The airat the church meeting changed. Gone were the lackadaisical attitudes and apathetic looks. The Knights were on full alert as they sat around their tables. Wolf banged the gavel once, but the room was already quiet, everyone waiting to hear the latest news.
“Yinz heard about the bookstore last night. Bri is in the hospital. Shook up, but otherwise okay.” His mouth turned grim. “Edna Clauson took the insurance money from her store and moved to Chambersburg with her daughter. Justin and Rorrie are opening their coffee place again, but on the other side of town. Garfield….” He paused and cleared his throat. “Fuck, this is hard. Garfield passed this morning. Something about throwing a clot.” Wolf shook his head and inhaled sharply through his nose. “This shit has to stop.”
Camshaft agreed. If Crossman and Ratchet hadn’t been “on patrol” last night, Bri would probably be dead. This morning, her bookstore was a blackened hull among the other businesses. The spa might also have burned to the ground and quite possibly taken Sabrina with it.
His fists tightened to the point of cramping. The thought of any harm coming to the woman currently sleeping at his housemade him want to pound his fists into something until it broke or at least got really bloody.
Wolf let out his breath and laid the gavel on the table. “I got the bylaw template Stud sent me from the Dragon Runners MC. Pretty standard stuff, but we can get to that part later. Specs, we need an update on the rally. The money we raise is gonna make a big difference to the Hob family. Garfield didn’t make peanuts, but he wasn’t rich either. Mira needs all the help she can get.”
Specs grinned widely and stood to give his report. Cam’s thoughts were distracted when Ratchet whispered, “Boy Scout,” to Crossman. He didn’t care. Specs did the best he could to fit in, and right now, his nerdy ADHD was needed.
“I got the permits all squared away. That local band, Spindle 45, is gonna play from noon to three. I tried to get them to play longer, but they have a gig that night. Who knew it took so long to set up microphones and amps and stuff? Anyway, we got four food trucks that will donate all the money they make to the family, less costs. I think that means they’ll just give the profits, but that’s okay.”
Cam tuned out the rambling man. Whatever role he had to play in this rally, he’d play, but at that moment, his focus centered on the woman in his bed. Last night, or rather early this morning, he and Quillon managed—with a lot of cursing and careful movements—to get her van and trailer out of the alley and to his place. Street parking was easiest at that time, and he’d found a spot reasonably close to his house. Later today, he’d move them both in the back near his garage. His spare bedrooms weren’t ready for guests, so he’d insisted Sabrina take his bed and he’d sleep on the sofa. Of course, she had to argue with him.
“I ain’t takin’ your bed, Cam.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is, sugar. I’ll just sleep in my van.”
They had a stare-down for several minutes before he spoke again.
“Look, Sabrina, if you’re out there by yourself with nothing but a couple lizards for protection, I’m gonna go crazy.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Are you doin’ that reverse psychology shit on me?”
“Probably, but I’m not kidding. I can’t stand the thought of you sleeping in your van when I have a house with an available bed waiting.”
Her stance grew rigid as she crossed her arms and dug in. “So I’m supposed to get in your bed foryourconvenience?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
The standoff didn’t last long. Exhaustion finally kicked in, and she relented.
“I repeat, I ain’t takin’ your bed, but I’ll compromise. You need to protect me, you can stay with me in the van like we did before.”
It was the best he was going to get. “You got it.”
This morning, he woke up to a warm female body curled into his side with one arm wrapped over his chest and one leg draped over his thigh. A sense of contentment had welled up in his chest. He could get used to this. The goal now was to get her comfortable in his house so they could be in a real bed and not this small mattress setup.
He’d eased himself out from under her and got ready for this morning’s church meeting. She’d mumbled something before passing back out. He penned a quick note to tell her where he was and ask her to text him when she got up. Before he left, he couldn’t resist bending over and brushing his lips on her forehead. It just felt right.
“…Kiss the Knights booth will be on the corner.”
Specs’s words startled Cam back into the present. “What did you say?”
Quillon suppressed a grin. “Specs decided the young single Knights are gonna man a kissing booth to help raise money. That’s Ratchet, Crossman, Stalemate, and you.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.” Quillon popped thep. “Tickets are five bucks apiece. Better bring your Chapstick. I expect the proceeds will pay off the firstandsecond mortgages on Hob’s house.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Me neither,” Crossman agreed.
“But we need at least four to man the booth!” Specs whined.
