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Somehow, he was going to have to find a way to rectify that.
nine
“Apparently, Cricket here bonded with some chick over a tube of toothpaste.”
Cricket shot Country a scathing look, and Country responded with a negligent shrug. “That wasn’t told to you so you could run around gossiping like a schoolgirl about it.”
“But was it a secret?” Country challenged.
“Well, no, but—”
“Then who cares.” Country waved the brother off and took another long puff of his cigarette. Yeah, he was supposed to be quitting, since Red enforced the no-smoking policy inside the clubhouse walls rule because apparently, smoking wasn’t healthy for babies, children, or the women carrying the babies.
Jesus, he felt like he was in a prison full of women instead of the badass biker clubhouse he’d joined. Any time he walked through the front door these days, he was nearly bowled over by the sweet smells of flowers and clean linens and fresh-baked desserts—he wasn’t complaining about that last one. A Southern man like himself took sweets very seriously.
He was just hormonal or something. He blamed the influx of estrogen taking over the grounds. And hell, he wanted to be mad at the brothers for allowing it to go as far as it had, but he knew if his Talia was here, he wouldn’t have shit to say about anything.
His world would be right as rain.
Instead, his world was nothing but rain and dark clouds and thunderstorms. He hadn’t had a good day since…well, since she’d left.
Imagine that, from a self-proclaimed forever bachelor to a man pining over the one that got away. Sometimes, he disgusted himself, but there was no denying that she’d done a number on him, and now he was walking around a shell of a man without her.
“He’s got that faraway look again,” Moose grunted.
“Probably thinking about his woman.” Quick responded with such pity, Country snapped right the hell out of his daze and glared at them all.
“I don’t recall giving permission for any of you to discuss my personal life.”
“As if I gave you permission to air mine?”
Country rolled his eyes at Cricket. “Are you still harping about that?”
“It was, like, five minutes ago!”
“And it’s in the past now.” Country could practically see the steam coming from his brother’s ears. He kind of felt bad…but then he lit up a fresh cigarette, and all was right again. “So, I don’t know if y’all noticed, but there’s some new girl that’s been hanging around town lately.”
“I think we established that already,” Quick pointed out.
“Not the toothpaste girl,” Country corrected, “the one that’s been hanging around the bars, running up college boys’ tabs, making a general spectacle of herself.”
“Oh, yeah, that one.” Quick nodded. “She’s Moose’s future sister-in-law.”
Moose’s head snapped around so fast, Country was concerned he’d break his neck. “I ain’t getting married, prez, and I appreciate you not assigning me a life sentence without giving me due process first.”
Quick smirked. “Brother, I know the look. You have your eye fixed on that girl. Soon, you’ll be wearing a band around your finger to match the rest of us.”
“Hey, speak for yourself,” Country objected. “I ain’t marrying either.”
“Only because your woman is off gallivanting around doing God knows what God knows where, and you’re too pussy to get on your bike and bring her ass back here,” Repo chastised. He scratched his ape fingers across his barrel chest and burped before continuing. “If Talia was my woman—”
“She’s not,” Country growled.
“I would have tracked her ass down and had her tied to my bed before she could touch a pinkie toe outside state lines.”
Country remembered how the VP had done that exact thing to his woman, Red, when he’d first decided to put his claim on her. She’d always been a feisty one, and she hadn’t disappointed. She’d put up one hell of a fight, making the old man work hard for it, but in the end, he’d worn her down, and she’d agreed to wear his patch. Now they had a kid on the way.
Country didn’t necessarily want kids, but he didn’t necessarily not want them either. If Talia hadn’t left, they might very well could be just like the rest of these sorry losers sitting around the table with him drinking beers and shooting the shit on a Saturday night.
