by Nicole James
He leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms and took in the sight before him. Jessie was standing at the stove adding a sprinkle of cheese to some scrambled eggs cooking in a pan.
His eyes skated down her. She had on one of his flannel shirts, her legs bare underneath, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else was bare under there. As he leisurely took in the sight, she lifted one bare foot to rub it against the back of her calf and hell, if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Mornin’, brat.”
Her head swiveled, startled, and her eyes took him in. The bare chest, the sweats hanging low on his hips. And he watched her flush and swallow.
“Good morning. You woke up.”
“To a man, the smell of bacon cookin’ is better than any alarm clock.”
She grinned. “I’ll have to remember that. I hope you’re hungry.”
He moved to the stove, his eyes to a pot. “Are those grits?”
“Um hmm. And fried potatoes, and there are cheese biscuits in the oven. I didn’t make gravy, I know how you love biscuits and gravy, but I couldn’t find—”
He cut her off by pulling her into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers with a smack.
She looked up at him startled. “What was that for?”
“You cooked for me. I haven’t had anybody cook for me, hell, probably since you and your mom. At least not a good southern breakfast like this.” She pushed back out of his arms, grinning, and he watched her face flush. With embarrassment or happiness that she’d pleased him, he couldn’t be sure.
“Well, go sit down, and I’ll bring you a plate.”
He let her go and walked back out to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools.
A moment later, she carried out two plates, setting one heaping helping in front of him. It smelled amazing. He dug in and groaned around the mouthful. “Damn, baby. This is delicious.” He looked over at her where she sat beside him. “I forgot how good you could cook.”
She gave him a shy smile and shrugged. “Its just breakfast. Anybody could do it.”
“Uh, no. In my experience just anybody can’t do it. Some people can’t even scramble an egg, let alone the rest of this.” He waved his fork over his plate.
“Mama taught me.”
He nodded. “Whatever else you say about her, she was a phenomenal cook.” He grinned. “Probably how she hooked my old man.”
She looked down at her plate and replied quietly, “Yeah, maybe.”
He bit into a strip of bacon and studied her suddenly sad expression, frowning. Was it the mention of her mother that made her sad, or the mention of his father? “Jess?”
“I miss him, you know.”
He frowned, chewing. “Who?”
She turned suddenly glassy eyes on him. “Robert.”
He swallowed at that, the food suddenly feeling like a rock in his throat. He looked down at his plate. “I know, brat. I miss him, too.”
When she was quiet, he reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Remember that time he tried to sneak into the pool of the apartment complex down the street? He climbed up over the little storage shed and fell through the roof.”
That got a smile out of her. She looked over at him, a tinkle of laughter escaping.
“Funniest thing I ever saw,” he admitted, grinning.
“Me, too.”
“Management chased him through the whole complex, remember?”
“You hid me behind the dumpsters, while they chased him.”
“Couldn’t let you go down for our crime.”
They finished the rest of their breakfast in happy chatter, reminiscing about days gone by.
“You cooked, so I’ll clean up,” he said, reaching for both their plates.
“You remember that rule, huh?”
“You’re momma taught me well. I do my share.” He stood with the plates in his hands and nodded with his head back toward the bedroom. “Go take a shower. I got this.”
She jumped off her stool. “Sounds good to me.”
He grinned, watching her walk off, his eyes on her ass, right where they shouldn’t be. He blew out a breath and turned to head into the kitchen to clean up.
About ten minutes later, as he was starting to cover up the leftovers, since Jessie, like any good southern woman, made way too much, he heard the rumble of some bikes pulling up. Frowning, he tossed the dishtowel over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
Ghost opened the door, his eyes sweeping over five of his brothers, and he blocked the entrance with his body. “What the fuck do you want?”
“We’re selling magazines to support our meth addiction. Can I interest you in a subscription, sir?” Griz joked with a straight face.
“I gave at the office.”
Griz pushed past him. “You ain’t got an office.”
In trouped Hammer, JJ, Heavy, and lastly Shades.
“To what do I owe this visit?” he asked, folding his arms.
Shades tossed a bag to Ghost. “Skylar sent over a few things.”
Ghost caught it to his chest, looking down at it. “Why’d she do that?”
“I told her about the ‘bootylicious sweats’ incident at the truck stop. She offered to take your girl to the mall later. Sent a few things to tide her over till then.” Shades tugged on the dishcloth on his shoulder with a grin as he made to move past Ghost and head up the stairs. “We need to talk, Betty Crocker. Come on.”
Ghost’s brows rose as he watched his brothers all head up the stairs, and he called after them in a sarcastic tone, “Well, come on in and make yourselves at home, why doncha?”
“Thanks, we will,” Hammer replied, his voice echoing down the stairs.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Ghost grumbled beneath his breath as he turned to lock the door, and then followed them up the stairs.
They were all sitting at the bar, except for Griz, who emerged from the kitchen with a plateful of Jessie’s cheese biscuits, munching on a piece of bacon.
“You make these?” he asked.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Shades replied. “He couldn’t make a biscuit if his life depended on it.”
“Gimme one,” Hammer demanded, already reaching toward the plate.
They all grabbed one.
JJ pulled his apart. “Its like a fluffy cloud of magical goodness.”
Ghost rolled his eyes.
Griz sat on a stool, groaning and reaching for his back. “Christ, it’ll take me days to recover from that fucking ride home.”
“Your back hurt?” Ghost asked.
“’Course it does. Doesn’t yours?” he growled back.
“Nope. I had the most phenomenal back rub the other night.” Ghost grinned like the Cheshire cat.
Shades looked over at him with brows raised, his mouth full of biscuit. “Oh, is that so? Do tell.”
Hammer leaned forward to look around Shades. “You sayin’ she can cook like this, looks like she does, and gives backrubs, too? Hell, you don’t marry her, I will, son.”
Ghost’s eyes moved from Shades to Hammer. “You ain’t touchin’ her, bro.”
Just then, their heads all swiveled as the woman in question walked out of the bedroom, her head bent, rubbing a towel on her wet hair, and back in his flannel shirt.
JJ let out a wolf whistle that brought her head up, and she stopped dead in her tracks.
Ghost’s arm swung out, smacking JJ in the side of the head.
“Oww. Son-of-a—”
“Watch your mouth,” Ghost snapped.
“Oh! I didn’t know you had company,” Jessie stuttered out, looking stricken with embarrassment.
Ghost tossed her the bag Shades had given him. “Here, Shades’ ol’ lady sent some clothes over for you.”
Jessie scrambled to grab up the bag, almost dropping the towel. She clutched it to her chest. “Thank you. That was nice of her.”
Shades gave her a smile, nodding. “She’s a good woman.”
“Th
ank her for me, will you?”
“Will do,” Shades replied.
“Well, don’t just stand there, brat, go put some clothes on,” Ghost ordered with brows raised.
“Hell, let her stand there. I ain’t complainin’,” Hammer put in.
Ghost smacked Hammer in the back of the head, barking to Jessie, “Move.”
“Oww. Fuck,” Hammer bitched, yanking his head away.
When she was gone, Ghost moved around the back of the bar and pulled the carafe from the coffee maker, pouring himself a mug.
“You’re not going to offer the rest of us any?” Shades asked with lifted brow.
Ghost brought the mug to his lips, replying in a growl, “No, ‘cause you ain’t stayin’ that long.”
“We interrupt something, bro?” Hammer asked with a smirk.
“Yeah, breakfast, fuckface.”
A few minutes later, Jessie returned in a pair of jeans and tank top. She moved behind the bar and got herself a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” she said, eyeing the men.
Heavy replied, “What’s good about it?”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked him.
“Ignore him. He ain’t a mornin’ person,” Ghost informed her.
Heavy looked up at her with a surly face. “There are only two kinds of people in my book. Morning people,” he paused, one brow lifting as he looked at her threateningly. “And the people that want to kill them.”
“All righty, then.” She got in his face, showing no fear. “So, just coffee, then?”
He glared at her.
“Warning, bro. She’s got an attitude and she knows how to use it.”
Heavy’s eyes cut to a grinning Ghost, and then back to her. “Coffee would be good. I wouldn’t say no to a cup of Joe.”
Her brow rose, and she waited.
“What?” he asked, staring at her.
“Pretty sure you didn’t use the magic word, Heavy,” Ghost offered helpfully.
Heavy cut his eyes to him, frowning. “You fucking serious?”
Ghost folded his arms.
Heavy let out a long exasperated breath. “Fine. May I please have a cup of coffee, ma’am?”
She grinned. “Why, yes, of course, sugar-pie. You want it black?”
Heavy frowned over at Ghost. “Sugar-pie? Did she just call me sugar-pie?”
“Yup,” Shades replied with a grin. Then he looked over at Jessie and added, “He loves it when women call him butterbean.”
Heavy pointed a finger at Ghost and warned, “She calls me butterbean and I’m leaving. Just sayin’.”
“Hmm. Butterbean. I’ll remember that in case I ever want to get rid of you,” Jessie teased, and then poured him some coffee.
Shades grabbed the last biscuit from Griz’s hand and shoved it in his mouth.
Griz looked like a kid who’d just had his candy taken from him. He glared over at his VP. “Sometimes you really kill my joy, you know that?”
Shades grinned around the mouthful of cheesy biscuit. “Hmm. Soooo good!”
“You suck.”
Shades just licked his lips in response.
“Karma has no expiration date,” Griz warned. “Just sayin.”
“I’m shaking in my boots.”
“You will be when I tell Skylar you’re eating biscuits when she’s got you eating low carb.”
“You fuckin’ tell her and you’ll be eating through a straw for the next three months.”
“Ooww, I’m shakin’ in my boots, now.”
“And why aren’t you home fucking your ol’ lady?” Ghost teased Shades.
“’Cause his future father-in-law is stayin’ in town and visiting his daughter,” Hammer offered with a chuckle.
Ghost’s eyes cut to Shades, and he grinned big. “That true, bro?”
“Motherfucking yes.”
“Got you a little on edge, does he?” Ghost teased.
Shades glared at him and snapped, “You’d be on edge too if the fucking New Orleans Chapter President was taking over your house.”
“Sucks to be you. But you’re the one that had to go and pick his daughter to make your ol’ lady,” Griz teased.
“Like I need you to remind me.”
“I’m sure Undertaker reminds you all the time,” Hammer added, grinning big.
“You two want to cut the shit long enough to tell me why you’re here?” Ghost asked.
“Let’s go outside. I need a smoke,” Shades growled.
They all headed out to the terrace and kicked back in the chairs.
Shades and Ghost, both dipped their heads, cupping their hands around their lighters as they lit up. Then they both tipped their heads back, exhaling long plumes of smoke in the air.
Ghost tossed his lighter on a glass side table with a clatter. “So, what’s up?”
“Butcher called a meeting,” Shades said, pulling his phone out and glancing at the time. “We got about half an hour before we need to head out.”
“And?”
“He wants us to bring your girl with us.”
“What the fuck for?” Ghost frowned.
“Wants her kept under lock and key until we get this meet set with the DKs.”
“Why?”
Shades shrugged. “Just coverin’ our bases, bro. You know we got a lot ridin’ on this deal.”
“She’s not goin’ anywhere, Shades,” Ghost growled. This was bullshit.
Shades nodded. “I know she’s not. That’s why he wants her in lockdown at the clubhouse.”
“Are you shittin’ me?”
“Nope.”
“What the hell for? Does he think I can’t keep her safe?”
“Ain’t about you keepin’ her safe. It’s about you controlling her.”
“Say what?”
“The woman’s headstrong. We’ve all seen it. Hell, I gotta remind you she slapped fucking Blood, of all people? Not a lot of chicks I know would dare to slap Blood.”
Ghost ran a frustrated hand down his face. “That doesn’t mean shit.”
“Look, Butcher’s afraid she’ll decide she doesn’t need you watchin’ out for her now that she’s back in her hometown.” Shades shrugged. “Just playin’ it safe. Makin’ sure she doesn’t— run off.”
“Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“As a heart attack, bro.”
Ghost surged to his feet and walked a few feet away, violently flinging his cigarette in the distance.
Shades moved to stand with him.
“I want to serve my club, Shades. But using her to do it—” he broke off shaking his head.”
“You gonna be able to keep your head on straight about this girl? You gonna be able to use her for the benefit of your club? You good with that?”
“Club first, right?”
“Right. You made that decision the day you put that cut on your back.”
Ghost nodded.
Shades slapped him on the back. “Maybe you don’t want any part of this. But you’re a loyal brother, so you better fall in line, like the rest of us.”
Ghost shrugged off his arm and headed back inside.
“Where you goin’?” Shades asked.
“To tell Jessie we’re ridin’ out in a few minutes. That okay with you? You do know how long it takes chicks to get ready, right?”
Shades grinned. “Right.”
***
Half an hour later, Jessie was standing on the curb outside with Ghost’s brothers. He had paused at the door to lock up, and Shades was up there talking to him, but she was too far away to hear any of it. Whatever it was, it made Ghost smile, which was good because ever since the guys got there, he’d been in a surly mood.
Griz leaned over to half whisper in her ear. “Ten bucks says you can’t get him to break formation on the way over to the clubhouse.”
Jessie looked at him, frowning, wondering if this was some type of test to see if she could hold her own with them. Never one to back down from a challenge, s
he knew she had to accept. If he thought she’d punk out, he didn’t know what she was made of. Well, bring it on, big guy. She smiled up at him. “You’re on, old man.”
Hammer just shook his head. “Didn’t you lose enough money already on this trip, Griz?”
Griz didn’t break eye contact with Jessie as he answered Hammer. “You stay outta this, this doesn’t concern you.”
“It’s your funeral,” Hammer replied.
“Wait, what?” Jess frowned, breaking eye contact with Griz to look over at Hammer. She was beginning to doubt the wisdom of this whole idea. Griz put his arm around her and turned her away.
“Don’t you pay no never mind to him. You got this, girl. I got faith in you.”
“And what’s the purpose of this again?”
He shrugged. “No purpose. Why has there gotta be a purpose? This is just you takin’ a bet. No harm in that. It’s all good, doll. Just havin’ a little fun.”
Jessie’s eyes narrowed as she eyed him, considering. “Twenty.”
Griz grinned. “Ooo. The girl’s confident. I like it. Okay, girly. You’re on.”
“Okay, wait. Let’s clarify. What exactly counts as breaking formation?”
“You get his bike to wobble. Better yet, you get him to cross the centerline. I’ll pay double for that.”
“The center line? But he could kill us?”
“You don’t do it when there’s oncoming traffic, missy. Ya gotta time this shit just right.” He paused, considering her slowly as if he was rethinking the bet. “You sure you’re up for this?”
Her spine straightened. Of course she was up for this! She’d never turned down a bet in her life. “I’ve got it.”
He reached up and ruffled the hair on the top of her head. “I like you. You’re gonna fit right in. Give ol’ Ghost a run for his money. He needs someone like you to shake him up.”
She couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face. God, she hoped those words were true, because she definitely needed Ghost.
“Hey, doll?”
She turned back.
“Here’s a little hint, cause I like ya.”
“Okay.”
He lifted his chin toward Ghost. “Put your hands anywhere they want to go. He likes when girls do that.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to get me in trouble?”
“Hell, gal, I’m trying to help you win.” He shrugged. “But suit yourself. I’m only a guy, what do I know about how we men like to be touched.”
