Protect Page 22

  It was Sharon. He felt his heart speed up at the sight of her, like always, and then he checked his crew to see if anyone else had spotted her. Jayce had, and he gave her a chin nod which she returned, but her eyes were also scanning the group. He fucking felt it when she found him. He had to smile, he couldn’t help it.

  He hadn’t seen her since that night he’d shoved his way into her world, falling asleep on her couch with her dog then making love to her in her bed. No contact at all for four days. It was torture. Now that he knew she wanted him it was killing him not to go to her. But things had been busy the last while, to say the least.

  The shoes were black with a low heel, her skirt came to her knees. Jesus, in a skirt yet. A snug one, that fit her thighs and hips but kicked out below that. Her top was a black knit thing with long sleeves, but that fit everything nicely, too. Her hair was loose, falling to the front and back of her shoulders, glossy and wavy. His cock filled out painfully given the position he was in, sitting on his bike like this. He tried to move his hips to give it room.

  She didn’t smile back, but she caught his motion and her eyes got wide, like she couldn’t believe his reaction. It almost made him want to laugh.

  “Holy shit. Is that Downey?”

  He jumped like he’d been caught playing with himself. “What?” he asked, head going to the opposite side as soon as Tiny had spoken.

  “That’s Sheriff Downey,” Tiny said with a jerk of his chin. “Jesus. That’s what was under than uniform, huh?”

  A proprietary flare of jealousy had him sitting up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

  Tiny laughed. “You lose your dick overnight? She’s over there in sex kitten heels and an easy-access skirt and you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

  Fritter wanted to punch him, for no fucking reason. Plus now he was imagining bending her over with that skirt and those shoes still on. “Yeah, she’s hot,” he agreed, looking back to where she was making her way across the grass of the treed clearing they’d disposed of Mickey in. She stopped and turned, and that’s when he realized Jayce was approaching her.

  “Uh oh,” Tiny muttered.

  “What?” He looked back to the old fucker, the oldest current member of the club anyway.

  “Nothing,” Tiny muttered, turning the key in his Dyna Glide and cutting their conversation short.

  Jayce couldn’t still be pissed, could he? Nah. He was likely thanking her for keeping the feds away from Mickey’s case. Fritter wasn’t worried; he started his bike as well and waited for his Prez to return to the flock.

  As he waited he watched them talking, trying to gauge their body language. It was difficult. Sharon was good with the public figure mask, and Jayce’s poker face was spectacular. When his Prez returned Sharon was already gone.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, trying his best to sound casual.

  “What? Oh, yeah. I just wanted to thank her for keeping the feds out of this with Mickey. Told her to stop by but I doubt she will.”

  Fritter nodded as Jayce’s bike joined the noisy rumble of the club. Jayce, Tank and Fritter led the way out of Markham County Park and Campground, the car carrying the women behind them. The Markham Red Rebels followed, then the Nomad chapter.

  They were a noisy convoy until they hit the highway, then it was all out riding. Not too warm for the kutte and long-sleeved shirt. Under any other circumstance it would be the ideal day for a ride.

  The journey ended at the compound with everyone pulling into their spots, the car parking at the door. Nomads found spaces on the asphalt that was free. They filed into the hall and the smell of food was thick in the air. A long table was set up along one wall, Sterno burners lit underneath metal serving trays already. Two sweetbutts were ready at the bar, a few more getting to their feet, ready to be service and cleaning help for the remainder of the afternoon.

  Trinny had just arrived the day before, so Fritter knew she hadn’t been in on these preparations. Gertie had a new baby and Jolene was catatonic so it must have been Rose, which would make sense. She was used to a hen house full of preening pussy; she’d know how to handle sweetbutts.

  Watching her now as she walked along the buffet, stopped a girl in teetering heels and tight jeans and asked her for something, his suspicions were confirmed. She’d taken over the strip club in Trinny’s absence, and now she was the queen of the clubhouse, too. He tried to see if Trinny was noticing any of this, but she was taking Davie from Gertie’s grasp and cooing at him in perfect baby voice.

  No surprise when Jolene headed right to the bar.

  He snagged a beer for himself, then eyed up the room. Buck was with the women, hovering over his son in a protective manner that wasn’t a surprise to anyone. Jayce had found Libby and Junior. They’d stayed behind with the sweetbutts during the ceremony, and they were anxious to catch up with their Dad.

  Tiny and the Nomad Prez, Guido, were starting a game of pool. Guido’s crew always fit in here, so they made themselves at home catching up with Tims, Rusty, Red, the rest of the Markham chapter. And next to him Knuckles was talking to Jolene in a low, even tone.

  One sweetbutt was loading up a tray with JD shots, which was a good idea. Couple shots then everyone would be ready to eat. He accepted one, tossed it back and put the glass upside down on her tray before she could move on. Jolene grabbed one, then the sweetbutt moved on to Tank and Rose, who had wrapped themselves up in each other. Tank was holding his woman tight, hand on the back of her head. Her face was in the side of his neck, and Tank was talking to her.

  Fritter was aching for someone to hold onto.

  Tank took a shot of JD, and Rose waved the sweetbutt off with a gracious smile. Tank gave her another squeeze and Fritter was confusing himself with thoughts of cozy relationship shit when Jolene ... well, lost her fucking mind.

  “What the fuck is that?” Jolene was screeching, heading off to Rose and Tank. It was the first time anyone had heard her say a word all day, so the whole room fell quiet.

  Rose’s eyes got wide. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Why aren’t you having any Jack Daniels with us? My husband died, you bitch. Are you too good to remember him with us?”

  Rose’s eyes got wider, then a bit wet. Tank moved her behind his bulk, facing off with Jolene but speaking gently. “Jolene, you need to tone it down a little bit. I gotta lot of love for you and things are tough, but you take that tone again with my old lady I’m gonna have a problem with you.”

  “Knuckles won’t drink, and I know why. Gertie won’t either. But what’s Rose’s excuse?” Jolene snapped, as though she hadn’t even heard him.

  “Dad, why’s Aunt Jolene so mad?” Jayce Junior whispered it, but in that kid way that half the room likely heard. Jolene didn’t, thank fuck.

  “Back off, Jolene.” Tank’s tone was decidedly unhappy, and Fritter was setting his beer down but Knuckles got to Jolene first.

  “I think you need to lay down for a while, Jolene. The sun’s getting to you.” Knuckles took her arm and she wrenched away from him violently.

  “Fuck you, fuck everyone. Rose is an adult, old lady in this club. Let her explain why my husband dying isn’t a good enough reason to toast his memory like everyone else.”

  Tank’s face was like a thunder cloud, and Fritter wondered at Jolene’s medically-induce backbone keeping her upright and in Tank’s grill like this. Fritter took her other arm, but damn she was stubborn.

  “Tell me. Why the fuck isn’t she drinking?”

  Fritter desperately searched Tank and Rose’s faces, but there was no help there. He looked to Gertie, and Trinny was already heading their way. Gertie was holding Davie, wisely out of the way.

  “Jolene, you’re going to say something you regret,” Trinny whispered low, standing in front of her friend. “Let’s go to a room and talk, okay? If you need to sleep you can sleep after that.”

  “Don’t talk to me like you give a shit. You took off and left. Remember?”


  Trinny winced like she’d been hit. In a move so sudden it surprised him, and probably Knuckles, Jolene backed off and stalked back to the bar, grabbing the JD bottle. “Swear to Christ, Rose. You’re drinking to my old man if I have to hold you down and pour it down your goddamn throat.” She was walking back their way, her face ugly in its anger. “Unless you can tell me what’s more important.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  It was whispered, thick with emotion, but the room had grown so silent everyone heard. Fritter had been ready to grab the bottle from Jolene so he saw her stop like she’d been socked in the gut.

  “Is that good enough, Jolene? I’m pregnant. Now you know.”

  Stunned, Fritter turned to Tank. He still looked furious, but he was holding his wife to his chest again and she was crying.

  Fuck. What the fuck was happening here?

  “Congratulations.” It was spat out, and with that Mickey’s widow left the clubhouse, the light flooding through the door momentarily before closing. Knuckles went after her.

  “We just found out the day before Mickey,” Tank said, the room still quiet enough to hear him even though he sounded like he was fighting to keep calm. “We were waiting an appropriate amount of time before telling anyone. Seems wrong to celebrate when we just said goodbye to a brother.”

  Fritter held a hand out and Tank clasped it in his huge paw. “Congrats, man,” he said, still sounding stunned. “That’s great news.”

  Tank nodded, then released his hand and hugged Rose tighter.

  Rose was still crying. Fritter understood why she was so upset now. There had been a party and much revelry when they’d found out Buck and Gertie had a bun in the oven. Rose and Tank would have a wake to remember as the formal announcement of their child.

  Fritter patted Rose’s shoulder awkwardly then headed back for his beer. Jesus, what a mess.

  “Okay everyone,” Trinny called out, clapping her hands together. “We’ve had sad events but we also heard good news. Rose has arranged for an amazing-smelling meal, so let’s enjoy it before it goes cold.” Then she nodded at the sweetbutt still holding the tray of shots, who looked fucking terrified, and pointed to the room. The scarlet haired woman took the hint and continued her tour of the room.

  Jayce took his kids to get food, then Buck went to fill a plate for his woman. That was sweet. That intimacy, knowing what she’d want. And her trusting that he wouldn’t bring her a plate of salad to be a prick.

  Not that it would ever happen. Gertie was a curvy woman and Buck liked her like that just fine.

  Fritter’s stomach rumbled so he decided it was as good a time as any to stuff his face. Tiny fell into queue behind him.

  “Hope she’s okay,” Tiny mumbled, grabbing a plate from the stack.

  “Jolene?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’ll be all right. They gave her some fucked up shit to keep her calm, I think. When it wears off it seems like she’s extra angry.”

  “I’m glad Knuckles is looking out for her. That guy’s a fucking Woman Whisperer or some shit.”

  “What?”

  “You never noticed? Gertie, Jolene. He’s got some extra sensor, knows how to talk to women and not just to hit on them.”

  Fritter contemplated that, thinking Tiny might be right, as he spooned up mashed potatoes and roast beef on his plate. He grabbed a few scoops of the mixed vegetables, too.

  As he was turning away from the tables, cutlery in his free hand, he stopped in shock, seeing Sheriff Downey, still looking plenty fuckable, stepping into the room with some trepidation. Most heads turned to look at her, and she froze as though she expected to get jumped.

  Jayce approached her, Libby hanging off his leg. Again, showing the group she was welcome here. Even through people wouldn’t be speaking freely until she was gone.

  Trying not to stare at her—because damn that skirt looked fucking amazing—Fritter found an open spot on the sofa. Tiny sat next to him, and Buck and Gertie took up the sofa opposite. Buck took his son so Momma could eat.

  Places were occupied by diners. Some people set their plates on the pool tables and pulled up bar stools. Other just ate where they were standing. How Sharon came to be sitting next to him was a mystery.

  People were being careful around her, he could feel it. A few Nomads were openly staring at her, wondering what the fuck she was thinking. But Jayce had shown she was welcome so no one was going to get in her face about it.

  For his part, Fritter was dying to put his hand on her back. He was slouched back on the couch, plate over his chest so he could shovel it in without dropping all over. His mother would be cringing.

  Sharon was sitting on the front edge of the cushions, plate set on her knees. She barely had anything on it, but it looked like she’d grabbed food to be polite. The swell of her hip was so close to touching his leg. When he straightened up to grab his beer from the floor next to his feet, he made sure that contact was made. She didn’t stiffen, she just took a mouthful but he saw the small smile before she started chewing.

  “So, I didn’t know you had children,” Gertie was saying, eyes on the Sheriff as she worked on her dinner almost as fast as Fritter. He knew that new moms ate at high speed; they had to.

  Sharon nodded. “Yeah, with my ex-husband. He lives with his dad and stepmother in Bakersfield usually. They had a little emergency this summer so he’s living here.”

  Gertie nodded. “I hope everything’s okay ...?”

  Sharon was quick to nod. “He’ll be fine. He was in an accident and his wife is expecting to be busy helping him. So Brayden is here.”

  Fritter was finding this very interesting. They didn’t talk about nearly enough personal stuff.

  “You must have been quite young.” Then Gertie blanched. “I mean, you don’t look old enough to have a ... not that you’re old.”

  Buck laughed at that, and his old lady gave him a poisoned dagger glare. “I told you, I was a year ahead of her in school,” he said in his own defense.

  “I know,” Gertie returned. “You’re both so well preserved.”

  Sharon started coughing at that, and Fritter realized she was choking on laughter and food. Without a thought he offered her his bottle of beer. “Wash that down?”

  They all stared at him, but Tiny was outright laughing now. “Jesus, Fritter. We got lots of beer. The lady can have a bottle to herself.” He got to his feet, smiling down at Sharon. “Can I get you a beer, Sheriff?” Nothing about his tone inferred respect. He was hitting on her.

  Prick.

  “Sure, thank you,” Sharon answered, still smiling as she swallowed whatever had given her troubles.

  Fritter sat back with his beer but Gertie was staring at him, and her look was ... smart. He decided to ignore her, and that’s when she tucked back into her food.

  Tiny brought Sharon a beer, opening it in front of her. Likely to show off his arms. Then he handed it over and Fritter had to fight to ignore how Sharon smiled up at his brother.

  “Thank you, Tiny.”

  “Any time, Sheriff. You know you’re always welcome, you come here looking like that especially.”

  “Tiny!” Gertie scolded, but now Buck was laughing again.

  “Just because she ain’t in uniform doesn’t mean she won’t arrest you for the worst pick-up attempt in recent memory,” Buck muttered.

  “No one’s picking anyone up,” Tiny said, sinking into the sofa on Fritter’s other side. He was leaning forward on his knees, making it no secret he was eyeing her up.

  Fritter wanted to punch him in the face. His fist was actually itching from need.

  Sharon at least ignored him, or pretended to. She and Gertie chatted easily, or somewhat easily, about babies. That’s when Gertie filled Sharon in on how Rose was expecting, Sharon smiled broadly at that news, and Fritter was struck with the urge stand up and tell everyone this was his woman. She was slipping into their group as it was.

  He didn’t. Sharon would have been
mortified.

  As the women talked and food was consumed he restlessly tried to ignore her proximity, but it was impossible. When she stood to leave it put her ass in his line of view and he got hard, sucking back the last of his beer.

  “I should go. Check in on Brayden.”

  Gertie smiled up at her and took Davie from Buck so he could go eat. “It was nice of you to stop in.”

  “Yeah, thanks for coming by,” Buck said, taking her elbow and placing a platonic kiss on her cheek.

  “You want me to walk you to your car?” Tiny was offering, standing up as well.

  No fucking way. Fritter got to his feet. “I’ll show you out. Make sure this old fucker doesn’t try anything.”

  Tiny was chuckling again, but it was a triumph to notice Sharon didn’t look back at Tiny. Instead she smiled at Fritter and made for the door. His eyes were on her ass. He couldn’t help it.

  There was no one outside. The sun was dipping closer to the horizon, but it was nowhere near dark. They walked side-by-side to her little blue “pod car,” as he thought of it, not saying a word.

  “Thanks for walking me out, even if it was a bit of a risk,” she said, digging into the little leather purse at her hip. The strap cut across her torso and settled between her breasts, making the shirt even tighter.

  Fuck him if his cock didn’t get even harder. “It probably was, but with the way Tiny was eyeing you up I figured my gallant act might cover us.”

  She grinned. “What’s with that anyway? He’s been around forever. He knows me.”

  “He knows you but he’s never seen you in a fuck-me skirt and sex kitten heels.” Tiny’s words, but he realized they were absolutely accurate.

  She gasped, mouth open. “Fritter!”

  “What? You got mirrors in your house, how do you not know how good you look?”

  “I’m not ... I don’t ...”

  He had to grin. She wasn’t a girly girl, she didn’t dress to impress anyone. She put all this on and did her hair out of respect, wanting to look nice so she fit in.