“Pretty fucking amazing, yeah?” Crossman remarked as they waited in line for coffee at the Dapper Bean coffee truck. Several more trucks had set up in spots around the neighborhood park. Pizza, tacos, corn dogs, and funnel cakes were available. Kids had a face-painting booth and a long row of carnival type games. Several local crafters were scattered around selling doodads like soap, candles, and jewelry.
“Specs outdid himself,” Cam agreed.
The turnout surprised him, but it pleased him too. The club’s display included some vintage and custom bikes and the opportunity to take pictures while sitting on them. Cash already filled the donation jar next to the Harley Fatboy, and the clock hadn’t hit noon yet.
Kiss the Knights had turned into a Date Knight raffle. Ratchet, Crossman, Melter, and Stalemate agreed to take four winners on some sort of date that involved a ride on the back oftheir motorcycle—after his night with Sabrina, Cam had pulled his name from the single-bikers category. Crossman mentioned going through Wheeling, West Virginia. Roughly an hour out, some sort of food, and an hour back. The outings were supposed to be scheduled for the next weekend as long as the weather held out. Cam didn’t consider a date with a Knight to be a big deal, but apparently it was, seeing as the paper tickets were almost sold out.
Two screaming kids ran past them with balloon animals in their hands, their dad chasing after them. Cam watched them go and wondered what Scrap was up to. He hadn’t been around the club since his hospital stay. Sabrina had gone by his house to confront him, but she hadn’t told him anything about what happened. This relationship was too new, and Cam had no intention of rocking any boats. He had baggage himself he needed to share with her when they got to the full-disclosure phase. He wanted to give her the same respect, but he had so many questions about her meeting with Scrap and how she’d ended up in that emotional state when he found her.
She did tell him she’d met Mary, Baghouse’s wife. That was news to him, as he didn’t know Baghouse was married.
Cam frowned as the line moved forward. Communication needed to improve within the club. Baghouse feeling the need to keep that part of his life a secret was weird. The extent of Melter’s drug habits also bugged him. Scrap’s absence made Cam think something serious was going on. He got the part about being private, but if anything concerned the club, he and the rest of the Knights needed to know about it.
Specs bustled by with a clipboard in his hands and a big grin on his bespectacled face. “We’re way under budget for this. So cool!”
Cam held back his amusement at the nerdy little guy. “That’s fantastic, Specs. You’ve done a great job with everything.”
The man puffed out his chest and preened. “It’s for a good cause, right?”
“Absolutely. Want a coffee?”
Specs shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Got the adrenaline going, n’at. I’ll see yous later.”
Cam and Crossman got to the barista, and both were surprised to see Jazz manning the food truck.
“Hiya, guys. I’m helping Rorrie today, so don’t look at me like that. It’s been cranking all morning, and he needed some extra hands.” Jazz’s signature blue hair showed dark brown roots, as was expected in the growing-out process.
“I’ll get a latte with extra foam and a shot of vanilla,” Crossman ordered as he pulled out his wallet.
“On the house, boys. Yinz just keep watching and helping. What’s for you, Cam?”
“Do you make plain coffee?”
Jazz blinked. “Well… um… yeah?”
“Then I want two large coffees. One black, one cream and sugar.”
She laughed. “Okay, I get it. Coming right up.”
Coffees in hand, the two men wandered through the crowded park. People were walking and talking with big smiles on their faces. The band set up early and had started their first set exactly at noon. A group of kids were dancing with wild abandon to music from the eighties and nineties—songs so old they were popular with their parents and grandparents but were still rocking even today.
Off to one side of the park, between an essential oils seller and a leathersmith, the spa had brought in two massage chairs. A tall and thin African American man rubbed down a large woman whose ample figure spilled over the seat. Sabrina worked on her twin, who appeared even larger.
“Hey, babe, I brought you a coffee. Should still be hot.”
Sabrina paused to take a healthy swallow before continuing to press into the woman’s shoulders. “How are you doing, Emma?”
The woman giggled. “I’m doing great. Even better now. I bought a whole roll of raffle tickets for the Date Knight thing. I’m sooooo hoping I’ll win!”
Cam’s first thought was if she did, whoever got her would have to put extra shocks on his bike. “I hope you do too.”
Emma giggled again.
“Okay, milady, your time is up,” Sabrina said. “I hope you feel better.”
The woman rolled her massive shoulders. “Oh, yes! Much better. Do you have a card?”
Sabrina handed her one, and Cam noticed her name was on them. He grinned at the small confirmation that she planned on sticking around. Her presence in his life had formed into a comfortable habit, and he liked it. A lot.
