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A deep voice sounded off behind them. “You ladies are laying it on a little thick today, aren’t ya?”
Rose shoved her hands into her jean pockets and whirled around to face her father. She laughed at the stern look on his face and ad-libbed like a pro. “Ven, the wise and merciful, please excuse the flapping of our self-aggrandizing, lipstick-laden lips.”
The man frowned at her. “You know I hate it when you use my club name.”
With an intense stare, she deadpanned, “I could start making up names for you, old man, but I don’t think you’d like that very much.”
Grinning, he motioned for her come with him. “You got me there, girl. Now, shut your mouthy little pie hole and get back to the party. This is going to be the last cookout of the year.”
Tiffany took a step forward. “I never cared for Halloween, but cookouts are kind of cool.”
Rose shifted around to look at her with an expression that said this was not the correct attitude to have about a holiday the club was clearly crazy about. Unsure how to backpedal out of this one, Tiffany just stared at the teen.
“I’m sure you haven’t had a proper introduction to All Hallows’ Eve.” Dodging left, Rose brought up both hands into claws and used her witch’s voice. “All the little kiddies love All Hallow’s Eve. It’s the one night of the year,” she continued with the silly voice, zigzagging back and forth like a snake, “when dead leaves fly, like witches on switches through the night.”
Laughing, Tiffany pulled the girl out the back. “I think Behn’s poem says flint, not fly, through the night.”
Straightening herself up, the girl giggled as she righted her hat. “I like my way better. What do you think, old man?”
Clearly fed up with her shenanigans, he replied playfully, “I think your mother filled you a plate, so you should come and eat. You too, Tiff. I told Ryder that I’d look out for you while he was gone.”
Tiffany smiled. That sounded like something her overprotective biker would ask. It would also explain why it took so long to fetch the car earlier.
Rose grabbed her hand and pulled her along to the back of the lot where a utility trailer with a built-in barbecue pit was churning out three different kinds of meat, and people were milling around a half-dozen picnic tables. Music blared from huge speakers with thumping base. All in all, it was the perfect day for a party.
Dropping into a seat beside Ryder’s mother, Tiffany gave the skittish woman a quiet greeting. “Hello, Lily. I like your Halloween T-shirt. How are you doing?”
Looking nervously down at her T-shirt with zombie bikers, Lily stammered, “I-I’m fine. Is everything okay with Ryder?”
Tiffany nodded. She had a hard time reconciling herself with the fact this timid, petit woman had given birth to Ryder, but she knew she had because the family had proudly shown her their photo albums when she’d arrived in their small town. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Lily was always looking away or seemed a little terrified in each image. In fact, the poor woman always seemed as if she was about ready to scurry off like a frightened little squirrel.
“He’s just fine. Ace’s gun misfired, and he caught a single bullet in the leg. I patched him, and Ryder and Darkness took him to the hospital. Ryder was his normal, surly self when they pulled out,” Tiffany informed her.
A tiny smile played around Lily’s impish features. “My Ryder is his father made over.”
“I’d have to agree with you on that.”
“If he hadn’t met you, I don’t think he would have made it. Thanks for taking care of my baby in the big city.”
“Bismarck North Dakota isn’t exactly a big city, but I knew the moment I set eyes on him that he was something special. You did real good with him, Lily. I mean that,” Tiffany said sincerely.
Blushing slightly, Lily glanced away. “I’m so proud of both him and my little Rose. I know being prideful is a sin, but I can’t help it.”
Laughing, Tiffany whispered conspiratorially, “I think God will forgive you for that one. I’m a little prideful of Ryder myself.”
“I really like you, Tiffany. You’re just perfect for my son.”
“Thanks, Lily. You’ve made me feel welcome. I didn’t think that I’d fit in here, but your family and the club have been good to me.”
Glancing toward a group of women wearing leather pants and halter tops, Lily kept her voice low. “I always worried about what kind of woman my son would end up with. I’m glad it was you.”
They both looked on as the whores strutted their stuff all over the parking lot. They were loud, brash, and way past flirty. Their skintight costumes showed more than one camel toe, and huge, saggy breasts seemed to be the order of the day. They represented all age groups, but that didn’t stop most of them from being forward with the club brothers.
Lily’s hand tightened around her spoon. Tiffany followed her gaze to her husband. One of the women had sidled up to him and was pressing her body seductively against his. He promptly elbowed her out of his way. Within moments, she was back. This time, she wiggled her hand into the waistband of his pants, near his belt buckle.
The plastic spoon snapped in Lily’s hand as she frowned. This time, Ven turned around, grabbed the woman by the throat, and literally threw her back. To add insult to injury, he wiped his hand on his jeans, as if to rid himself of her germs. Amazingly, the woman stood up and began walking toward him again. Annoyance clear on his face, Ven made some kind of hand movement to a group of prospects. They stepped into her path and began maneuvering her toward the clubhouse.
Reaching over, Tiffany slid the spoon handle from Lily’s hand and without comment and replaced it with a fresh spoon.
