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Rolling my eyes, I face my prez. “I don’t even know how to explain it. She asked me to help her live, like I said.”
“I’m still not clear on what that means,” Duck adds, and I shoot him a glare. He holds his hands up and smirks. “I’m not trying to start shit, I swear. But how the hell did she get to be her age and not know how to live.” He shakes his head. “It makes no sense.”
“Apparently, she’s been very sheltered. Raised in a church to believe that anything she does that doesn’t conform to what they expect of her is sending her straight to Hell.”
Snow’s expression hardens. “Who’s ‘they’?”
I shrug. “Her parents, her husband, the ch—”
“She’s married?” Duck demands.
I shake my head. “Widowed.”
“Damn,” Snow mutters. “That’s rough.”
My brows knit. “Maybe. I kinda got the feeling that she isn’t too broken up about it.”
“So she was married and sheltered,” Duck recounts. “Now she’s a widow and what? She wants to hang with a biker to see how the other half lives?”
“She wants to experience things she’s never experienced,” I explain, knowing it sounds weird.
Kennedy explained it so well, but I don’t have a knack for words, and I don’t want to betray her trust by revealing too much.
Too late.
If you can’t trust your brothers, then you can’t trust anyone.
“Basically, I’m going to help her have those experiences,” I continue. “I already agreed.”
“Can we get back to the sex part of this?” Duck asks, a grin on his face. “Because that’s the part that sounds really interesting.”
“Is that all you ever think about?” I ask, not at all surprised that he’s coming back to that.
Duck shrugs. “It’s pretty high on the list.”
“I thought when you were married, that shit was supposed to taper off.”
“Dip, my man, you’ve got a lot to learn,” Snow says with a chuckle. “Fucking is great but fucking your ol’ lady… that’s perfection.”
“Well, Kennedy isn’t interested in a relationship,” I tell them. “So I don’t think I’ll be finding that out for myself any time soon.”
“Wait,” Duck says. “You get to have no-strings-attached sex with a woman you’re clearly into, and you sound upset about it. What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s every man’s fantasy.”
“What’s every man’s fantasy?”
“Yeah, I’d like to hear this too.”
Duck and Snow whirl around at the sound of their ol’ ladies' questions, and I can’t stop the roar of laughter at the way their shoulders slump like kids who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“I can’t wait to hear this,” I mutter.
“Snow, honey,” Sami says with a saccharine-sweet smile. “What’s every man’s fantasy?”
“You are,” Snow says.
Sami arches a brow. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Of course not. But, uh… it’s club business.”
