Redemption Weather Page 11

  “What the fuck straw does he have to grasp for? The bastard cheated and the whole fuckin’ town knows it.”

  I shrugged. “He’s saying I inherited the house while we were married so a portion of the sale will belong to him if we divorce.”

  “You have got to be shitting me!” The gruff rumble to my brother’s voice spoke of the violence he wanted to commit against my ex. “Seems like maybe I need to take another trip down to Georgia to straighten some shit out. Does he even realize I’m half owner of that house?”

  “He knows, Keith. He’s just doing this to stall the proceedings. According to Snake, he’s supposedly coming up with a plan to come get me back.”

  “You still talk to Snake?” My brother asked cautiously.

  “He checks in every couple days. Snake felt bad for what went down before. He thought my leaving was because he didn’t tell me what Walker had planned. I’ve told him that it still would have happened because I can’t stand by a man who won’t stand by me.”

  “You tell Snake you’re seeing someone else?”

  “Nope,” I answered with a slight pop to the p. “Not his business or anyone else’s that he might pass that information along to.”

  My brother grinned then. “Probably for the best. You let me know if this continues to be a problem with the house and the divorce. You know I already told you I kept my half of the stake in that house to protect you from this shit, so even if by some demonic miracle he gets half of your half, you’ll still get my portion too.” He glanced at me then grumbled under his breath, “I’ll take care of shit before it comes to that though.”

  I knew that. When my brother and I had split my family’s estate after their death he took a lump sum from the insurance money, and left me with enough to cover the taxes and whatnot for a couple years. I got the house and land. They equaled about the same amount, but Keith had kept his name on the house and land in case Walker ever tried to screw me over. I had told him that it wouldn’t be a problem at the time, but I’m glad that my brother refused to listen to me. Apparently, he’d seen the writing on the wall long before I clued in to it.

  As we stood there, each lost in our own thoughts about the situation, my cell started ringing. I glanced down and smiled when I saw Smoke’s name there. “Hello?”

  “Hey honey, just calling because I forgot about the barbecue at the club this weekend. You think you can be ready to hit that up with me tomorrow?”

  “I’m sure I can. Do you need me to bring anything?” I asked as I glanced up at my brother’s grinning face.

  “You know the drill. If you want to bring a dish, you can, but make sure it can travel with the bike.” I laughed. Of course he’d be picking me up on the bike. “It’s a family thing, so you’ll get to meet my sister while we’re there. She’s the reason I remembered about the damn thing to begin with.”

  “Oh, okay.” I didn’t know how I felt about meeting Smoke’s sister. His brother, I’d been excited to meet because being one of my favorite hockey players took my mind off of the fact that I was meeting someone who was Smoke’s family. Odd as that sounds, it’s true. His sister was an entirely different scenario. I worried she would hate me and tell him then that would be the end of whatever we were starting, and I really liked what we were starting.

  “Honey?” He asked, sounding hesitant.

  “Sorry, lost in thought. Sounds good. I’ll make some cookies up to take with so that they travel easily. I’m assuming by family barbecue that means kids will be there too?”

  “Yeah, honey. My nephew will be there too.”

  “Okay, cool,” I exclaimed before glancing nervously up at my brother who looked ready to laugh at me. “I better get to the store for cookie stuff then.”

  “Okay,” he hesitated a moment. “Poppy, no need to be nervous. Soph will love you, and I’m sure that Brantley will too.”

  “Brantley?” I questioned.

  “My nephew,” he explained.

  “Oh okay. How old is he?”

  “Three.”

  “Awesome, I will make a special cookie just for him,” I announced, because I knew exactly what I was going to do. I had seen these cool cartoon and animal shaped cookies on Pintrest and I’d been dying to try them out on someone. I also had a motorcycle cookie cutter that would probably make a fitting cookie for a biker kid.

  Smoke laughed. “Well shit, he’ll definitely love you if you’re bringing him his own special cookies.” I heard an alarm sounding in the background. “Gotta go, honey.” The phone disconnected before I could tell him to be safe. Damn, it sucked knowing he was possibly rushing into a dangerous situation while I was rushing to the store for baking supplies.

  “His sister is going to be there,” I informed my brother as I pocketed my cell.

  “I figured. Her old man is Bender,” my brother informed me.

  “Bender?” I asked. “Wasn’t he here helping move my stuff in?”

  “That would be him.”

  “Oh, okay. I liked him.”

  Chief grinned at me then. “He liked you too, so you shouldn’t really have a whole hell of a lot to worry about. I’m sure he already told Soph about you.”

  I couldn’t help ringing my hands in worry anyway. “I never had to worry about meeting the family with Walk,” I admitted. I’d already known his mom and dad. Walker didn’t have any siblings so that wasn’t an issue, and I’d already known the guys from the club thanks to my brother being a patched member.

  “You’ll be fine, Lil’ Sis. Everyone loves you when they meet you.”

  “Not enough, apparently,” I mumbled thinking about all the people who had turned their backs on me in favor of my philandering husband.

  “No accounting for stupid,” my brother informed me before we both got ready to head out for wherever our days were going to take us. For me, it was the grocery store. For my brother, I assumed the day would take him back to the clubhouse. For Bubba, he’d be waiting for me to get home and show him how much fun baking cookies could be, because I was going to make some special peanut butter biscuits just for him too. Not that he really knew that was going to happen, but the dog was so good at anticipating my next move, I couldn’t help but believe he did really know.

  ~*~

  I grabbed the small, beat up leather backpack I’d had for years and tossed it over my shoulders. It had the special cookie packed gingerly inside so as not to mess it up before the little boy it belonged to could tear into it. All the rest of the cookies had been packed neatly into Tupperware containers that now resided in Smoke’s saddlebags. It had been a couple years since I was last at a function in Cedar Falls, and even then it was a multi-chapter function so I had never been too certain just how many members they had. Chief never really talked about it aside from little stories of specific events and people before. I knew a good eight or so guys he always talked about, but I was sure there were more. The problem was, I didn’t know how many had old ladies, girlfriends, or how many kids there would be. I’d made enough cookies to feed an army, so I hoped they were plentiful. If not, I was positive big, bad, burly bikers enjoyed cookies just as much as the next person. It just so happened that they washed them down with beer or whiskey instead of milk like everyone else.

  I laughed at my own thought as I threw a leg over Smoke’s bike to straddle up close behind him. He felt warm and solid there in front of me as I wrapped my arms around his middle and held on. I had always hated wearing my helmet since it made me feel like a bobble head figure, but now I had a new reason for hating it, because I wanted more than anything to rest my head on Smoke’s shoulder and cozy into him even more. The intermingling scents of mint, leather, and masculine perfection were lulling me into a space where I’d rather say forget taking the cookies to a barbecue, and let’s stay home cuddled up in bed.

  Thanks to his schedule at the fire station, Smoke and I hadn’t been able to spend another night together yet since the hotel in Pittsburg. His hand came down and squeezed my thigh b
efore he took off out of my driveway and brought me back to into the moment. It was almost a surreal moment, because the last bike I’d been on the back of had been Walker’s, and now that I’d thought of that it had been almost four months. I hadn’t even been on the back of my old man’s bike for two months prior to our end. That was unheard of. The more little thoughts like that crept into my mind, the more I wondered what kind of rock I’d been living under during the time I’d spent with Walk. We were no longer the couple we’d once been. Instead, we had grown to be more like roommates who didn’t exactly enjoy being around one another. I wished I had woken up to that fact sooner. I didn’t want to be thankful for the storm. I didn’t want to be thankful for the day I dreaded every year, but if it weren’t for those circumstances I wonder how long I would have continued living in the shadows, unseeing?

  I shook off that depressing thought and focused on the wind blowing the tendrils of my hair that managed to slip free of the quick bun I’d wrapped it into at the base of my neck in order to keep the wind from wreaking havoc on my long locks. I’d worn my comfortable, skinny jeans, noting that there was a chill in the air already, despite it only being early October. I had definitely moved to a slightly different climate than what I was used to in northern Georgia. I was also wearing a simple dove gray t-shirt with a navy blue Harley logo on it along side the words “live free”. Over that t-shirt I wore my black leather riding jacket that Chief had purchased for me years ago when he found out I’d taken a trip to Cedar Falls with Walk while wearing no riding leathers. Chief had been pissed that Walk hadn’t been taking care of me. Walk had been pissed that Chief made him look like an ass in front of their club brothers for not taking care of his woman properly. Even though it didn’t take Chief pointing it out to the other men, hearing someone say it out loud clued Walker in that he looked like a jackass, whether he realized it on his own or not. It was the last time we had gone to Cedar Falls.

  There was yet another memory of something I hadn’t wanted to see or admit to while I’d been with Walk. My brother had been right. Walker hadn’t been taking care of me like some of the other brothers did with their old ladies. Steel, Quickshot, and Sweet would never allow their women on the backs of their bikes without their leathers. Not that they had to worry about it since all of their women rode their own bikes too and equipped themselves, but even Stone had equipped his woman, Mercy, with leathers that were patched to claim her as his old lady. Walk had never done that for me and we’d been together for ten years. The closest he had come to that had been to demand that I get a property patch tattoo with his name on it. I never did. My skin was as yet unmarred by ink, and not because I was against inking my skin, I just wasn’t going to make a property patch the first thing I put there, especially since Walk was dead set against getting me inked into his own skin.

  When we’d discussed it – read had a heated battle over it – he had told me ‘my dad told me you never put a bitches name permanent on your body, not about to start now’. Needless to say, I used his own words against him in my refusal and neither of us ever wore each others’ names. Looking back, that should have been a huge red flag for me. That was only six months after we married, and only after a man visiting from the Charleston Chapter tried to pick me up at an event.

  We slowed as we turned into the Cedar Falls Complex, and once again I was pulled from the morbid thoughts of all the things that should have been warnings of what was to come when I was with Walker. I squeezed Smoke extra tight before releasing him and dismounting the bike. There were only a couple of guys hanging around outside in the lot, and they all glanced over curiously as we started pulling tubs of cookies from the saddlebags on Smoke’s bike.

  “Thought you didn’t let bitches ride on your bike, man?” One of them called. I glanced up to see he had reddish hair, and appeared to be in his 30s with a well-trimmed beard that was just a couple shades darker than the long locks flowing down his muscular form. He was grinning at Smoke, but that grin slipped at whatever he was seeing from Smoke’s expression. I didn’t bother to turn and look. Instead, I stood there studying the man as his features shifted from grinning idiot to questioning and thoughtful.

  “Call her a bitch again and we’ll be talkin’ out back in the shed,” Smoke called out. The red-haired man took a harder look at me then before moving his attention back to Smoke, and nodding to the man while awaiting an explanation.

  Smoke didn’t give one until we had everything unpacked, and then he walked us over to the three men, of which Red had been one, and started introductions. “This is Poppy,” he started when he was cut off by another man whose kutte told me was called Crutch.

  “Poppy?” He questioned then smiled. “You’re Chief’s sister, right?”

  “That I am,” I offered on a smile.

  “Oh, Chief asked you to bring her by?” Red asked, and then added, “I’m assuming that means he’s bringing one of his bitches then?” This made me cringe, because I knew my brother played the field since the woman he followed to Cedar Falls all those years ago broke his heart, but the way this man, Red – who was apparently known as Heavy – had spoken my brother had several ‘bitches’ that could have been in contention for a place on the back of his bike.

  Smoke growled at the man, tossed an arm around my shoulder, and shook his head. “Poppy’s with me, because she’s mine,” he informed them. “Don’t know what Chief’s up to or if he’s bringing anyone.” As he spoke I noticed the third man, finally, who was grinning at me.

  “Oh, hey!” I exclaimed.

  “Hey, Poppy,” he called. “How’s that monster of yours?”

  I laughed. “He’s good, although he didn’t seem too happy to be left behind today,” I informed him. The him being the man my brother had brought by to introduce me to the other day, Hold ‘Em.

  Smoke’s arm tightened on me. “You know Hold ‘Em?” He asked quietly.

  “Yeah, Chief brought him by when he got back from the run the other day and realized he’d left me without a way to communicate with anyone.” Smoke studied the man who was still a prospect for the club, but from what Chief had told me was soon to be a fully patched brother.

  “Take it you met Bubba?” He asked the man.

  “Damn near pissed my pants meeting Bubba, thought he was gonna fuckin’ tear my leg off,” Hold ‘Em admitted. Smoke cocked a brow up.

  “There was a strange man standing on my porch, and it made me nervous. I’m sure Bubba felt that, and was feeding off my energy.”

  “Like that Bubba was doing his job, honey,” Smoke told me, ignoring the confused glances the other men were throwing his way.

  “You two know each other before Poppy moved here?” Heavy asked.

  “Nope,” Smoke answered and turned me with his body so that we could move to go inside. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. We need to go deliver these cookies Poppy made.” He motioned down to the containers of cookies he and I were both holding on to as we went.

  “I’ll grab the door for you,” Crutch called out as he moved to lead the way.

  “Thanks, man,” Smoke told him and Crutch just nodded, smiled at me, and then opened the door to the clubhouse. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the interior as opposed to the bright fall sunlight we’d stepped in from.

  Just about the time my eyes adjusted and I was able to take in the once shadowy figures on my periphery a tiny little body slammed itself into Smoke. “Unc Moke,” he yelled. I grinned down at the cuteness that was the toddler boy hanging on to Smoke’s leg as he took his arm from around my shoulder and patted the boy’s head. The boy latched on to Smoke’s leg, wrapping arms and legs tightly around them in what was apparently a familiar game for them to play, because Smoke pretended it wasn’t happening as he moved forward through the room until we got to the bar, where he placed the two bins of cookies he was carrying down on the counter as I followed suit. Once my hands were free I reached up to the straps on my shoulders and moved to pull
the bag off, but Smoke beat me to it. He helped me off with my bag and placed it gently in front of me on the bar.

  I offered up a beaming smile to him as he reached down to snatch his nephew off his legs and tossed him into the air. “No free rides,” Smoke called out to the giggling boy. As he landed firmly in Smoke’s arms again he turned the boy so he was looking at me and then he whispered something in the boy’s ear. “Can you say hi to my girl?”

  The little boy shook his head, no as he blushed.

  “Why not?” Smoke asked.

  “She pwetty,” he answered as he ducked his chubby little face into his uncle’s neck making me smile even bigger at the little guy.

  “I’m just Poppy,” I told the boy. “Can you say that?”

  “Popwee,” he told me while shaking his head in the affirmative. I held my hand out for him to shake, and as he did I asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Bwantwee,” he informed me. I glanced up at Smoke for a translation. I was pretty sure he meant Brantley, but with little kids you never knew.

  “Brantley,” Smoke confirmed. “Where’s your mom?” The boy pointed across the room to a couple that was standing watching our interaction with heightened interest.

  “Why don’t you go ask your mom if you can have a cookie. I think Poppy made a special one just for you, bud.”

  “You did?” The angelic little face gazed up at me in wonder.

  “I did, but you can only have it once your mommy says its okay.”

  “Momma!” He screamed across the room while struggling for Smoke to put him down. Smoke did and his little legs took off full steam ahead towards his parents. “Popwee made me spetial cookies!” He exclaimed. “Can I eats them?”

  I took the special cookies from my pack and started heading in their direction with Smoke hot on my heels. When we got closer it became very noticeable that Smoke’s sister was a beautiful, feminine version of himself. The woman was tall with legs most other ladies would kill to have, long and slender, yet well toned. She was wearing shorts and a tank top, something I thought was not quite up to par with the weather we were currently having. Her tank was a black support tank for the club, and she also had a female version of the kutte the men wore. No doubt, hers held a property patch on the back. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled into a fancy fishtail braid that wound down the right side of her neck and hung loosely over her shoulder. Her eyes were a hazel mix of greens and golds that were stunning in their own right, although not as in your face amazing as her brother’s multi-hued eyes.