Page 11 of Tracked By Sasquatch

CROON: Don’t fuck with her, brother. She deserves everything good this world has to offer after the hand she’s been dealt. If you hurt her my size won’t matter, I’ll end you.

SQUATCH: I expect nothing less. Don’t intend to hurt her.

As he stared at the words, he realized how true they were. If he was honest with himself, he’d wanted Devin for years, but he’d shut it down as soon as the prospect became a patched brother and earned his road name.

Without thought, he sent one last text.

SQUATCH: I intend to make her mine.

He hit send on the last before he realized he’d even typed it. He just wanted to date her, see where it led, but it was out there now. Floated to her brother already.

Fuck.

If things didn’t work out, those few words would destroy his friendship with his brother and cause a ripple effect throughout the club.

He typed out, I didn’t mean it that way, but he couldn’t send it. It would just make shit worse. Not to mention just then, his Aunt Phoebe’s voice wove through his brain.

“Rarely do people speak what they don’t mean, even if they don’t know it or don’t mean to say it. Sometimes, especially in the heat of the moment, our heart speaks without our permission. It’s important that you listen.”

So, with the three dots bouncing with Croon’s response, he erased his potential message and pocketed the phone. Anything he had to say would keep until tomorrow. Squatch’d done right by his club brother, telling him before he even put his lips on her. They’d settle it the old-fashioned way tomorrow. As long as Croon was satisfied, his prez would be too.

“March up to the bar, take Scott’s face in your big ol’ mitts and plant a wet one on him.”

Sasquatch was only half paying attention as his brain was on kissing Devin.

“What now?”

“Kiss Scott.”

“Sweetness, I can’t just walk up to people and kiss them. There’s a little thing called consent. Without that, it’s a crime.”

Devin turned in her chair, sweeping her gaze Scott’s way, who stood staring at them from behind the bar with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Scott,” she called in a sing-song voice.

“I consent,” he blurted with zero hesitation. He’d heard their whole exchange. For a moment he wondered if he’d also listened in while he’d poured his heart out. In that moment, it didn’t matter. What Devin wanted, she’d get.

If she thought he’d back down, she was sorely mistaken.

“Fine, but I get to claim one from you as soon as I return.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Oh, but I beg to differ. If I understand trailer park rules, then I can modify the game when offended. Well, I’m offended that you think I’d run screaming at the thought of kissing a man. Therefore, I demand the offense price of a kiss from you in lieu of a shot.”

She harrumphed as if put out, but there was no missing the spark that flared in her eyes. That was a good sign since he’d kinda sorta claimed her to her brother.

Oh, shit. Croon.

He’d probably be blowing up her phone and that was not how she needed to find out about their little text exchange.

“And no phones for the rest of the night. Trailer Park rules.”

“Mine’s been off since we left. I know Croon likes to track where I go, but you were tapping away earlier. Who were you chatting with.”

Her phone status was a relief.

“You’re deflecting. But.” He pulled his phone from his cut and silenced it. No way would he be out of communication if his club needed him. His eyes dropped to the text preview, but he forced himself not to read it. He stood. “Now… I’ve got a man to kiss.”