Page 48 of Diesel

“That one’s watching me.” Deadeye pointed at a particularly ugly specimen with a fishing pole. “Been staring since we got here.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“Gonna shoot the fucker,” Deadeye grumbled.

“Then his buddies will retaliate,” Preacher said. “Have a whole army outside your bedroom door.”

“Stop puttin’ that shit in my head.” Deadeye shuddered.

I chuckled, wondering where I could buy a few gnomes. Riot looked like he had the same thought, wearing that evil smirk.

My mate stayed close, handing me tools when I needed them, holding boards steady while I secured them. Every brush of his fingers against mine felt intentional.

“You’re good at this,” he said during a water break. We stood in the shade of an oak tree, both of us gulping down bottles that Edith had provided an endless supply of.

“Good at what?”

“Building things. Fixing things.” He gestured toward the porch, which was starting to look less like a death trap and more like an actual structure. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Learned from Preacher. He taught me everything about construction work.” The water was cold going down, washing away the sawdust coating my throat. “Bikes are my thing, but this helps sometimes. Using your hands to make something solid.”

“I get that.” Ollie’s gaze stayed on the porch, watching Mayhem and Riot lay down new boards. “There’s something satisfying about it. Seeing the progress.”

“Yeah.” But I was looking at him instead of the porch, taking in the way the dappled sunlight caught in his hair, turning it almost gold. “Real satisfying.”

His eyes cut to mine. “You’re not even looking at the porch.”

“Don’t need to. Already know it looks good.”

“Diesel—”

“Those two gonna stand around all day or actually work?” Riot’s voice cut through whatever Ollie had been about to say. “Because I’m not doing this by myself.”

“Coming.” But I took my time finishing the water, letting the moment linger a few seconds longer.

By three in the afternoon, the new boards were down. Pressure-treated lumber that would last another thirty years at least, all of it level and secure. The porch looked brand new, the wood sealed, smelling like fresh pine and possibility.

Preacher wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “The seal needs to cure for a day, then Edith can walk on it again.”

“Walk on it?” Edith clapped her hands together. “I’m going to dance on it! This is beautiful! You boys did beautiful work!”

Felt damn good to see Edith so happy.

Until a dozen Iron Vendetta members rode past, the rumbling engines of their motorcycles loud on the quiet street.

Preacher’s eyes narrowed as we watched them roll past.

“Wrap it up,” he said. “Everyone straight to the clubhouse.”

Chapter Ten

Ollie

I didn’t know what was going on, but from the swift way Diesel and his friends cleaned everything up, it couldn’t be good. As Diesel passed by me, I gripped his bicep to stop him.

“What’s wrong? Why’s everyone suddenly in a rush? Who were those guys?”

“Hop into my truck.” He eased my hand off his arm then went back to tossing work stuff into the bed.