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When the party is in full swing, I can tell Shawn is getting drunker by the minute. I don’t ask her how many of those drinks she’s had. She’s not going anywhere tomorrow. The bakery can stay closed for another day. It doesn’t really matter at this point.
“Need to talk to you,” Atomic mutters from my side.
I turn to look at Shawn. She’s throwing her hands in the air as she drunkenly talks to Gnaw. What the fuck they’re even saying to one another, I have no goddamn idea, but it’s cute as fuck.
Gnaw jerks his chin, his eyes finding mine. I mouth for him to watch her, and he jerks his chin in confirmation of my request. I lean toward her and touch my lips to her temple before I shift them to her ear.
“I’ll be back in a few,” I murmur.
I’m not even sure that she hears me, but I needed to at least tell her. Taking a step away from her, I turn and follow Atomic toward his office.
Fuck.
I did not want to work tonight. I’ve had a great fucking orgasm and some beers. I want to crash the fuck out with my woman, maybe come again before I fall asleep.
Atomic walks into his office, and I slip in behind him, closing and locking the door. He walks around his desk, sinking down into his chair, and I do the same across from him. Lifting my leg, I cross my ankle over my knee as I watch him.
“You called me in here,” I murmur.
He clears his throat with a nod. “I did.
“I figured out what we need to do to start our trucking company, and it’s a lot easier than I thought. I wanted to go over it with you, then bring it to a vote tomorrow.”
Atomic is a goddamn workaholic. He likes to party, but not as much as he fucking loves to work. It’s ridiculous, is what it fucking is. Leaning back in the chair, I run my palm down my face.
“Clients?” I ask. “We got those?”
He clears his throat. “We do. Donation store for now. We pick up the discards and drive them to the donation sites. It’s easy as shit.”
“Local?” I ask.
Atomic shakes his head once, his lips curving up into a shit-eating grin. “Distribution warehouse at the southern border of Louisiana.”
“So, we drive down south, then over?” I ask, wanting just the bare bones of the trip.
Atomic doesn’t speak immediately and instead watches me for a moment. “It’s an easy application, and startup is nothing except licensing and trucks. We don’t have to have any product other than what we’re trying to move.”
“Where do you propose we get it from or move it to?” I ask.
That’s when his lips curve up into a grin. “Got a line on a group in Beaumont that has been using a different company. They are looking to switch. They would be our first client. We pick up what is left for us from a different group and transport it down to Beaumont.”
“So we’re the middleman?” I ask. “I don’t think the brothers are going to like that.”
Atomic presses his lips together in a thin line, then lets a breath out slowly. “I don’t want to deal with a supplier or any of that shit right now. I think we’ll make more money a lot faster doing it this way.”
His words make sense, but it makes me feel a bit like we don’t have complete control over the situation this way. And if there’s anything I don’t like at all, it’s that I don’t like to feel out of control, and I don’t think anyone else in the club does either.
“As much as I want to say it’s a great idea, I’m a bit leery. It seems like we could easily be the fall guy for either side, sending or receiving.”
“We could,” Atomic murmurs. “But I don’t think we will. There’s no good reason for it. They need their shit moved, and we can provide a service. They won’t bite the hand that feeds them.”
“Or the hand that delivers the food?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Exactly.”
“Bring it up for a vote, then,” I mutter.
I’m not one-hundred-percent convinced that this is the way to go. That this new avenue is the right one. It doesn’t really matter what I think, though. What matters is what the club votes on, and with Atomic completely behind it, I have a feeling they’ll all agree.
