on the projects at night.”
Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, Reaper lit one. “I’ll double-check with Queenie, but it should be fine. The two women are a mite skittish around men, but one has backbone. Least that’s what my old lady says.” He inhaled the smoke and chuckled. “Hell, you may turn out to be a better baker than Doc.”
Rubble stood, not sure if he’d made the right decision. He scratched his forehead, pushing the beanie up slightly on his bald head. Queenie’s untimely visitor had something to do with the new bakery. He felt it in his bones. And there was something off about the girl. He needed to learn more, and there was only one way to do that.Get close.
* * *
Pushingthe last bit of snow with the plow attached to the front of the old truck to the larger pile, Rubble backed up and parked. The lots were finally clear. He hopped down and grunted.But not for long.More snow fell from the dark sky above him. It was a constant for Colorado. Normally, he didn’t mind tending to the sidewalks and parking lots. It was a mundane and brainless task he could do. Lately, though, he couldn’t get Jupiter off his mind. His once boring task now gave him more than ample time to think about Jupiter. She was pretty, sure, but the mystery surrounding her was the reason she kept popping to the front of his thoughts.
He walked to the garage and scowled, seeing a prospect fucking a nymph against the workbench through the window. The only part that bothered him was that the young kid didn’t lock the front door and any Jack, Jill, or Stanley could waltz right in and steal tools.
Wrenching open the door, he flicked the light off and on, which made the nymph gasp and the prospect turn red. He’d walked in on plenty of his brothers with women. The act itself wasn’t the problem.
“I told you five times before to lock the goddamn front door, dumbass,” Rubble said, walking to the door and locking it. “Before that, you undercharged a lady cuz she was hot, and before that, you were caught loafing around the bar when you should’ve been working.” He turned toward the prospect and clenched his hands into fists. He was sick of playing babysitter to these idiots all the time. “If you fuck up again, your ass is out.”
“Rubble, I swear—”
The glare Rubble tossed the prospect’s way was dark enough to shut the shorter man’s lips. The prospect nodded, pulling up his pants. “It won’t happen again.”
The nymph giggled, smoothing her skirt and tugging her red bra back in place. She winked at Rubble and sashayed to the back door, the prospect hurriedly in tow.
Rubble ran a hand over his head, the gesture pushing his beanie off. Normally, shit like that wouldn’t bother him. He blew out a noisy breath and finished closing the garage. His stomach grumbled and the late time reminded him he’d missed dinner.
Knowing Queenie always put leftovers in the fridge, he stomped over to the clubhouse, eager to grab a plate and relax. Kevlar nodded when he entered the clubhouse, his old lady throwing darts in front of him. Rubble returned the gesture and maneuvered through the busy room until he made it to the kitchen. Rifling through the food, he finally spotted a generous slice of meatloaf alongside a serving of mashed potatoes and green beans. After warming up the plate, he grabbed a chair and positioned it so he could see all exits. It was something foster care and the military taught him, and it was the one thing he couldn’t forget.
Country music droned in the background, laughter mingling with the twang of the old song. Snoopy and Legs played cards with Dolly, Brewer, and Hawk. Dolly laid a royal flush, taking the pot of poker chips. Legs started cursing in Spanish and Rubble smirked. He was ninety percent sure the siblings were cheating somehow. Proving it was another matter.
Doc and Isa were nowhere to be found, but that wasn’t new. The expectant couple didn’t stay up late nowadays. He couldn’t blame them for getting a little peace and quiet. It was nearly impossible with this lot.
He scraped the last bit of mashed potatoes onto his fork and lifted it to his mouth. Before he could finish them off, he caught sight of Queenie and Jupiter coming out of the communal bathrooms on the first floor. He leaned back in his chair to get a better view. Sure enough, a towel was wrapped around Jupiter’s torso and she had another one on her head, her olive-green eyes wide and filled with uncertainty.
Rubble stood and placed the plate on the counter, his curiosity getting the better of him. He casually walked down the hall—his room was there, after all—and peeked through the open door.
“Now, rinse it out and you’ll be good to go,” Queenie said, motioning to the shower stall where water was already running. “Go on now, girl.”
Jupiter sighed and did as she was instructed. The towel tucked at her breast fell to the floor and Rubble blinked hard at what he saw. Her skin was milk-white with a splattering of freckles on her shoulders, but the scars made his stomach pitch. They weren’t long and jagged like his war wounds. Hers were perfectly placed and precise in nature. For a moment, all he could see was the discolored flesh. His mind wouldn’t allow him to appreciate her plump ass or even the tribal tattoo along her spine.
She disappeared into the stall and Rubble took a step backwards. He’d seen his fair share of naked women, but none that stunned him like Jupiter.And I’ve only seen the back half.He ran a rough hand over his beard, tugging on it to snap him out of the trance she unknowingly put him under.
From that second forward, he had to know everything about her. Had to understand why she was in Snowshoe. Had to learn why she hadn’t come earlier. Scars like hers were made over years of abuse. He winced at the memory of one foster family who’d dished out similar wounds to naughty children, him being the forerunner.
Her hair.His brain finally caught up to his eyes and he glanced into the bathroom again. Sure enough, Jupiter’s once formerly long blonde locks were now short and brown. He balled his hands into fists. She needed help and he’d make sure she got it.
CHAPTER6
JUPITER
