Page 22

Eighteen

I appreciate the effort you put into this clusterfuck.

— Searcy to Posy

SEARCY

I was a millionaire.

Holy hell.

How many times did I have to keep telling myself that before it seemed real?

The rumble of motorcycle pipes shook the shitty house around me, and I got up, nerves singing along my synapses, and checked out the window.

Sure enough, there he was, waiting for me at the curb.

Usually he came up to the front porch, but he was on the phone with someone, and hadn’t made it off his bike yet.

He had one hand on the bike, both legs on the ground, and his free hand in the air in front of him as he spoke to whomever it was on speaker phone.

I grabbed the helmet that he’d bought me to leave at my place, and the fanny pack that I used to carry my shit around when I was on the back of his bike, and headed out the door.

I didn’t bother to lock it.

Mom was home, as was Calliope.

I didn’t say bye to either one of them as I closed the door behind me.

The moment I appeared on the front porch, his gaze moved up to find mine.

His eyes traveled all the way down the length of my body, taking in the white ribbed tank top, the tight ass jeans—new jeans might I add—and my boots. Boots that he’d bought me last week when he’d also gotten me the helmet.

His lips turned up at the corner, and I knew that he was thinking the same thing that I was thinking.

He looked incredibly fuckable.

Jeans. Tee. Boots. Truth Tellers MC cut.

And that signature baseball hat, this one all black, turned around backward on his head, his black hair curling out around the sides. Hell, even the dog tags around his neck, nestled in between his pecs, was doing it for me.

I was addicted to him.

Ever since we’d had that one night together out in the middle of nowhere on the side of that road, I’d turned into a monster.

I wanted him, over and over, as many times as he would allow me to have him.

He watched me walk toward him, and his eyes landed on my chest.

I knew why, too.

My nipples were hard as hell, and seeing as I wasn’t wearing a bra, he could see every bump on my areola.

Luckily, the ribbed tank was thick, so despite the white color, you couldn’t see through it like you could’ve with all of my old tanks.

“I’m at my girl’s house,” he spoke into the phone. “We’ll maybe talk about this later.”

My girl’s house.

A ball of butterflies took root in my belly, and I had to resist the urge to blush as I kept walking toward him.

My girl.

Was that what I was to him?

“Ready?” he asked, reaching for my helmet and moving away from his bike.

I didn’t have a problem with putting my own helmet on, but for some reason, he did.

He always put it on for me, but only after he leaned into a deep kiss.

A deep kiss that he repeated today, pulling me deeply into his body as he leaned over and pressed his mouth to mine.

Tingles shot down my spine at his arousal pressing against me, and I shivered against him.

“Ready,” I whispered before once again returning to our kiss.

The kiss went on forever.

So long that the neighbor across the street yelled, “Get a room!”

I wish.

“Who was that on the phone?” I asked as he mounted the bike again.

“My mother,” he grumbled. “She wants me to go to a charity ball for the Y in town. She says that it’s for a fantastic cause, and that I’ll regret it if I don’t go.”

“It is for a fantastic cause,” I reported. “Every single penny that they make at that ball pays for all the under privileged kids, like my brothers and sisters and me, to go to a safe and productive camp every summer. I went there. It was the only reason I got to eat some summers.”

He was silent for a few seconds and then, “If you go, I’ll go.”

“Deal,” I said. “I have a lot of money to blow. It’s my turn.”

Instead of replying, he reached for me and pulled me closer, my thighs straddling his.

“Ready to ride, princess?” he asked.

Princess.

I still wasn’t sure how to feel about that nickname.

The first time he’d used it, it sounded condescending.

But the more he used it, especially in situations like these, the more I’d come to love those syllables coming out of his mouth.

“Ready.” I smiled, then bent my head down to kiss him.

Despite our helmets knocking together, the kiss was still sexy as hell and all-consuming.

By the time I pulled back, there was loud clapping from the same neighbor that was across the street.

If I wasn’t so desperately happy, I might flip the guy off.

“Anything new and exciting happen after I brought you home yesterday?” he asked as he pulled back to stare down into my face.

I gave him a rundown of the day after I’d left him, ending with what my next steps were.

“And I want to spend it, but I know that it’ll draw attention.” I sighed. “I am going to move out, though.”

“What about your siblings?” he asked as he helped me climb on behind him.

I sighed again. “They’ll be coming with me.”

“Your mom’s okay with that?” he asked.

“Not necessarily.” I shrugged as I threaded my arms around his solid torso. “I’m just going to have to do it slowly, so it looks like a normal next step. The lawyer wants us to try to make it stretch out into about a six-month period.”

I tried not to address Harrington as anything but my lawyer.

I noticed that it was a sore subject for Posy, and tried not to broach it if I didn’t have to.

It was the quickest way to kill the mood, and it sucked when Posy clammed up tight.

That was one thing that we didn’t talk about.

His family.

“Are you still okay with going to the clubhouse with me?” he asked. “We can grab something to eat before we go. Usually they have food, but we’re already a bit late. There’s no telling what’ll be left.”

I’d offered to go with him earlier, but he’d admitted that he really couldn’t until he got all the animals taken care of.

Truthfully, it worked out better for me because I had other things to be doing besides sitting at a party.

Like staring at my bank account balance, questioning whether I should pinch myself again or not.

Something that was still so overwhelming that it startled me each time I remembered it’d happened.

“I’m more than ready,” I said. “How do you feel about Taco Bell?”

He scrunched up his nose. “Usually, I’d say gross. But today it does sound pretty good. Plus it’s fast, and easy.”

“Where is this clubhouse that you’re taking me to?” I wondered.

“Forty-five minutes away or so,” he explained. “So that’s why I suggested eating in town first. I know it’s late.”

It was just past seven in the evening, and I’d been starving since I’d eaten breakfast—which arguably wasn’t very much.

Plus, I’d gone on a run today in the middle of the day and had yet to eat anything.

There was no food in the house, again.

Calliope and Kent ate like horses, and didn’t seem to understand that food didn’t just magically appear.

Though, Kent ate all the food because he knew that I’d gotten paid, and that we’d have enough food to go around now.

Calliope ate all the food because she didn’t fucking care.

That was another reason why I wanted to move out.

Eventually, Calliope would start catching on.

And then she’d start running her mouth.

The longer I could keep the asshole Taryn out of my business, the better.

Taco Bell was fantastic.

My belly was full of bean burrito as we finally pulled into the Truth Tellers clubhouse an hour later.

Posy pulled up to the front, then shut off the bike.

A chorus of ‘hey, Docs!’ came from all directions.

I smiled.

“Why do they call you Doc?” I asked.

I’d heard his club name, after all.

We’d run into quite a few Truth Tellers who stopped by randomly to visit with Doc, and they’d all referred to him by his club name.

However, I’d never gotten around to asking him why.

“Some will say it’s because of my paramedic background,” he said. “But it’s because I seem to ‘know everything.’”

I burst out laughing, tears filling my eyes at the hilarity.

“You do know everything,” I pointed out. “I asked you a few days ago how many acres you thought were on the moon, and you had an exact answer for me.”

He grinned.

“But this is the first time I’m hearing about you having a paramedic background,” I said. “Was that only in the military?”

He helped me off the bike, then took my helmet off before placing both his and mine on the seat of his bike before taking my hand and leading me through the maze of bikes to the front door.

“I actually do both,” he admitted. “Though, I only pick up a couple of night shifts a month to keep my license active at this point.”

“Wow,” I shook my head. “Where do you work?”

“Dallas Fire Department,” he answered. “You ready for this?”

I grinned. “Of course.”

Just sayin’, but I wasn’t ready.

I was nervous as hell.

But I put that brave face on anyway and walked into the clubhouse with him.

I was drunk.

I was really, really drunk.

But I was having a good time.

I didn’t think I’d ever smiled this much in my life, either.

“You’re joking!”

That was Keely, the sister of a member of the Truth Tellers MC.

Her brothers were Copper—known as Bird—Cutter, known as Coastguard, and Chevy, known as Chaos.

Then there was Webber, whose real name was Piers. He was the club president.

Jinx’s real name was Gunner.

Hush’s real name was Jasper. He was the scarred man that was there, but didn’t say anything, giving his nickname a more “true” feeling to it.

Cakes, otherwise known as Paden, was also someone that I knew, but hadn’t realized that I knew. He ran One Way, a veteran refuge that they’d just opened downtown. He also ran the halfway house, One Love, Dallas. A place that I’d volunteered at every couple of months when I had free time.

Hell, I’d even known the guy they called Preacher, whose real name was Hagrid. He’d fixed our air conditioner last year practically for free.

I also got to finally meet the famous ‘Apollo.’

Though, maybe it would be more infamous at this point.

Posy had spoken non-stop about Apollo, and I had a feeling that he was closer to him than he was anyone else in the club.

Though, that was saying something because he seemed like he was pretty close with them all.

He’d immediately taken me over to meet Apollo first thing upon entering the clubhouse a few hours ago.

“I’m really not,” I promised. “I swear to you, that’s what I read!”

“I watched a video yesterday that was talking about elephant seals, and that the stage in between baby and adulthood, the seals are called wieners.” Gunner looked at Posy.

“Actually, you’re saying wiener, like the hot dog.

” Doc leaned back in the chair, throwing his arm around me and pulling me close.

“But the correct term is ‘weaner.’ As in, they’re weaned.

Fun fact, some seals even reach ‘super weaner’ status because they’re so round when they’re weaned.

They do resemble overstuffed sausages, though, so the hot dog wiener thing could also be true. ”

“Damn, I thought for sure you wouldn’t know that one.” Gunner crossed his arms over his chest. “The video was hilarious, though. Talking about it being a weaner wonderland out there.”

I was grinning so hard that my face hurt.

Eyes gleaming, I said, “I have one for you.”

Doc ran the tip of his pointer finger along the length of my jaw and said, “Hit me.”

“Did you know that fake eyelashes were invented by a French prostitute?” I asked. “She called them Cumbrellas.”

There was a moment of silence and then Apollo, who hadn’t laughed once since his son had died according to Posy, burst out laughing. “You’re lying!”

“I’m really not,” I promised. “She invented them to keep the man’s jizz from getting into her eyes.”

That set the entire table off.

Even Audric, the quietest in the bunch, had a soft chuckle for me.

That’s how the night continued.

As a huge group, we sat around talking, challenging Posy with random facts to see if he knew them or not.

Though, by the time the night was winding down, I’d lost my drunk haze and was just pleasantly buzzed.

Posy had started giving me water about an hour and a half ago because he wanted me to be able to ride home on the back of his bike without falling off.

I didn’t blame him.

I didn’t want to fall off, either.

“Hey, your phone is ringing.”

I turned to see Keely pointing at my phone.

I frowned and leaned forward, my eyes widening when I saw DPD’s name flashing on my screen.

“Shit,” I said as I answered it. “Calliope?”