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“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking on the fact that she wrote she was an accidental club bunny. And now it made sense. She was lookin’ for the family she wanted, liked the feel of the Dominion Brotherhood, but got labelled a sweet butt before she found a man to bring her into the fold as family.
“You said you didn’t wanna always be in an MC. What did you used to wanna be?” she asked.
“Before I got locked up I was a bouncer at the bar Ma manages. We talked about buying it from the owner, tryin’ to find a way to swing it. Then things went fucked when I went down for assault. Arch bought it so she got her bar anyway.”
She smiled. “That’s sweet.”
“Yeah. She’s made of tough stuff, though. Rough home life, needed an escape, a way to pay her own way even if the way she paved wasn’t somethin’ most people would aspire to. She didn’t intend to go back to it after she had me. Went to hairdressing school and worked doin’ that for a bit, but when she suddenly found herself with a kid and no man to take her back, she did what she had to do. Cut hair during the day and worked a pole at night. Eventually, stuck to the pole ‘cuz she was burnin’ the candle at both ends and didn’t wanna let me down. Made more money on the stage than with scissors in her hand so she did what she needed to do.”
“They seem happy. Her and Archer. I like her a lot.”
“Yeah. First serious relationship she’s had since… him.” I cleared my throat and then went on, “So I didn’t know what I wanted to be. Woulda helped Ma with the bar and looked for somethin’ else eventually. Always liked to figure out how shit worked, didn’t like school – hated bein’ treated like a kid. Problem with authority, so couldn’t figure out a way to tolerate it past getting my high school diploma. But I work for the Valentines’ garage now as a mechanic. Apprentice really, still learnin’, knew more than the basics helpin’ my father work on cars as a kid and fixing my own whips instead of takin’ them to a shop. Learned even more from Brady’s pop inside. Learnin’ a lot from Deacon and Rider after they took me on to help out. Between the garage and the club, I’m content for the moment. Make decent money. Might see if I can get my mechanic ticket down the road. Like the people I work and live with. We’re here.” I put my truck in park. “You can take it off while I’m in the store.”
“Okay.” She took the glasses off and pulled the bandana down.
I leaned over and kissed her, before asking, “Want anything else?”
She shook her head. “Um… Fruit Roll-Ups.”
“Fruit Roll-Ups?”
“Yeah. If that’s cool?”
“Sure,” I muttered. “They gluten-free?”
“Yep.”
I was in and out quickly, seeing her reclined in her seat, eyes closed, the bandana pulled down to rest around her throat.
“All right, baby,” I said when I was back in, tossing the bag to her lap. “That’ll keep us goin’ a couple days.”
She laughed when she peered inside.
“This classified as an incidental hostage expense?”
“Nah. I paid for those. Well worth it.” I grinned.
“Hm,” she mused, “Hamburger buns, too? Kinky.”
“Yeah,” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Though they’ve probably got gluten.”
She dug in further and I knew she wasn’t just eyeballing the two thirty-six count boxes of condoms and the box of Fruit Roll-Ups.
“What’s this for?” she asked, pulling out a bottle of KY jelly. “Condiment for your kinky burger?”
I barked out laughter.
“Considering you haven’t needed any of that yet, three guesses and the first two don’t count.”
She laughed. “Oh really? Mr. Tall Dark and Tattooed sure is sure of himself.”
“A guy can hope,” I muttered with a shrug and a grin.
She scoffed with an eyeroll and pulled her blindfold back up. “I’m savin’ my butt virginity for marriage, sorry to burst your kinky bubble.”
I laughed. “Kinky bubble. You can be funny sometimes.”
She smirked. “Sometimes. But I’m bein’ serious. The sweet butt is still a butt virgin. Are you shocked?”
I smiled, though she couldn’t see it. “Believe in marriage, do ya?” I asked.
“Not sure,” she said, then cautiously added, “You?”
“Not sure either. Maybe.”
Her body language changed. And the air felt unnecessarily thick, so I launched into more questions. “So, what did you wanna be when you were a kid?” I grabbed her hand. “A singer?”
She was shaking. She seemed to calm at my touch. I liked that.
“Just a quick drive. I’ll get us there fast. Don’t worry; I’ve got you.”
She smiled a little.
“So? A singer? Doctor? Teacher?”
“As crazy as this sounds, I wanted to marry a nice man, take care of his house, and give him a bunch of babies.”
