His chest glistened with a light sheen of manly sweat. I wished that my life were different, so I could have been down there with him, laughing and smiling without a care in the world. I sighed and tore my gaze away, looking back at Gracie, my eyes full of feigned innocence. “I just asked him for a light.”
She grinned wider. “Well he’d definitely set my panties on fire—how about that for a light?”
We both burst out laughing as she turned a corner, and I resigned myself to put him from my mind. I had no right to be looking at another man or thinking the things I had been thinking.
I was already taken.
I was the old lady of a feared biker. That was my life, and I needed to get on board with that and accept it. Maybe I could even learn to be happy with it eventually. It wasn’t like it was a bad life—it just wasn’t the one that I had wanted. What had started out with Ripped as a bit of fun had quickly turned into something much more serious than I had expected. But he was a good man deep down, and I could do a hell of a lot worse.
~ 4 ~
Battle
I sat back on my haunches, examining the tangled mess of rusted metal and burnt wires that was once the beat-up, old-as-shit A/C unit of our clubhouse. I’d been taking it apart for the past hour or so ready to install the new one. But it wasn’t just the unit that needed replacing, it looked like the entire wiring for the clubhouse was screwed up.
I scratched a hand down my chest and shook my head. The sun was beginning to set, and there wasn’t much left that I could do that evening. I put all my tools back in my toolbox and closed the lid before grabbing the beer I had been drinking and making my way to the edge of the roof. I sat down, letting my legs hang over the side, and I watched the sun set over Georgia while I drank my beer and relaxed.
The sound of Harleys roared in the distance and I watched as Hardy, Rider, and Butch pulled into the clubhouse grounds, followed by Ripped and a couple of his guys. They’d been over at the Pit for most of the day, talking business and getting blowjobs, no doubt. It was a good life when business and pleasure could go hand in hand like that.Or hand to mouth, I thought with a snicker.
A high-end truck drove in after the bikes, and I swigged the last of my beer down and watched it closely, wondering if it was a customer or not. The Devil’s Highwaymen wasn’t just a motorcycle club; we ran several successful businesses, including the Pit and a couple of bars, but our biggest money earner was without a doubt our garage—Hardy & Sons. It was no secret that the Highwaymen hired some of the most talented engineers in all of Georgia and people flocked to us from all over. Sometimes for custom jobs, other times for simple oil changes. Either way, a job from our garage was something everyone wanted. And whoever owned that truck had money. Lots of it.
I stood up and headed toward the main clubhouse. Back inside I grabbed a rag and wiped over my hands and chest, wiping away the oil and sweat from working on the unit. I passed through the clubhouse and kept on going toward the garage, happy to see that Axle was sitting at the counter flipping through a parts brochure. He looked up as I entered.
“Hey, man, how’s it coming on?” he asked. His long straight hair was tied back from his face and his usual beanie hat nowhere in sight. “Tell me the A/C is almost done,” he pleaded.
“Got at least another day on it, brother. Wiring was shot too, so think I’m gonna have to look at getting in new wiring through the building before the year is out,” I replied. “Think you’ve got a customer, by the way. A truck just pulled up out front.”
Axle slid off his stool and we both headed through the main doors of the garage to the yard outside. I watched as the truck door opened and a woman with a little black bob haircut jumped down, her stiletto heels clattering on the hard ground. Bitch was skinny, but fine as hell. She pulled off her large sunglasses and looked around, her gaze taking in the clubhouse with a look of longing, like a good girl that wanted to taste the bad.
“You want me to check it out?” I asked with a grin.
Axle patted me on the back and let out a heavy breath. “Go right ahead. River would cut my dick off if she caught me talking to a woman like that.”
“It’s why I like her so much,” I replied with a wink. “I don’t have to fight you for any of the women that come in here.”
Axle leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking at me, and I strutted over to Miss Tight-and-Prissy, still wiping the sweat and grease off my chest.
She looked over at me as I got closer, her gaze holding mine. Yeah, she was going to get it all right. I looked her up and down, assessing her body like the chauvinistic bastard I was. She was way too skinny for my liking, like she lived on lettuce and bottled water, but she was still hot. Small, firm tits, long legs, and tanned skin.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” I asked, giving her my best drawl.
She quirked a smile at me, a look of mischief in her eyes that sent a jolt to my dick. “Not me, no, but my friend needs an oil change if you’re up for the job,” she taunted with a wink. She held out her hand to me and I took it in mine, noting the smooth-as-silk skin and perfect manicure. “My name’s Gracie.”
As long as her friend didn’t look like the back end of a horse, I was game. Any hole’s a goal, right?
“Pleasure to meet you, Gracie. I’m Battle, and I’m here forallyour servicing needs,” I replied with a wink, and her smile grew wider to reveal perfect white teeth. “We can even do a two-for-one discount if you’d like.”
She giggled like a sweet-assed eighteen-year-old, her cheeks flushing. “Bitch! Get your ass over here,” she called over her shoulder, her chest and throat flushing pink.
I looked over to Hardy and the rest of my brothers, who were standing near Ripped’s bike, talking and smoking. Most of them looked wasted and shouldn’t have been riding back, but as usual, Butch was sober. Gone was the lightness I’d seen on him earlier and back was the darkness draped over his shoulders.
“Here she is,” Gracie said, drawing my attention back to her.
I smiled and watched as the sexy-as-fuck woman from earlier walked from around the other side of the truck with a baby in her arms. Her eyes were wary, full of nervousness and concern as our gazes collided like a car crash.
“It’s you,” I said, half in a daze as I watched her holding the pink bundle of moving pudge in her arms. “And you have a kid?” I said with even more surprise. I hadn’t expected that, but I guess it didn’t really matter too much. Not unless she had a man whose ass I’d have to kick anyway.
“Oh god no, that little shit monster is mine,” Gracie replied, scooping up the baby. “Quinn, this is Battle. Battle, Quinn. And the little shit monster is Bonny, though she’s anything but fucking bonny.”
