For now, that had to be enough.
I returned to counting cans of tomatoes, mentally adding cupcake ingredients to tomorrow's list. At least I could give Bug his chocolate cupcakes with the "swirly stuff" on top. Makingothers happy through food—that was something I could do, mate or no mate.
I finished noting the last items on my inventory list and closed the tablet app with a satisfied tap. The pantry was well-stocked for most things, but the shopping list for tomorrow had grown to a decent size.
Before finalizing it, I needed to check with Butch about any special requests for Doby. The toddler bear cub was the newest addition to our unconventional family, and his needs changed almost weekly as he grew.
Butch and Treat were still figuring out parenthood, and I was determined to make at least the feeding part easier for them.
I headed toward Butch's office, tablet tucked under my arm. The clubhouse was relatively quiet this morning—most of the guys were either out on runs or working at Gunner's garage. The silence made my footsteps echo slightly down the hallway lined with framed photos of motorcycles and club members past and present.
Butch's office door stood open, but I knocked on the frame anyway. You didn't just walk in on the MC president without announcing yourself, open door or not.
Hierarchy mattered, even among friends.
He looked up from a stack of papers, reading glasses perched on his nose in a way that would have looked scholarly if not for the massive beard and tattoos covering his forearms.
Butch was a mountain of a man, intimidating to most, but I'd known him long enough to see past the gruff exterior to the deeply loyal heart beneath.
"Need something, Rooster?" he asked, removing his glasses and setting them aside.
"Shopping run tomorrow," I said, stepping inside. "Anything special Doby needs this week?"
Butch's expression immediately softened at the mention of his adopted son. The change never failed to amaze me—how the fearsome biker transformed when it came to the cub and his mate.
"Apple juice," he replied without hesitation. "The organic kind in the glass bottles. We're down to the last one, and you know how he gets if we run out."
I nodded, adding it to my list. Doby's tantrums were legendary when his favorite things weren't available. The kid had Butch wrapped around his little finger, and everyone knew it.
"Got it. Anything else?" I asked.
"Maybe those animal crackers he likes? The ones in the blue box."
I nodded again, making another note. "Bug's coming with me shopping tomorrow. Kid wants chocolate cupcakes, so we're making a deal—he helps carry bags, I get baking supplies."
Butch's mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. "Good. Kid needs normal shit like that."
"If you see Bear before I do, let him know Bug's coming with me? Don't want him thinking Bug wandered off again."
"Will do." Butch leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. "Speaking of wandering, Gearhead mentioned picking up an unfamiliar scent around the back of the property. You seen anyone creeping around the backyard?"
I hesitated, weighing my words. I hadn't exactly been keeping the homeless kid a secret, but I hadn't exactly announced it either. Something protective stirred in me, but lying to Butch wasn't an option.
"Yeah, there's a homeless kid I've been feeding. Just for a couple of months," I admitted. "Skinny thing, probably early twenties at most. Leaves the containers stacked nice and neat. Never caused any trouble."
Butch's eyebrows drew together. "You've been feeding some stranger hanging around our property for months and didn't think to mention it?"
Put that way, it did sound bad.
"He's harmless, Butch. Just hungry."
"Harmless isn't for you to decide without information," he said, his voice taking on the edge of authority that reminded everyone exactly why he was president. "What do we know about this kid? Could be a scout for the Dough Boys. They’ve been causing trouble lately.”
I shook my head. "He's not with the Dough Boys or anyone else. I think he might be a lynx shifter, actually. Scared, undernourished. Got these golden eyes I spotted today. Been leaving food out for him, and tonight I gave him a bag of supplies since winter's coming."
"You approached him?" Butch's frown deepened.
"Briefly. Just to give him the food bag. He took off right after."
