So much for getting her out of his system.
“Cop, leave him alone,” Maverick said, rolling his eyes. “He did his job and brought her home. She’ll talk when she’s ready.”
Did that mean they suspected something more brewed beneath the surface of Beth’s excuses? Maybe, but they probably weren’t thinking her boyfriend fucking beat her. No way would Copper sit there calm and not murder someone if he did.
Saint shifted as though he could wriggle away from the discomfort while clearing his throat. “Pretty sure she’d cut my balls off if I tried to speak for her.”
That had Copper cracking a grin. “True. My daughter knows how to take men down a few pegs. If there’s one thing I taught her, it’s not to put up with bullshit from assholes.”
Christ, he was going to flip his shit when he found out the truth.
“Right.” Saint ran a hand through his hair.
“Hey there, Saint, these handsome devils said you were coming. What can I get going for you?”
Saved by the waitress. Thank God.
“Hey, Mel. Cinnamon roll waffles for me,” he said to their beaming waitress. She, like the other staff at the diner, wore a light blue T-shirt with the diner’s logo and a denim skirt. Her long, curly hair was tied back at the nape of her neck.
“You got it, sweetie. I’ll put a rush on it, so your meal comes out with the rest.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, letting it linger as she focused on the rest of the table. “Anyone need a coffee refill?”
“We’re good, Mel. Thanks,” Copper said with a nod.
Melody took it for the dismissal that Copper meant it to be. “Sounds good. I’ll be back with your food in a few minutes.”
As she turned away, she let her fingertips trail down Saint’s arm.
“Someone’s hungry,” Maverick said, eyes gleaming.
“Of course I’m fucking hungry. It’s ten, and I haven’t eaten.”
Rocket snorted. “Not what he meant.”
Grinning like the idiot he was, Maverick laughed. “Yeah, I’m talking about Mel. That girl is starving, and I don’t mean for fucking waffles. She’s more interested in the sausage.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Your sausage, to be specific.”
“Your sense of humor froze when you turned fourteen,” Rocket muttered.
Mav shrugged, completely unrepentant. To know and love Maverick was to accept his constant innuendo and out-there personality. God knew how his ol’ lady, Stephanie, put up with him for so many years.
“You hit that?” Mav asked.
“Nah, not my type.”
“What?” Mav glanced over his shoulder at the counter. “She’s fucking cute. Got a great ass, good tits, and clearly wants you. Plus, she’s always so sweet. What the fuck’s not to like?”
“It’s the sweet thing,” Rocket said as he sipped his coffee. “Saint doesn’t do sweet. He’s too fucked up for sweet.”
“What the hell?” He lifted his hands and scoffed. “Fuck’s sake, I’m sitting right here, and I can speak for my fucking self, thank you.”
“Okay, why are you passing up on readily available pussy?”
Well, shit. Melody hit on him every damn time he came into the diner during her shift. She frequently showed up at club parties as well, dressed like a snack, and gave clear signs of her interest. And he’d never gone for it for one particular reason.
“She’s too fucking sweet,” he mumbled, making two of the three men at the table laugh.
“Told ya.” Rocket’s expression never changed.
“You don’t gotta keep her. Have some fun and move on.” Rumor had it, before he met his ol’ lady, Mav was the king womanizer of the MC. Saint had never witnessed it since it happened before his time. All he’d ever seen was the man so obsessed with his woman that he barely gave her a moment of peace.
