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“Yeah,” he answers with obvious irritation in his tone. “Grinder and Rooster kept riding straight to their houses.” He glances at his phone. “I assume Rooster is ‘reuniting’ with Shelby by now.”
“We’re not sitting at the table?” I ask.
“No. I’m just here to drop off something. I have my own reuniting with my woman I want to do.”
Jamming my hands in my pockets, I stare down at my boots and laugh. “Gotcha, Prez.” I open the clubhouse door for him. “After you.”
“Gee, thanks.” Z pats my cheek, then stops and glances back at my bike. Fuck, all my gear from the trip is still strapped to it.
He shifts his gaze from the bike to me one more time, then steps inside the clubhouse.
Phew.
I lift my chin at Butcher and Grip. “How’d it go?”
“You missed a good time,” Grip says, slapping my shoulder. “Those southern muffler bunnies suck cock like it’s their mission in life, brother.”
I roll my eyes skyward. “Good to know. Thought it was a muffler bunny-free zone for the memorial?”
Grip shrugs. “Memorial was over.”
Butcher lifts his chin at the clubhouse. “Z’s been grumpy the whole way home.”
“Poor Lilly.” Grip lets out a dirty chuckle. “Z’s probably gonna fuck her through a wall when he gets his hands on her.”
“Z’s gonna put your face through a wall if he hears you talking about his ol’ lady like that,” I warn, although I’ve had my own impure thoughts about Lilly once or twice. I wouldn’t say them out loud, though.
I follow them inside. Eazy, Suds, and a few other brothers are at the bar, rehashing the trip. Lala’s got her friend Kristen behind the bar with her serving drinks.
The noise and chatter of the clubhouse grates on me after a while. I stay to bullshit with the guys a bit longer, then check the time. Rooster and Shelby should be taking a break from their “reuniting” by now.
As much as I enjoy the camaraderie with my brothers, my mind’s somewhere else. With a certain someone whose soft curves, blonde hair, and wicked sense of humor constantly hover in my mind.
After a quick nod to the guys, I slip out the front door and head home.
Rooster’s in the kitchen, shirtless and guzzling water from a gallon jug.
So many jokes come to mind. My eyes are about to pop out of my head with the effort of holding them in.
“I so badly want to make a joke about your ol’ lady draining you dry but I feel like it’s disrespectful to Shelby,” I finally blurt out.
Eh, I tried.
Rooster blows out a slow, irritated breath, sets the jug on the counter and turns around. “And yet, you said it anyway. Hello to you too, cock-knocker. Where’ve you been?”
“Clubhouse. Figured we were all meeting there, but everyone went home to fuck instead.”
He shakes his head, but the corners of his mouth twitch with amusement.
I glance at the hallway leading to the back staircase and up to their bedroom. “I assume Shelby will be unconscious for a few minutes. Can I talk to you for a sec?”
He stares at me, then must decide I’m not yanking his chain, and nods. “You want coffee? Shelby made a huge batch of kitchen sink cookies.” He nods to a long blue-and-pink tray loaded with cookies sitting in the middle of the table.
“What the fuck are kitchen sink cookies?” I ask, although I’m intrigued and already on my way to grab one.
“Uh, chocolate chunk, pecans, coconut.” He shrugs. “They’re good.”
I take a small bite of one. “Sweet Jesus, you should go away more often.”
