Page 67
“Let’s see. Fuzz was a cop,” Kodiak says, pointing to Fuzz, who tips his hat at us and Izzy smiles. “Smith is just because that’s his last name.”
“Super unoriginal,” she says to him and he shrugs as he takes a drink of his beer.
“Storm here was named by Red’s old lady. She said he always looked like he had a storm brewing in his mind because of his eyes.”
Izzy glances over at them and nods. “Yeah, I could see that. Not so much anymore.”
Ali grins and Logan squeezes her tighter, kissing her cheek.
“Aw. It makes me want to barf,” Streak says and the guys laugh as someone nudges Logan.
“Ah, Streak got his name because he’s the luckiest son of a bitch you’ve ever met. Seriously, don’t ever play cards with him.”
“I’ve just got skills, bro,” Streak says and Kodiak shakes his head.
“No, what you’ve got is like some crazy voodoo magic that I want no part in.”
“I’ve got to go with Kodiak on this one, Streak,” Blaze says from the table next to us. “I’ve never met a guy who finds more money layin’ on the ground than you do.”
“Whatever,” Streak mumbles, a smile still on his face as he sips his beer.
“Who’s left? Oh, Chance – also just his name. Super unoriginal. And Blaze is because he used to like to play with fire a little too much.”
“Keyword there, used to,” Blaze says and Kodiak nods.
“Wait. What about you?” I ask Kodiak, trying my best to ignore the burning sensation of Chance’s gaze glued to me.
“Mine is ‘cause I’m from Alaska.”
“Wait, hold on. That’s only part of it,” Moose says, his cheeks finally returning to their regular color. “You know how grizzly bears in Alaska are so much bigger and meaner than ones you find in the lower forty-eight?”
“Yeah,” I respond, nodding. Moose motions to Kodiak, who just rolls his eyes.
“Oh, please, I’m just a big teddy bear.”
“Is that why you almost got arrested when you went home last year and saw that guy talking to your baby sister?”
Kodiak growls and takes a sip of his beer. “Whatever. That little fucker had it coming.”
“I feel like we’re forgetting someone,” Smith says, leaning forward and looking around the circle.
“Henn,” Logan says from behind Ali. Kodiak snaps his fingers.
“That’s right. Blaze tells that story the best though.”
Blaze chuckles and leans forward, placing his beer on the table. “When Henn was prospecting in, we had a party one night. The guys had been riding him hard cause some of them didn’t think he belonged in the club and he wanted to prove himself. He drank so much goddamn Hennessey that he just ran around the clubhouse naked screaming, “I am Hennessey!” at the top of his lungs.” He shrugs. “The name stuck.”
“Oh, man. That’s great.” Izzy stands up and smiles at the guys gathered around the picnic table, laying it on thick as she bats her eyelashes. “Now, which one of you is going to show me where the booze is?”
“I got ya, Darlin’,” Kodiak says, jumping up and flashing her a sly grin. He may think he knows her game, but I can almost guarantee that he’s not ready for the unstoppable force that is Isabelle Hutton.
“Mmhmm,” Izzy hums, letting her gaze drop down his body before she spins around and walks off, putting a little extra swing in her hips. Kodiak follows behind her with his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth and I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing. No doubt, Izzy will have him on his back underneath her before the night is over.
My gaze drifts to Ali, cuddled up in Logan’s lap with a blissfully happy smile on her face that makes my chest ache. I can’t help but look at how happy she is and want that for myself even if I know it’s a terrible idea. I can’t stop thinking about what Chance said in Ali’s bathroom last week – about how he would wait as long as it took for me – and then I start thinking about what Aunt Dottie said. The thought of him going away, leaving my life for good, hurts more than I want to admit but even thinking of giving our relationship a shot still scares me.
“Let’s get some music going,” Streak says, pulling me from my thoughts as he hops up from the picnic table and pulls a remote out of his pocket. He points toward the clubhouse behind me and Thunder Kiss ’65 by Rob Zombie starts playing. A few of the guys start talking about a run they have coming up this week and I let my gaze wander around the circle as I sip my beer.
My skin prickles with the sensation of being watched again and I glance to my side. Chance doesn’t look away when I meet his pale green eyes and my cheeks heat. God, how the hell does he still make me all tingly with just a look? Turning away from him, I drain my beer and sigh, glancing over my shoulder to the black brick building that serves as the Bayou Devils clubhouse before deciding to go in search of another beer. As I open the door to the clubhouse, I’m surprised by the décor. It’s manly but clean and it looks like a fun place to hang out. There’s a bar along one wall and a couple of pool tables off in the opposite corner. Couches line the wall to my left and a couple round tables with chairs fill the middle of the room. I don’t know what I was expecting but this isn’t it.
