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“Fuck yeah!” Grinder leans in as his lips spread into a huge smile. “Favorite holiday ever. Well, second to Halloween, of course.”
Crow ignores him and continues talking. “Vanessa and the ladies want to organize a Christmas run for the kids of Rockford Beach. With everything that happened in recent months, she feels we need to give back to the community. Make them feel safe.”
Yeah, she’s right. We need some good PR for damn sure.
“So,” Crow continues after a dramatic pause. “We’ve all been volunteered to distribute presents to kids whose parents can’t afford to put much under the tree…” Opening his notebook back up, he flips through the pages and mumbles, “Got it. December twenty-second, four to six. We’re closing off two blocks on either side of the pier so only pedestrians have access for those two hours. They’re setting up activities, stands, face painting and I don’t fucking know what else…”
“Hell yeah! I’ve got dibs on the slutty nurse!” Grinder’s serious, which begs the question…
“What slutty nurse?” Psycho and I both ask at the same time.
“Uh, me. Duh.” I think he’s confused.
“You putting on a blonde wig, too?” Boner’s looking him up and down, nodding as if he’s liking the idea more and more.
“That’s sexist. I meant amalenurse. And by the way, we shouldn’t have to differentiate. A nurse is a nurse is a nurse. But the slutty part is important, I want to show off my new jail buffness.” Doing his best impression of Popeye, Grinder kisses his biceps as he flexes.
Someone needs to tell him he missed Halloween and his only option is to dress up as slutty Santa.
“Aaand… Church is over.” Hoops bangs the gavel and shakes his head at our antics. “Prez was a saint with y’all.”
“That he was, brother. That he fucking was.” And I mean it. He is missed every fucking day, but Hoops is filling his shoes nicely. He just needs a little more experience and a whole lot of patience.
I fucking love riding. The freedom, the wind, the way my mind is focused on one thing only. It’s a great way to wind down and let go of our demons.
Psycho whizzes by on his back wheel, giving me the middle finger as I laugh inside my helmet. That fucker has fifty lives and takes them all for granted. I’m less about the stunts and more about the speed. With a body the size of mine, you can’t go around testing the limits of man-made machines and not expect to get hurt.
Speed though? That’s all right. It’s cathartic, even.
Before I throw open the throttle, Mac rides up beside me on her new-ish bike, Scarlett. The red is fucking visible all way to Georgia but apparently nobody cares about that. Least of all, her.
“One on one?” I taunt her, nodding at the straight line ahead.
“Fuck yeah!” Mac is like a sister to me, especially since Psycho is the closest thing I have to a real brother.
Knowing she’s got the advantage of being a top-notch racer, I don’t count down, I just fly before she’s ready. Gotta get my advantages where I can, right?
I’m about to get passed by Mac when something catches my eye up ahead on the side of the road.
My gut tells me to slow down. To stop. To park my bike and to make sure everything is all right. It’s how my mama raised me. When you see someone in need, you give what you can, even if it’s only advice.
“Hey, you doin’ okay? Need some help?” I make my presence known way before I get to the hood of the car that’s parked on the side of the road. White smoke billows from beneath the metal and I can’t actually see the person yet.
“I’m fine.” Oh, fuck.
I have a thing about voices. The breathy, deep sound of a woman who thanks you for an orgasm comes to mind immediately, and when I get to the front of the hood, my entire body freezes up.
Holy fuck. Legs for days and an ass made for biting is all I see until she places both of her hands on the hood and looks up, up, up at me.
My first concern is her messy bun about to fall apart and into the fan or the belt or any number of places that could be problematic.
My second thought is…
How do I make her mine?
Chapter Four
Athena