When the rest of us stop laughing, Charlotte waves her hand in the air, catching Jigsaw’s eye. “Not to rain on your pervert parade, but you realize not everyone’s first time might have been as pleasant and humorous as yours, right?”
That wipes the smile off Jiggy’s face. Yeah, he’s an asshole but he’s not completely insensitive.
Trinity raises her hand. “Mom’s bed with her thirty-five-year-old boyfriend when I was thirteen.”
Wrath squeezes her to his side and whispers something in her ear.
“Fuck,” Jigsaw mutters. “Where’s that dirtbag now?”
Rock’s the one who answers. “In the ground where he belongs.”
And that closes the coffin lid on that conversation.
“Football’s big in Texas, right, Shelby?” Sparky asks, smoothing over the awkward moment.
“Practically a religion.”
“Do you even know which one football is, Sparky?” Ravage asks.
“Yeah. There’s a ball.” Sparky’s indignant tone cracks us all up.
“Were you a cheerleader?” Jigsaw asks Shelby. “I bet you were. You have that cheerleader look.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head, blond curls flying around. “Couldn’t afford to buy a hummingbird on a string for a nickel, let alone those cute little cheerleader outfits. Besides, I was too busy workin’ and singin’ where I could.” She points her soda can at Jiggy. “I did sing the national anthem at several games, though.”
“How long are you on this current tour, Shelby?” Z asks.
She hesitates and darts a nervous look my way before answering. “Couple more months. Then I’m supposed to go into the studio. After that, my manager’s trying to get me on another tour.”
All those plans are news to me.
Doesn’t really matter, though. Shelby’s given me the green light to visit her while she’s on tour and I plan to take advantage of it as often as possible.
“With the same old dude?” Jigsaw asks.
“Dawson’s only thirty-eight,” Shelby says. “That’s not old.”
“Thank you, Shelby,” Z says.
Rock and Wrath both chuckle. Steer lobs a pine cone at Jigsaw’s head. I’m not even sure if Jigsaw realizes he just insulted half the club’s officers. On the other hand, I don’t care for Shelby sticking up for Dawson in any capacity.
“Anyway, no. Greg’s lookin’ into other options.” She shrugs. “I’ve got my bucket list of artists I’d like to tour with. Hoping he starts there.”
As much as I want her to achieve all her goals, I can’t deny how much I love having her right here with me.
I glance over at Shelby wishing like hell I had more to offer her.
While tonight’s been fun, even I have to admit, bonfires in the boonies with my club pales in comparison to touring the country and being on stage every night.
Shelby’s on her way to becoming a star. But the best nights I have to offer her are around a campfire under the stars.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rooster
The next morning, much sooner than I’d like, I’m watching Shelby pack up her stuff and helping her carry it all downstairs.
“I feel bad you can’t ride,” she says, staring at the truck.
“I’ll live.” I glance down at her bare legs and tiny denim shorts. “Looking over at your sexy legs for the next couple hours helps a lot.”
She wiggles her eyebrows and prances over to the truck, putting on a good show of climbing on the running board and bending over to “fix” stuff in the backseat.
I walk up behind her and run my hands from her thighs to her hips. “Why you trying to tease me? Hmm?”
“You two planning to go at it right here in the parking lot?” Jigsaw calls out.
I squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten before flipping him off.
“Those are some mighty fine shorts, Shelby,” Jigsaw says, “Always had a thing for daisy dukes.”
I stare him down. “Do you want to die? Painfully?”
“Thank you, Jigsaw.” Shelby turns and jumps off the truck, her boots crunching against the gravel.
My best friend will be begging for death if he keeps staring at her tits like he’s some damn homeless street dog.
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” I reach out and smack him upside the head.
“Paying the lady a compliment. Is that so wrong?”
“The compliment was lovely. I think it’s you droolin’ over my tits that’s gettin’ Rooster all peeved,” Shelby drawls. She cups her chest and stares down. “I know they’re fabulous, but have a little respect.”
Jigsaw’s mouth twists with amusement. “I like her.”
“Get out of here.” I shove him toward his bike and he laughs the whole way.
“You two really are like brothers,” Shelby says.
“He certainly works my last nerve like a little brother.”
Dex pops out of the garage for a last-minute review of the directions. At least he’s nothing but respectful to Shelby.
Once we’re on the Thruway headed west, Jigsaw and Dex pull in front of me.
Shelby’s been quiet for a few miles.
“You all right?” I ask her.
“Just thinking about tonight. Will it be weird for you if I warm up my voice a little?”
“Not at all.”
I wasn’t expecting a free concert but I also wasn’t expecting her to launch into humming. She works her way up to singing vowels from a low to high range. Every few minutes, she stops and sips her water.
“You all right?”
“The AC and the smoke from the weekend has me a little raspy.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“What was I gonna say? Put out the bonfire? Tell your brothers they can’t smoke in their own clubhouse?”
Well, now I feel like shit. “Is there anything I can stop and get for you?”
“Heidi packed some grapes and watermelon for me. I need the hydration.” She taps the side of her thermos. “Trinity sent me with some tea. We got lots of water back there. I’ll be okay.” She glances over at me. “Well, I might ask you to stop so I can pee a few dozen times.”
“Whatever you need. You should’ve told me, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or do anything to risk your voice.”
“And yet you’re always trying to make me scream your name.”
My mouth twitches. “That’s different.”
“Psh.” She waves her hand in front of her face and throws me one of her teasing smiles that does weird shit to my insides. After a few more sips of water, she goes back to humming and vocalizing.
“I never knew singers had a process like this,” I say when she finishes.
“Some probably don’t. I didn’t until I worked with a vocal coach on the show. I used to open my mouth and let whatever noises wanted to come out, out. Which is fine, if you’re singing for fun or tips. But if I want to be able to do this night after night, I need to take care of my voice.”
“And I want to help you do that. So next time, tell me.”
She glances over and rests her hand on my thigh. “Thank you.”
After a few miles, she fiddles with her phone. “We’re gettin’ close.”
Tonight, we’re all going in blind. None of us have ever been to this place.
“Hope the directions are good.”
I signal to the guys a couple miles before our exit. At least it’s not a state park.
“It says we should be able to drive right up to Gate 9A and let them know we’re on the list.”
These fairgrounds have much clearer signs letting us know where to go than the last one. Unfortunately, that also means the security will probably be on the ball.
Shelby and I are able to get past the gate because we’re on the list. Jigsaw and Dex have to wait outside.
“This is so ridiculous. Greg has to be able to get more passes for me,” Shelby fumes.
Especially if he can’t e
ven provide decent security for her.
After a flurry of texts, Jigsaw and Dex are added to the list and allowed to roll past the security gate.
Greg meets us at the entrance to the theater.
“More bikers?” He rakes his gaze over the four of us, finally landing on Shelby. “Are you kidding me?” Greg’s face is so red, I’m waiting for steam to shoot out of his ears.
“Easy, Greg.” I step up, placing myself between Greg and Shelby. “I asked some of my brothers to join us so we don’t have a repeat of the other night.”
“Well, I…” He backs off, blows out a breath, and drops the disrespectful attitude.
“And watch how you talk to Shelby,” I add, giving Greg a dose of lethal biker stare.
“There’s no money in the budget to pay for security.”
What a load of shit. Dawson’s got money coming out his ass, and he can’t afford to protect his opening act? What-the-fuck-ever.
“I don’t need her money.” I sneer at him.
“I’ll get you some extra passes so you can move through the venue without being hassled.” He turns and jogs down the hallway.
Good choice. Although I think it has more to do with not wanting to draw attention to Shelby’s biker entourage than our comfort.
Jigsaw’s shaking with laughter when I turn around. “You sure scared the piss outta him.” He lifts his chin at Shelby. “He get surly with you like that all the time?”
She glances at me before shrugging. “I pick my battles.”
Considering the unwanted attention and gossip article from the other night, I’m not expecting her to reach up and loop her arms around my neck. “Thank you,” she whispers, kissing my jaw. “I’m real happy you’re here tonight.”
Jigsaw clears his throat in a particularly loud, obnoxious way.
Shelby releases me. “I’m happy you and Dex are here too, Jiggy.”
“Thank you, darlin’.”
She giggles at his attempted southern accent, then turns serious. “I mean it. I’m sure you have better things to do. And I know you hate the music. I don’t want to take advantage of—”
“Don’t sweat it, Shelby.” Jigsaw grips my shoulder and gives me a shake. “I always got his back.” He shrugs. “Besides, hate’s a strong word. I never appreciated country music before.”
“Don’t let him fool you, Shelby,” Dex says. “He’s here to lure desperate girls into the shadows.”
“That’s hella creepy,” Shelby says.
“For a mutually pleasurable good time.” Jigsaw glares at Dex. “Stop making me sound like a serial killer.”
“Eh.” Dex wobbles his hand in the air and Jiggy smacks it away.
Greg returns in a calmer mood. He hands passes out to the four of us, then hands me two extras without comment.
“You guys can go check out the fair,” Shelby says.
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes the offer.
She curls her finger, inviting me to dip down closer. “I need to change and get my hair and makeup done. I assume your brothers won’t find that as entertaining as you do.”
She has a point.
“Seriously, go ahead,” she encourages. “I’d say bring me back some cotton candy but I can’t have the sugar before I go onstage.”
“Is there anything you do want?”
She casts a longing gaze toward the fairgrounds. “Nothing that’s good for me.”
I confirm the time of the meet and greet with Greg, then lean down and press a kiss to Shelby’s forehead. “Text me if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Jigsaw asks as we’re leaving the music center. “Take a few spins on the merry-go-round?”
“I’m gonna spin you around with my fist if you keep running your mouth,” I threaten.
“So testy.” He shoves me to the side.
“Feel free to be the creepy adult on the rides by himself, Jiggy.” Dex points toward a row of brown shacks straight ahead. “I’m going to grab some Dinosaur Bar-B-Que.”
Jigsaw searches the line of food trucks. “Sparky said there should be a chicken and waffle pizza at one of these places.”
“Sounds like Sparky,” Dex says.
I clutch my stomach. “That’s disgusting.”
“Don’t go yucking someone’s yum.” Dex smacks me on the back.
“Whatever.”
As we shoulder our way through the crowd of fairgoers, one small white tent catches my attention. “Give me a minute. I’ll catch up.” I slap Dex’s shoulder to get his attention.
Unfortunately, they both follow me into the tent.
“Since when are you into all this hippie shit?” Jigsaw casts a look at the incense, candles, bells, soaps, scarves, tapestries, and embroidered wall-hangings. “This place looks like the inside of Sparky’s head.”
“Shut up.” My gaze lands on the jewelry case and I step up, not quite sure what I’m searching for.
“Can I help you?” a soft voice asks from behind a wall of scarves. A few seconds later, an older woman pushes her way through. She doesn’t even blink at the three giant bikers taking up all the available space in her little tent shop.
Shit, I don’t know what Shelby likes. She doesn’t even wear a lot of jewelry. “Do you have tarot cards?” No, that’s stupid. Shelby already has a deck of them. Does she need another one? I’d probably get the wrong kind.
“Not here,” she says. “Are you looking for your girlfriend?”
It doesn’t exactly take a clairvoyant to tell I don’t belong here, so her question doesn’t shock me. “Yes.”
“She reads tarot?”
“I think so,” I answer, painfully aware my brothers are so damn close to this conversation.
“What about crystals?” she asks.
“Uh, I think she has a purple one.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s a singer.”
Her lips curve into a smile. “A free, creative spirit?”
“Sort of. She works hard though. Dedicated.”
She runs her hand over the glass counter slowly. Back and forth. “Much judgment and stress in her world.”
I think about the article Shelby showed me. “Yeah.”
She reaches into the case and pulls out a long, clear stone suspended from a purple silk cord. It’s simple but pretty. “Clear quartz. To absorb negativity and bring harmony. It also has many healing properties.”
“That’s one hell of a multi-tasking rock.” Jigsaw scoffs.
I glare at him and he grins.
“Bro, come on. It’s probably a hunk of melted glass,” Jigsaw says.
“Would you shut up?” Dex slaps Jiggy’s shoulder and pushes him toward the front of the tent.
The owner casts a look that drills home the meaning of evil eye Jigsaw’s way, wiping the goofy look off his face.
Ignoring him, she returns her attention to me. “Hold it.”
“What?” I scoop it off the counter. The stone’s cool and smooth in my hand.
“Real quartz is still cool to the touch, even if it’s a hot day. See the markings and imperfections?”
I study the small swirls and patterns of the stone and nod.
“Fake ones would be symmetrical and perfect.”
Since I honestly don’t believe in any of this shit, it doesn’t matter if it is a hunk of glass. I just want to give Shelby something pretty.
The woman quotes what seems like a reasonable price—not that I’d know the difference. I hand her some cash. She wraps it up in a box and tucks it into a bag.
“Thank you.” I stuff the little bag into my inner jacket pocket and meet my brothers outside.
“If you open your mouth, you’ll be eatin’ your chicken and waffles with a straw tonight,” I warn Jigsaw.
He fights to wipe the grin off his face. “I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to be a dick to the woman.”
“I was just
messing around. She could tell that I’m a jovial spirit.”
“She probably put a hex on you.” Dex says. “I’d be careful for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Your dick might turn green and fall off.”
“What? That’s not true. Why would she do that? My dick didn’t do anything.”
“I don’t know.” Dex shrugs. “You were pretty rude. Maybe your tongue will fall out instead.”
The panicked expression on Jigsaw’s face is too irresistible. I must fuck with him. “Yeah, I heard about this guy down in Virginia once who gave some fortune-teller lip and his dick rotted clean off a few weeks later. No one could explain why it happened.”
“Now I know you’re lying. You wouldn’t go to a fortune-teller.”
“Never said it was me, jackass. Met the guy after it happened and he told me the whole story. Why do you think I won’t go to one?”
His expression falters and I barely keep a straight face. God, I love when he falls for shit I make up on the spot.
“Fuckers,” Jigsaw grumbles before stomping ahead of us.
Dex elbows me and the two of us bust up laughing.
“That was almost too easy.” Dex wipes a few tears from his eyes when we’re done laughing.
While all this fucking around has been fun, it’s time for me to get back to Shelby. I can screw off with my brothers whenever I want, but who knows how long it’ll be until I see my girl again?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rooster
Not wanting to leave Shelby alone for too long, I part ways with the guys after the food court and head back to the theater. Ahead of me, a biker in a black cut catches my attention. I stop, recognizing the three-piece patch on the back.
He turns and I wave, pushing my way past people.
“Rooster.” Chaser holds out his hand as he approaches me. “Good to see you.”
We shake hands and he pulls me in, slapping my back a few times. “Good to see you too.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement. Security guards pile up next to each other, talking while keeping an eye on us. I’m sure they see two different MC cuts and assume we’re rivals about to kick off a turf war. At the fair. Fuckin’ idiots.
Chaser follows my line of sight and huffs out a laugh. “Rent-a-bouncers don’t look like they have more than three brain cells between them to rub together.” He returns his attention to me. “How you been? Who else is with you?”
Rhythm of the Road Page 17
