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Ma was busy at the bar, but I’d texted that I was dropping G off for a few days and she told me to call her with the scoop tomorrow.
13
“Don’t get yer beef curtains in a knot. I’m perfectly capable of lookin’ after my woman.”
This was Spence, riding Bront’s ass about his snit over the fact the salon was staying open. Bront figured it should be shut down.
“Besides, prospects don’t get opinions,” Spence added.
“Deke opened the floor up. I’m allowed to talk now,” Bront muttered.
I didn’t disagree with Bront, but Jenna was a spitfire, and I knew she’d balk at the idea of Rider telling her she couldn’t open up for her customers. We’d put armed brothers on site with the girls during business hours for now, until we couldn’t spare those resources.
As for Spence, he was lookin’ for every available opportunity to make sure Bront knew the score, knew Pippa was in Spence’s bed. Since Pippa worked at Jenna’s salon, at least they’d both be covered at once instead of having to worry about two separate locations.
We were crowded around the table; Deke had handed out assignments for the next few days and now we were going over safety measures for family members.
“Where’s your girl?” Skip asked, eyes on me.
And I did not like the tone he used, nor the volume with which he used it. He wanted an audience.
“Safely outta town, Skippy,” I replied.
“Coulda knocked me over with a feather hearin’ that one,” Skip put in, eyes flashing at the nickname.
“What’s this?” Little John asked from the edge of the crowded kitchen.
“Gianna from the falls,” Skip called over.
“Sweet butt Gianna?” Little John piped up. “What about her?”
I straightened.
“Not sweet butt Gianna. Jesse’s girl Gianna,” Brady corrected. “And I’m tickled for ya, brother.”
“Shit, sorry, Jesse,” Little John’s face went red. “Missed that tidbit of gossip.”
This time it was Deke that spoke up. “Not gossip. Just the facts. Jesse’s claimed her.”
“My bad. I missed the last couple churches. Just got back from my ex-mother-in-law’s funeral outta town.”
I jerked my chin up at him. “My condolences, John.”
“Nah. None needed. She was a miserable cow. I only went so I could take a piss on her grave.”
Scott who was on the other side of me choked on his drink as laughter filled the space.
Little John was one of the jolliest men you ever met. Except, from what I could tell so far, when it came to his ex-wife and, evidently, anything related to that ex.
“Anyway, congratulations. That little girl is a sweetheart,” John added.
“We all know how it feels to go where many men have gone before,” Skip muttered. “Good thing with that one, she’s still tight as a drum. Or she was last time I had her a couple weeks ago.”
That fuckin’ goof.
I was just about to reply with, “Was she conscious that time?” but Scott piped up before I got the chance.
“Yeah, well, not to tell tales outta school,” Scott called out, “but…” he paused for effect, “I’ve seen nearly every one of you assholes in the buff and for sure, givin’ it to her regular, Jesse’ll be the one to stretch her out.”
My face was like stone, eyes on Skip, who was shooting his mouth off without looking at me. But at Scott’s remark along with Skip’s reaction, a grin took its time to spread across my face.
And every brother around the table saw not only my grin, but the way Skip’s face went red at the suggestion my cock was bigger than his.
“I’d say nice of you to notice, Scoot,” I joked. “But keep yer eyes on your own paper.”
Scott and a couple of the other brothers barked out laughter. “Not that I try to look, but shit, man, the postmaster general called, and they’ve assigned you and Deacon your own zip codes.”
Scott was havin’ my back. It was who he was. He was great at injecting levity or redirecting peoples’ attention when the air got too thick in a situation. Most of the guys had their strengths.
“I’d say thanks, not so bad yerself,” Deacon put in, “But I’ve never taken the time to look.”
Scott stood, shrugged, then dropped his drawers to his ankles.
Skip’s face was redder as a bunch of us laughed in hysterics, Deacon giving Scott a slow clap.
Deke made sure to look for varied talents in putting his charter together. For me, beyond being good with mechanical shit and good with my fists, I can get past just about any lock and I’m good with a gun. Going back to being a kid I always wanted to know how things worked, figure them out. I was always pulling shit apart and putting it back together. Doing puzzles. Working at figuring mysteries out.
As for some of the other strengths in the club, Scott doesn’t just bring levity, he’s one of those model-pretty boys who looks like he’d be more at home in surfer gear than biker gear. He can charm the pants off just about anybody and his ability to diffuse volatile situations makes him an asset.
