by Cathryn Cade
As to the reason she’d added the gold heart pendant that teased her cleavage, the matching earrings, and painted her nails and lips a deep rosy-red… well, what woman didn’t want her baby daddy to drool a little and wish that he hadn’t let her get away?
And if her hair was in what Chayna had dubbed her ‘do me’ look, with a messy knot at the top of her crown and the rest falling down around her shoulders in tousled disarray… so what?
So she liked to look good, bite her.
"I wasn't critiquing," she said tartly. "Just... pleasantly surprised. This place is a lot classier than the last time I saw it."
His gaze sharpened. "You've never seen it.”
It was her turn to smirk at him, although with more than a hint of bitterness behind it. "Oh, yes I have. But, that's not why I'm here today. I texted you and asked to meet because we need to talk about Con."
Mac stood, indicating one of the tables. "Okay, fair enough. Sit, and let's talk. You want something to drink?"
She frowned at his glass, half full of amber liquid. "Little early, isn't it?"
"For this?" He lifted the glass to his lips and drained it, then smacked his lips. "Ah, that's the stuff. Sure you won't have one?"
Rae scowled at him. "No, and I'd appreciate it if you could remain sober long enough to discuss our son. It's important, or I wouldn't have braved your biker sanctum."
Mac sighed and thunked the glass down on the bar. "Rae, it's iced tea. Settle down. I'll get you some water."
Good, she could throw it at him. How dare he goad her...
No, wait a minute.
He was goading her, playing games like he always did. But that didn't mean she had to buy in. She could breathe and remain calm, as her counselor had taught her. The technique worked with Ellen, it worked with difficult clients and her boss, and it would work now.
Rae stalked to the nearest table, pulled out a chair, and sat, her purse in her lap.
Mac sauntered around the bar and to the table. He handed her a chilled bottle of water and sat down across from her. Leaning back, he eyed her. "So, what's goin' on with Con?"
She clutched the soft, black leather of her hobo bag. "Has he talked to you this week? I mean, has he said anything about... problems he may be having?"
Mac's eyes narrowed. "What kind of problems?"
"Well, since we moved into the new rental, in North Spokane, I think he's been hanging out with some of the wrong kinds of kids at his new high school." She shook her head, but went on. "He's been coming home and then telling me he's going over to a friend’s home, who lives the next street over. But then... well, last week I called there because he wasn't answering his cell, and he wasn't there. Hadn't been there at all."
"What'd he say when you asked him about it?"
She flushed. "He told me to mind my own business. And sure, he's mouthy once in a while, but he's never been that open about it. I lost my temper and grounded him for the weekend. And ever since then, I feel like his—his enemy, not his mother."
She gave Mac a look of misery. "I'm doing the best I can, Mac."
He opened his mouth, and she held up a hand. "Sorry, but I'm not finished. It gets worse. A few days ago, the counselor at his high school called me. He asked me to come in for a visit. I did, and he said Connor's been hanging out with some boys who are 'allegedly'—his words, not mine—involved with a gang. He wanted Con's parents to know, so we can intervene."
She blew out a breath. "And you were on a long shift, and I—I was so scared. I sat Connor down and tried to talk to him. I told him I knew he'd been hanging around with these gang-bangers, and he-he said, and I quote, 'So, what the fuck, mom? Dad's in a gang, why can't I be in one?' "
She hurriedly took a drink of water and finished her confession. "And I—I said, 'Gee, you're right. Maybe you should join his.' "
She looked to Mac, tipping her head in apology. "I'm sorry, Mac. I... shouldn't have said that."
Mac raised a brow, his expression veiled. "Isn't that what you think? You were just speaking your mind, right?"
"Of course, I don't believe that," she snapped, crossing her arms under her breasts. "And quit holding that against me, Mac Carson. It's been years since I believed that. And I don’t know why Connor said it now. He certainly didn’t hear it from me."
He shrugged, as if her opinion didn't truly matter to him anyway. "Okay. Back to our boy. Sounds like he’s just tryin’ to get your goat. But, I have this feeling that you came out here with a plan. Mind telling me what it is?"
Very quickly, before she could lose her courage, RaeAnn said, "Yes, I—I want him to come and live with you for a while—full time, I mean. To, you know, get him away from those gang kids, and—and get his head on straight."
Mac raised his brows. Then he tipped his head back and forth as if thinking it over. Finally, he nodded. "I think your idea could work," he said. "I just have one condition."
The fine hairs on the back of RaeAnn’s neck stood up. She'd seen that gleam in his eyes before, and she knew it meant trouble—always. "What’s that?"
"If Con comes to live with me... you gotta come with him."
"What?" This time her voice rose to a near shriek, and the three Flyers visiting quietly at a back table turned, all three of them grinning.
She didn’t know any of them—not that she cared to. They were no doubt reprobates, as bad or worse than Mac himself.
"Yeah," Mac said, grinning like a Cheshire cat now. "The two of you can move in, and we'll give another shot at bein' a family. Best thing for all of us, especially Connor."
"Right,” she hissed. “You want me to move in with you. What else, Mac? You want me to come here and party with you, and watch you cozy up with your club girls? Watch them make you feel good?" Too incensed to even care about their audience, Rae shot out of her chair, flung her purse over her shoulder, and glared down at her son’s father. "Not on your rotten, no good life, biker man."
Mac shrugged, giving her a look of regret so fake it made her want to smash something over his head—something big, like one of these solid wood chairs.
She gave a huff of utter disgust. "I should have known you'd rather play games than help your own son."
His face now that of a stranger, he picked up his water bottle and saluted her with it. "And I shoulda known you'd rather stay on your high horse, mama, than do what you shoulda done a long time ago—stick around."
Rae huffed again, louder. "Liar. You barely even noticed I was gone. Like I said, Cooler, I've visited your club before. And even though you didn't see me, I saw you. With half-naked sluts on your lap."
Her voice was now shaking, so she shut the hell up. Because even saying the words brought back the slashing pain of the sight—and the subsequent sleepless hours in which she’d imagined him cavorting with both of those women.
Mac was watching her with a new look in his eyes, a dangerous alertness that she did not want to decipher. Like he’d seen her long-buried hurt and might use it against her.
Well, to hell with that. She’d as soon let a stalking mountain lion smell blood.
“Although,” she added, one hand on her hip, the other tapping her cheek as if she were deep in thought. “The results of that weren’t all bad. Helped me realize that I needed to get myself out there too… and I have, mm-hmm.” She batted her lashes at him in case he hadn’t gotten the message.
Mac was scowling now, his jaw tight, hand clenched around his water bottle until the thin plastic buckled.
Oooh, the bad boy biker was angry now. Well, too bad for him. She turned on her heel and stalked toward the front doors.
"I'll be here when you change your mind, mama," he called after her.
“Do me a favor,” she called back from the threshold. “Hold your breath while you wait!”
The rumble of masculine laughter from the back table followed her through the doors.
Shoving her way out through the double glass doors that fronted the clubhouse, Rae nearly ran into t
wo women coming in. They were both gorgeous, with long hair and perfect makeup. The brunette was very pregnant.
"Sorry," Rae mumbled, stepping to one side.
They both smiled, which was when she realized they had to be sisters. "It's okay," said the one with lighter brown hair.
Rae nodded, but smiling back was beyond her. She headed across the paved lot to her car.
"Who was that?" asked one woman quietly behind her.
"I dunno, but she was pissed," said the other. "Hey, do you think she’s...?"
Their voices trailed off as the doors swung closed behind them, so Rae didn’t get to hear the question about her. Which was fine with her. She wanted nothing more to do with anyone associated with Mac’s club.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
No sooner had Cooler watched RaeAnn stalk out the clubhouse's front doors, than Rocker's woman Billie and her sister Lesa walked in. Or rather, Lesa waddled in. The woman was nearly nine months pregnant, and it showed.
"Hey, ladies," Cooler said.
They looked at him, at each other, and nodded. "Cooler.”
"What'd I do?" he asked, putting on an injured air, more out of habit than because he was really in the mood to spar with them.
His mind was full of RaeAnn and of the look in her beautiful brown eyes as she said words he’d never thought to hear, not from her.
‘I was here before,’ she’d hissed at him. ‘You didn’t see me, but I saw you. With some of your sluts on your lap.’
Holy fucking hell.
Questions ricocheted through his mind. How long ago had that been?
Jesus. It could’ve been a whole lot of times. Flyer parties had tamed down some lately, since the influx of classy old ladies, but there had been some years in there, after Rae let him know they weren’t gonna be a couple despite having Con, where the club parties kinda blended together in a haze of booze, weed and women.
He ground his teeth, remembering what else she’d said today. ‘Helped me realize I need to get myself out there, too. And I have.’
He growled low in his throat, and the water bottle cracked in his grasp, chilled water spurting over his hand and dripping off the edge of the table onto his jeans.
Billie and Lesa watched him like a TV, not even trying to pretend they weren’t.
“What’d you do?” Rocker echoed from behind Cooler. "You just had a dust-up with your kid's mama, for one thing."
Billie walked around the table to him, and Rocker pulled her close, smiling down at her. "And these two intelligent, gorgeous women clued right in that you were the reason she went stomping out of here with her tail on fire."
Lesa sank into a chair and sighed with relief. "Yeah, so what are you up to now, Cooler?" She made a gimme motion. "C'mon, tell me. I'm so bored with staying home and off my feet I'm about to start watching Mexican telenovelas for excitement. At least whatever drama you're up to is in my first language."
Cooler smirked, again more out of habit than because he was into it. "You old ladies always think I'm behind every bit of trouble around here. I've about had it with this constant suspicion."
"That's because you are behind most of the shit that goes down around here," drawled Rav. The big, blond Southern brother pulled out the chair beside Cooler and dropped into it. "And I have real good hearing, so I heard you tell RaeAnn—that's her name, right? That she and your kid should move in with you."
Lesa gasped, her eyes and mouth wide. "What? That classy blonde is your baby mama?”
Cooler grimaced at her. “Thanks. You don’t need to look so surprised.”
“She’s a fine lookin’ woman,” Rocker said. “Fits right in with the classy, curvy old ladies we like around here.”
Rocker was not wrong. Heat stirred in Cooler’s groin as he recalled how fine RaeAnn had looked, strutting in here.
She’d put on weight when she was pregnant and added a few more pounds over the years… in all the right places, far as he was concerned.
Her tits were now a work of art, and he liked the extra curve on her hips and thighs just fine. And from what she’d said, so had other men over the years. He wanted to find each of them and cut their balls off.
Lesa smacked her hand on the table and scowled at Cooler. “Damnit! I knew I missed out on something good by not coming into town to meet you the other evening. I fell asleep. I miss everything good.”
“Don’t worry, I missed out too,” Billie told her. “But Cooler will fill us in, won’t you?” She smiled at him hopefully.
“You know it,” he said. “Already got my ass reamed by Sara, Manda, Rissa and Darlene. Wouldn’t wanna miss out on what you two have to say about what a shit I am.”
Lesa and Billie grinned at him, looking like the sisters they were. “Oh, we’re happy to add our thoughts,” Lesa said. “So what are you up to?”
“Just tryin’ to get her back,” he said. “Together, like we should’ve been from the start.”
Billie winced. “Really? You’re not off to a great start, bud. She was pissed off.”
“He’s good at that part,” Rocker said, not even trying to hide his grin.
Rav leaned forward, scowling at Cooler. "Brother, I heard most of your convo with her. You can't be leaving your kid at risk in some shady sitch to manipulate her. That's low, even for you."
Cooler’s mood headed south in a hurry. He stabbed a finger toward the younger man. "Hey! I would never leave my boy in danger. Con and me are tight. We... we've been talking."
"About?" Rav imitated Lesa's gimme motion, and she gave him a high five. They resumed watching Cooler, along with Rocker and Billie.
Cooler rolled his eyes, but what the hell? He had nothing to lose by sharing a little. "Con wants to move in with me, and he also wants his mama to have someone in her life. I may have indicated an interest in being that man. And we may have discussed strategies to make that happen."
Lesa gave him a 'what the hell' look. "And this plan includes Connor hanging with a gang to get his mama’s attention? That’s whacked!”
"Hell, no," he snapped. "That shit is on Con, and you better believe that him and me will be having a come-to-Jesus chat about that. Not sure what the hell's goin’ through his mind—but that was not part of our strategy."
"He's a teenager," Rocker said dryly. "Three things—looking cool, girls, as in how to get one, and then how to get her to put out."
"Rocker," Billie reproved.
He grinned down at her. "Sorry, gorgeous, but it's true."
Lesa rubbed the hard bulge of her belly. "So basically, you guys never change. Am I right?"
Everyone laughed, even Cooler.
"You’re right," Rav said sadly. "It's beyond us. We fellas are stuck in basic mode. Cooler here is proof of that."
“Although he’s sneaky too,” Rocker pointed out, his eyes twinkling. “He takes that way beyond basic.”
“Hey, life is too short to play by the rules,” Cooler retorted. “That’s for fools. Which means, an opportunity presents itself like my baby mama walkin’ in here today and asking me for help, right after I let you ladies know I want her back—I grabbed it and ran with it. Told her I’d take Con as long as she comes with him.”
Lesa batted her lashes at him. “Sounds to me like you’re a fool for lo-ove.”
“And about fuckin’ time,” Rav said. “Finally, we get to watch him suffer.”
“Amen to that,” Rocker agreed. Billie laughed quietly. Lesa didn’t bother to be quiet—she held her belly and hooted with laughter.
Cooler rose and pushed in his chair. "All right, y'all can start picking on someone else now, 'cause I'm outta here. Got to go find my boy and have a leetle chat."
"Make it a good one," Rocker advised, sobering. "If he's edging around a gang, you and RaeAnn got trouble on your hands."
"Fuck, which gang you talking about?" Rav asked, scowling.
Cooler grimaced. “Like the song says, ‘the boys are back in town.’ Only I mean B-O-Y-Z.”
"The fuck?” Rav demanded. “They’re back again? Thought you ran them out of town years ago.”
“They’re more like cockroaches we thought we stomped out,” Cooler said sourly. “And that was back when my boy was a baby.”
Rocker shook his head. “Those boys moved on, but the bigger gang’s been active in other towns. Now some of the young locals think they’re cool again.”
“Are they recruiting in high schools now?" Lesa asked, looking ill. “Also, the school year just started, right? Geez, they waste no time.”
"They start 'em young," Rocker said with a shrug.
Cooler shook his head. "They ain't gettin' my kid. And you can bet on that."
Rocker gave him a hard look. “Time to call church and discuss this?”
Cooler nodded. “I’d appreciate it. I’ll have more intel after I talk to Con. Get back to you in a few hours.”
Then he went out to rev up his Harley and headed off to talk with his son.
But on the way, his thoughts wandered to his son’s mama. How damn gorgeous she’d looked today, how sexy and downright hot—too hot to be all alone.
Too hot not to be with him.
September 13th
Cooler had his chat with Connor.
And what Connor told him had Cooler on the phone to Rocker immediately. The club veep called church for the next day, a Sunday.
The rest of the Flyers were settled by the time Stick arrived. The club president strode in, surveyed the brothers at the table, and took his place at the head. As he dropped into his chair, he looked to Rocker "Da, I am here. Explain."
Rocker nodded. "Right. We're here to discuss what to do about a situation with a local gang that’s popped back up again. You all remember the Brave Boyz. Cooler? You want to start?"
Cooler stepped forward, hands on the table, where he could see everyone’s faces.
"Yeah. First, thanks for hearing this, Stick.” He looked around at all his brothers. "And thanks for all the help you guys have already given me, my boy, and my—and his mama."
Bouncer smirked at him from his place at Stick’s left. "Sounded for a minute there like you was gonna say your old lady," he jibed. "What's up with that? You two back together, or what?"
