Page 28 of Defended by Bama (Royal Bastards MC: Mobile, Alabama #1)

Brooklyn

Sofie was thriving. She loved her new school and we’d been spending a lot of time at the clubhouse. She loved being the center of attention and not being reprimanded for being a child. She knew which rooms she could go in and which not to even look at.

Glenda and I opened up what used to be the restaurant, so she had somewhere to eat since everyone else ate in the main casino room. It was nice having an actual table to sit at instead of the bar. Plus, we didn’t intrude on any business.

I started to piece together that the club wasn’t staying afloat by the bar and tattoo parlor they owned. But the funny thing was, I’d never had more respect for any man than those at the clubhouse, and I’d never felt safer, even with Sofie.

My relationship with Bama was thriving, too.

He was gone a couple nights a week, but I was used to being alone most nights.

Plus, when he was home, I wanted to be with him.

I didn’t ask questions about what he was doing, and I didn’t really want to know.

He was a better man that Marshall could even pretend to be for thirty minutes in public with me.

Even all the other guys were better than him.

If they ever hurt anyone, they probably deserved it.

If it made me a bad person to think so, I didn’t care.

My mom and Marshall had gaslit me into thinking he was a good guy just because he was a cop.

What a joke that was. But none of that mattered anymore.

Brooklyn and Sadie didn’t exist, and the life they had was nothing but a memory.

My life was here with Bama and Sofie, amongst new friends, making new memories.

We were into October now, and Sofie was on her fall break.

Georgia had theirs in September, but I had thought it was early for a week off when school started in August. Here, it was still warm enough to keep the pool open but the evenings were more comfortable.

We planned to spend a lot of time at the clubhouse so she could soak up the last of the warmth.

Even though it wouldn’t get cold, it would eventually cool off and the days would shorten.

I was watching Sofie swim with a few of the ladies when Bama and a few of the guys came strolling out. It never ceased to amaze me how they all walked. “They literally always have swagger in their step, even if they don’t mean to. It’s different than the ego/asshole combo strut.”

Glenda didn’t move from her face-down position in the lounge chair but mumbled, “Ah yes. I’ve seen the ego/asshole strut. Great way to spot when to run.”

Pinkie swam to the side of the pool, her perfect breasts bouncing like buoys. “Just wait ‘til next week. There’s so much fucking testosterone you practically absorb it in your pores.”

“Next week?” I asked, confused.

Bama dragged a regular chair over. “Not sure we’re going.”

“Oh c’mon! She’ll love it!” Pinkie whined with a huge frown. She sure could bat them lashes.

“Love what?” I asked again, pushing myself up in the lounge chair. Bama’s eyes went the length of me and for a second, all I could think of was the heat of his gaze, but I snapped out of it. “What are they talking about?”

“Thunder Beach, baby!” Pinkie said with a squeal.

My brows pinched. “What’s that?”

“Just a biker rally,” Bama said.

Pinkie smacked her hands on top of the water, and Sofie squealed, “You splashed me!”

Pinkie turned and splashed water on her playfully, then turned around. “It’s awesome. Bikers from all over. Some in clubs, some weekend riders, sadly a few dipshits, too, but mostly they’re awesome. And I always see a bunch of old friends.”

Pinkie used to work as an exotic dancer who traveled around.

She had her own show. I didn’t completely understand how that worked but it sounded impressive.

And I didn’t know how or why she was here cooking for the guys.

Just like all other things around here, I didn’t press for info, and figured she’d tell me if she wanted to.

“Where is it?” I asked. I loved the beach.

“PCB!” Pinkie said. “Hammer was renting a couple of houses.”

“Back in my day we slept in fucking tents,” Butterbean said.

“You mean a couple years ago?” Froggy asked.

Butterbean rolled his eyes but leaned his elbows on his knees. “You think it gets rowdy here? Wait ‘til you see Thunder Beach, Linny.”

My eyes went wide, but Glenda reached over and tapped my arm. “Don’t listen to him. Sure, there’s little pockets of hardcore partying but there’s plenty of stuff that’s just fun. Of course there’s a wet t-shirt contest, but it’s not that bad.”

“Glenda won one time!” Pinkie shouted.

“Have you won?” I asked her. Surely she participated with that rack.

“I came runner-up once. Some bitch named Sugar from Georgia supposedly won, but I think she was giving out blowies for votes,” Pinkie said as she dipped her shoulders into the water.

“Like the suckers?” Sofie asked as she floated up and down with her swimmies.

I stifled a laugh, but Pinkie turned around. “Yeah, baby. The suckers.” She turned back with an apologetic grimace.

“Sounds…interesting,” I said. “How long is it?”

Rogers said, “Not quite a whole week, but we plan to go Thursday through Saturday. Maybe Sunday.”

“She has school.”

All the guys except for Bama burst out laughing. Froggy said, “Oh, it’s not really Sofie-friendly.”

Well, that answers why Bama said we probably wouldn’t go. “Oh well. Get me a souvenir.”

Pinkie huffed. “She’d be fine at the house. You guys don’t need to be bringing a bunch of skanks over, anyway.”

“Is there a pool?” Sofie asked as she doggie-paddled to the side of the pool, right next to Pinkie.

“There is,” she told her.

I held my hands up. “There’s a pool here too, and you have school. Plus, there’s no point in me going just to sit with you at the pool.”

“Well, we’ve been loads of times. Me and Glenda can take turns with Sofie so you can go see all the vendors and stuff with Bama.”

Glenda grabbed her beer and said, “I’m not going.”

Pinkie was in full tantrum. “What the fuck do you mean? Of course you’re going.”

“Drop it,” Leigh said from behind me. I hadn’t realized he was even there.

“I don’t need you to speak for me, Leigh,” Glenda snapped.

Pinkie sank into the pool, grabbing Sofie’s hands and pulling her into the middle.

“If you want to go, it’s fine. Sofie and I will be okay for a few days,” I told Bama. Although I was curious. And talking about all the skanks had me a little on edge but I didn’t think Bama would be interested. I still didn’t want a bunch of women falling all over him.

“I won’t go without you,” Bama said. “They’ll be fine.”

Rogers said, “Hammer wants you there.”

Another moment of silence had tension building at the pool. I grabbed Bama’s hand. “Hey, club business, right? I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Hey, why don’t you get dressed?”

“Now? Sofie’s still swimming off her energy.”

Bama stood up. “I wanna take you for a ride.”

“A ride?”

“On my Harley. C’mon. They can watch Sofie for a bit.”

I fought a huge, cheesy smile. “You want to take me on the bike?” I’d not ridden with him on his bike yet. Sofie was with us a lot, and even when we dropped her at school, we took his truck then he drove me to the clubhouse, so we just hadn’t really had any time.

He held his hand out. “Yeah, so get dressed.”

I looked over and Glenda gave me a thumbs up. “I got her. I’m not going anywhere. Go get some wind therapy.”

Climbing from my lounge chair, I leaned down and gave her a squeeze. “Thank you.” Turning to go to the pool, I crouched down and called Sofie over. “Hey sweet girl, Mommy’s going for a ride. You listen to Miss Glenda and Miss Pinkie. If they say get out of the pool, you get out, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy,” she said, wiping water from her eyes. “I love you and I’ll be great!”

I blew a kiss at her. “Love you, sweet girl. We’ll be back in a bit.”

After slipping on my flip flops, I hightailed it inside so I could go up and change. A mix of nerves and butterflies flitted in my belly. I’d not been on a motorcycle. It was a little scary, but also exciting. Especially to be riding with Bama.

I rushed to change and did my best to clean up my face and brush my hair. We’d been at the pool for a couple of hours but I didn’t want to waste time showering. I was ready to ride.

Following Bama outside, he led me to his Harley.

“Was this always on here?” I asked, pointing to a seatback on the bike.

His Harley seemed so big standing next to it, and I didn’t know many types but it wasn’t a crotchrocket.

But I still bet it could go fast. It was big, and broad, with lots of shiny red, black, and silver, handlebars straight off to the side, but not too low, and a short wind screen.

“Nope. Got that for you so you can be comfortable. Here,” he said as he pulled a helmet from the saddlebag. “Glenda said this should fit you.”

The perma-grin I had was starting to hurt my face as he adjusted the strap on the helmet for me. “Wait, how’d you get the bike here? How are we getting home?”

“Butterbean drove me over to grab it.” He held up what looked sort of like a mix of goggles and sunglasses and slid them on my face. “Truck’s right over there,” he said as he pulled his own helmet out and put it on. He climbed on then stuck his hand out. “Hop on.”

My stomach did somersaults as I straddled the black seat. Once I was on, he reached back, gripped under my knees, and pulled me to him. A single yelp escaped me, but I tucked myself against him and wrapped my arms around the soft leather he wore.

“I’ll go easy, but hold on tight.”

“I’m so nervous,” I said right before he started the engine, drowning out what I said.

Apparently, he heard me though, because he squeezed my thigh and said, “I got you.”

As we pulled from the parking lot, my nerves settled down.

Instead, I was in awe. The feeling of riding down the road with the warm air blasting over my arms, the smell of the asphalt, fresh cut grass tickling my nose, and being flush against Bama was indescribable.

Even riding with the windows down in the truck was nothing compared to it.

“It feels like I’m flying,” I shouted as we stopped at a red light.

He put his huge hand over my connected ones. The ride was amazing, and I wasn’t scared of falling. I could let go of him or even loosen my grip. But for now, I was going to use this excuse to hold onto him for dear life. I never wanted to let that feeling go. Or him.