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I walked into the clubhouse, and was instantly assaulted with the smell of pine needles.
The women of the club decided to put up a Christmas tree the size of an elephant. It reached the roof’s ten foot ceiling and then curled over.
The women had wanted their husbands’ to trim the top, but it was too much work to find a thirteen-foot stepladder, and was decorated only on the bottom.
It looked incredibly silly, in my opinion. Then again, I wasn’t a big fan of Christmas. I didn’t celebrate it like everyone else did.
My mom was a single mother and always worked over the Christmas holidays.
Then when I joined the Coast Guard, I never went home on holidays. Even now, I’m not sure we would even know what to do with holidays.
Seeing a tree was new to me. Before all the ladies started arriving, Christmas’ had been just another day, and now I had to deal with the fucking Christmas carols.
I hadn’t been aware I detested Christmas carols until Baylee, our VP’s wife, brought that shit and put it on the loud speaker.
Now I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that N’Sync and Beyoncé would never be one of my go-to artists.
“Why do we have to listen to this shit?” I grumbled as I watched Baylee start to throw a hand full of tinsel at the tree.
“Because it gets you in the Christmas spirit?” Baylee teased.
Baylee was a good woman, and a perfect old lady for our vice president, Sebastian. She was a paramedic on the Kilgore, Texas fire department with a morbid sense of humor. Hercheerypersonality balanced out Sebastian’s serious one. They complemented one another nicely. They had something special; something that I hadn’t even realized I’d wanted until I saw the two of them together.
But the same could be said for each man in the club that now had old ladies. I hoped that I could find that with Channing. I just had to get through this week, first.
“Is this group a boy band or a pussy band?” I asked as I walked to the tree and picked up one of the ornaments.
It was a fire hose made out of spun glass.
“This is The Backstreet Boys...haven’t you ever heard of them?” Viddy asked in surprise.
I turned to find her with an arm full of threaded popcorn.
“I don’t listen to pop. I don’t think my radio’s octave can go up as high as these men are screeching,” I said as I plucked a piece of popcorn out of the bowl Adeline was bringing in.
Adeline and Viddy were twins. They looked exactly alike, except for Adeline’s numerous tattoos. Black hair, white creamy skin, banging curves. Although Adeline’s were a little more pronounced now that she had a baby.
Saylor, Kettle and Adeline’s daughter, was now three months old, and the reason Adeline’s boobs looked like cantaloupes. Not that I looked too hard. I valued my face too much.
Kettle was a possessive asshole; especially when it came to his wife and her assets.
“How much longer until we’re riding?” I asked Silas, who was sitting at the bar.
Silas was the president of the MC, and the closest thing to a father I’d had in recent years. He was brash, rude, and had a zero tolerance policy for bullshit.
I suspected that, at one time, he was a member of the CIA or FBI, but hadnever been able to get him to admit to it. Although, that wasn’t for a lack of trying. The man was just an iron vault when it came to his personal life. Very rarely did I see him show any emotion, even when it came to his own son, Sebastian.
“As soon as the men get their balls back and get their women on their bikes,” he said dryly.
“Well,” I huffed a laugh. “Guess we’ll just try for next year then.”
He chuckled and tipped up his beer. “Speaking of girls. How’s your girl?”
I didn’t even bother asking how he knew I had a girl. Nobody else did, but Silas had ways. Ways that he didn’t ever feel the need to explain.
“She’s pissed,” I said as I reached across the bar to grab a beer of my own. “To say the least.”
“I’d imagine. You left her for three months, without a word, when you went to Florida. It’s understandable,” he agreed.
