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He looked away with a jaw clench and a cuss under his breath. And knowing what I knew of him so far, which to be fair wasn’t much, I could guess what he might be thinking. That the princess was the prized jewel of the club and absolutely off limits. And probably too good for the likes of an outlaw biker trying to find the right side after too long being forced to live on the wrong one.
My eyes moved back to her, and she was still watching him, looking like a smitten kitten. Shit.
Fork was closer to seven feet tall than six with long blond hair. He and Brady with their size, hair color, and facial hair could easily be cast as extras in a Viking movie.
Spencer had moved out of earshot toward Deke who stood talking to a couple Rapid City members who’d just arrived, but I looked at Deacon and could tell he’d clocked how his sister was looking at our new MC brother, too.
“Why don’t a few of us get on the next car in line. Get things movin’ faster,” Deacon muttered.
Me, Fork, Scott, and Justice moved to the next vehicle, this one an Audi driven by a smiling man and another male passenger who was clapping his hands excitedly at the sight of us moving in his direction.
***
The afterparty was in full swing in Deke’s Roadhouse. The music was loud, shots were being slammed back, and the vibe was rowdy. Though we were open to the public, there wasn’t much ‘public’ here since it was wall-to-wall bikers and their women showing support. Celebrating the downfall of some really fuckin’ ugly thugs who would not be missed, it was the kind of rowdy that’d see arm wrestling. Laughing. Music getting louder. Couples getting hot and heavy. It wasn’t the kind of rowdy where people would turn ugly.
Though, that said, we had half a dozen members not drinking, not celebrating, rather keeping their eyes and ears open for any sign of trouble. The last thing we needed was for the dregs of the enemy to take opportunities. Also, with all the goodwill the event brought in the local media, we didn’t need brawls or other bullshit to cloud an otherwise successful day.
While I wasn’t assigned to safety patrol today, I was only nursing a beer, not planning on getting loaded. I wanted to stay sharp, feeling like it was too soon to let my guard down.
We made room at the bar for an approaching Brady. A bunch of us propped up the bar while watching some of the women cut up the dancefloor. Not my woman; she was sitting at a table nearby with Tracy and a few other Sioux Falls women. None but Tracy were old ladies. The other three with them were hang-around girls who’d obviously made the trip for the afterparty, one of them the girl who’d greeted my girl with Delia back at the mother charter.
“Where you been?” I heard Deke ask Brady who had a grim expression.
Brady sighed. “Spency’s got some drama with his girl. Just dropped off some smokes and a bottle to him.”
“Where is he?” Deke asked.
“Camped out on her folks’ front porch.”
“That didn’t last long,” Skip piped up.
“Don’t mean it’s over, just a little rocky,” Brady put in, gesturing for Coco, the bartender’s attention. “Brewsky, Coco, please?”
“Need to put prospects on the house,” Deke advised, gesturing to Nolan to come over.
“Good point, Prez,” Brady said.
“Bullshit with Pippa’s ex’s mother spouting some shit about Spencer,” Bront shared. “Saw it happen. That woman wants to break ‘em up, for sure.”
“It work? What’d she say about him?” Skip asked.
“You guys gossip worse than women,” Coco muttered, handing Brady his beer.
Skip clamped his mouth shut, but looked displeased at the dis.
“Any of you cluckin’ hens want another drink?” she called.
“Hey there,” Nico slid up to the bar. “I’m Nico.”
“And?” she asked.
“And, what’s yer name?”
“Don’t matter what my name is, turkey. What do ya wanna drink?”
“Coco, be sweet, babe. This is a new brother,” Deacon coaxed.
She rolled her eyes, putting shots and beers down in front of Fork and Justice. “Ya ain’t never gonna see me sweet and you know it. You want a drink, new brother?”
“Yeah. Double shot of tequila. And one for you, Coco.”
“Don’t want no tequila.”
“Then keep the change.” He pulled some bills out of his pocket. “And how about you gimme your number?”
“1-900-Fuck off.” She took the money, gave him her back, and poured him his drink.
“What’s her story?” Nico asked.
“You don’t wanna know,” Deacon replied.
“Unless she’s taken, she’s gonna be in my bed,” Nico declared.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Deke advised.
“Prez, take my advice: don’t bet against Nico,” Fork muttered, downing a shot.
“Nope,” Justice agreed before downing his shot.
“Ready, aim, fire,” Nico added, “I always hit my target.” He pointed a finger gun at Coco’s ass as she walked to the opposite end of the bar and pulled the imaginary trigger with a growl.
