“Okay, buddy, let’s go.”
We followed Sundance to his Harley, and he spent a stupid amount of time letting Teddy touch the bike, even sit on it, before I thought I might freeze to death if I stayed outside any longer.
“You wanna come meet my kids?” Sundance asked Teddy.
My brother looked to me for permission and I smiled. “You ready to make some new friends?”
He bobbed his head and we made our way inside.
I couldn’t help myself from holding my breath as Sundance led us into a giant great room that looked like something out of a mountain home architectural digest. Well, other than the pool tables, haphazardly positioned furniture, and random bikers filling the room.
I saw Orion make a beeline for us and I smiled. A familiar face always felt good in new settings. A beautiful brunette followed, and I deduced it was his girlfriend. Sundance had mentioned her during chemo.
“Hey, Wyatt,” Orion said, pulling me in for a hug.
“Hi,” I replied.
“No!” Teddy snapped.
“He’s not hurting me, Teddy Bear,” I said, breaking the hug. “You remember Orion, right? He was at Chuck’s.”
Teddy didn’t look sure.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Sundance said. “This is Orion. He’s my son.”
Orion smiled and slid an arm around his girlfriend’s waist. “And this is Raquel.”
Teddy smiled at Raquel. “Pretty.”
“Yeah, she is,” Orion agreed. “Do you want to see the pinball machines?”
“You have pinball machines?” I asked.
“Yeah. A guy named Ropes out of the Burning Saints in Portland is kind of a nut for vintage machines. He buys and sells them online and always lets us know when the good stuff is available. We have three now, thanks to that fucker.”
“Well, you’ll never get him away from them,” I warned. “The only thing he loves more than pinball is skee-ball, and you’ve seen what happens when you try to take him away from skee-ball.”
“Great,” Orion said. “Come on.”
Teddy looked to me again and I nodded. “Go ahead, buddy, I’m right behind you.”
Teddy went off with Orion, staying in sight of me and Sundance faced me. “Drink?”
“Yes,” I breathed out. “Please.”
“Suck a bag of dicks!” someone bellowed.
I turned at the sound of the screechy, feminine voice and found a drop-dead gorgeous blonde virtually hissing at a just as gorgeous biker who was grinning at her like he was enjoying the show.
“Sierra, you gonna stow that anger or am I gonna deal with it?” he asked.
“That’s Wrath,” Sundance said. “And Sierra apparently wants him to eat a bag of dicks, but that’s no different than yesterday, so he must not have complied.”
I chuckled, inching closer to Sundance. I had never experienced anyone yelling like that and it was a little disconcerting, albeit funny. Sundance slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, guiding me to the bar.
“Ratchet’s our treasurer,” he said. “He’s the one downing the beer by the pool table.”
“Daddy?” a female voice called.
