AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With a grim little smile aimed at me, the girl marched us over to it. I sat down opposite Jett, and she handed us two menus. Keeping her focus on Jett, she asked if we wanted drinks. Thirsty, I asked for a diet coke, and Jett ordered a Coors. With a winning grin at Jett, she told us the server would be over soon. Jett paid her no attention, which did wonders for my ego. He placed the menu on the table and reached for my hand. Jett’s thumb made lazy circles as I studied him. The damn man sent me a wink, and I buried my head back in the menu.
“Trust me?” Jett sought, using his other hand to pull the menu away.
“With?” I asked.
“Feeding you.”
I put it down and nodded. Another waitress came over, and her gaze flew straight to Jett. Jett wasn’t paying attention, but I was, and I hid a giggle as the busty blonde fluffed her hair as she approached and thrust her boobs out. Jett placed our order without looking at her, and I listened, open-mouthed. Were we expecting company?
It was apparent Jett could eat tons, but holy hell, how did Jett keep that incredible body? Jett ordered a mixed platter starter, two lots of ribs and steak with fries, salad, onion rings, garlic bread and breaded mushrooms. He chased that up with the breadbasket and topped it off with ordering chicken wings. Jett gave me a disapproving look when I said I wanted my steak well done to his medium-rare. To finish, Jett requested two more drinks and told her we’d order dessert later.
“Are other people coming?” I finally asked when the waitress left and returned with a breadbasket. Jett shook his head with a grin, picked up a roll, cut it open, and began buttering it. He offered it to me, and I took it and watched as his long fingers did the same to the next one.
“Hungry like you.”
“I’m starved, so you must be way beyond that,” I told him as I broke a piece of bread off and popped it into my mouth. Jett stared intently before biting into his own. Fascinated, I watched Jett chew, and his throat rippled as he swallowed. I’d never thought watching a man eat could be sexy, but now I rethought that.
“Had a rough day,” Jett interrupted into my thoughts, taking another bite.
I made a pout at him, and his eyes warmed.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Ordered a part for a custom build. The system says it’s here, but I couldn’t locate it. Lowrider, Ezra, and I searched all day for the fuckin’ thing. Tore the storeroom, garage and clubhouse apart looking for it, but can’t find the fucker anywhere. Gotta order another one, and we’re pissed at that. Expensive too, which gonna eat into the profit on the build,” Jett fumed. A furrow appeared on his brow. In agreement, I nodded.
“Custom build?” I asked.
“I design and build bikes from scratch. Rage has a few brothers capable of designing in the club. A customer tells me what he prefers, I draw a few designs, and the client comes back and picks the one he wants. Then I make changes if the buyer demands any. Once a design is agreed upon, the customer must sign a contract and pay half upfront.
“Then we start the build. A build can cover anything from replacing an exhaust to specialised paintwork. Texas and I do the paint jobs. Another prospect, Hunter, is learning the trade. Hunter’s got talent, so we’ll have it covered with the three of us. Drake’s good, but he enjoys getting dirty. Drake likes to rip them apart and build them up. He doesn’t mind bold, straightforward designs, but Pres loses patience with the minor details, and many of my designs have small details. Drake can do it, chooses not to.”
“Pres?”
“The club president, Pres, that’s Drake.”
“So, how do you start the builds?” I asked, curious.
“Say a customer needs a Harley Street Rod customising. Rage will pick up the bike if the client doesn’t have one. Then rip off the crap the buyer doesn’t require and replace it with the shit he wants. Sometimes we strip a bike down to a frame. Other times it’s just a paint job. Depends on the personality. For an enthusiast, money doesn’t always play a part. They know what they want and will pay it no matter what.”
“The re-makes cost a lot of money?” I asked.
“If I’m buying the Harley and redesigning and repainting, I can charge anything from forty thousand up. If the customer has a bike, builds can start at five thou upwards. Depends on the build and what the client wants doing. On average, Rage custom-designed bikes sell for fifty to sixty thousand each. But we’ve sold for a shitload more than that.”
“Oh my god,” I breathed.
Jett smiled.
“Rage MC, we’re the premier bike design in South Dakota, not just Rapid City. When Drake went into this, he toyed with the idea of starting the garage in Sturgis. Chose not to because although Sturgis is the Harley capital, it’s also fuckin’ cut-throat there. Some of the shops are lacklustre and sell crap.
“With us being here, it ensures we aren’t battling them for business. Word of mouth spreads, and people will travel. Rage has a fifteen-month waiting list for orders at the moment, which is why we’re training Hunter up. Could use another four or five of us.” Jett let go of my hand, which he had still been holding all the time as our starters arrived. My eyes grew wide at the amount of food on the platter.
“Wow, that’s a lot.”
“Hungry,” Jett grunted. He picked up a chicken stick, bit into it, and chewed. I grabbed a loaded potato skin and placed it on the small plates that had been delivered.
“So, you, Drake, Texas, and Hunter are the designers and custom painters? I thought everyone would be mechanics?” I asked as I cut into the food.
“Nah, not many of Rage are interested in vehicle designs. Some brothers got no talent in design. There is other shit brothers can do if they aren’t mechanics. We have the bar, the store, and the shops. Manny and Gunner don’t work in the garages. They tend to run the parts and the Rage stores.
