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“The only one,” Grant said. “Grant Reynolds.” He held out his hand and Michael took it. He was impressed that Michael had a firm handshake.
Next he shook hands with Aria’s father. When it came to the mother, he took her hand and even as he hated it, he kissed her knuckles. “Charmed,” he said.
“Would it be possible to have a chair brought and another placement at the table?” Aria asked.
“Certainly,” the maître d’ said, offering her a smile.
Grant clocked the bastard eyeing up her ass. He also noticed a couple of other men checking out his woman. Grant stepped behind her. He was the only one who would be checking out his woman’s ass. Pulling out the chair, he helped her sit and then thanked the maître d’.
A couple of waitresses had stopped by the table to bring the necessary cutlery.
Well, this wasn’t a great first impression from her family.
“I’m so sorry,” Michael said. “Joan said that Aria’s plus one wouldn’t be coming.”
Grant could only assume Joan was the fucking mother.
“No problem at all,” Aria said. “Easily fixed.”
“Reynolds, why do I know that name?” her father asked.
“He owns the mechanic shop in town, honey,” Joan said.
“Oh. Oh.”
Grant smiled. “Actually, I don’t own. My brother does.”
Aria was not wrong about her parents. They couldn’t stand him just on his name alone. This was going to be fun.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Michael asked, rubbing at Isabella’s back.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sticking to that diet like I told you?” Joan asked Isabella.
“Mom, I’m pregnant. Sickness comes and goes.”
“As do her cravings,” Michael said. “I don’t have a problem going out late at night for potato chips and ice cream.”
Grant chuckled.
Joan gasped. “Honey, you do not want to give in to those … cravings. Trust me. Fight them. Follow my plan and you’ll rid yourself of your baby weight.”
“It’s fine, Mom.”
“So, Grant, what do you do?” Michael asked.
“He’s part of the Chaos and Carnage MC,” Joan said. “That’s what he does.”
“Mom,” Aria said.
“Actually, I’ve currently been suspended from the club. At this point, I’m neither in nor out of the club. Let’s see, what do I do? Depending on the day, I’m a mechanic, personal trainer, waiter, or currently working at an animal shelter.”
“Multiple jobs?”
“It pays the bills,” Grant said.
He used to do the necessary work for the club as well. Whatever recon his brother needed, Grant was more than happy to do. In fact, there wasn’t a job he’d not been great at. Even during his prospect years, he’d done every single little dirty job Bull could think of. Cleaning shit out of toilets, babysitting brats, standing for long hours holding beers for the guys, being a personal errand boy for the members.
