Page 31

“No, just left early.” I tighten my hands on the steering wheel. “But I called her this morning.”

He nods slowly. “And?”

“And what?”

“You clean up the mess you made by sneaking out without a word?”

My silence is answer enough.

Rooster sighs and shakes his head. “Man, you’re lucky she puts up with your shit.”

“Don’t I know it,” I mutter, slowing as the path curves to the left before Wrath’s house. “You done lecturing me now?”

“Never.” He flashes a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

As I clear the turn, a sharp crack splits the air.

“The fuck?” I mutter.

Wrath’s shirtless body swinging an ax in the air comes into view and it all makes sense.

“Well, that’s not something I needed to see first thing in the morning,” Rooster says.

I slow the vehicle, stopping by the path leading up to the wide front steps of Wrath and Trinity’s log mansion.

Leaning forward so I can see him through the cab’s window, I shout, “Are we intruding on some Red Riding Hood/Lumberjack role-play thing you and Trin are doing?”

Rooster strokes his hand over his beard. “Nah, I think he’s getting ready for a photoshoot for another book cover. Something like, Taming the Viking Lumberjack, maybe ? ”

Wrath sinks the blade of the ax into a tree stump and stalks over to us, sweat gleaming on his chest.

“Did you oil yourself up to chop wood?” I ask with a straight face.

“You two are full of jokes this morning, huh?” He stops on Rooster’s side of the cab, slaps his hand on the roof, and leans in. “The fuck you doing up here riding around this early?”

Rooster jerks his thumb toward the back. “Brought some salt up for Z.”

Wrath eyes the bags loaded in the back. “Awww, isn’t that sweet of you.” He pushes away from the cab and hefts two of the bags into his arms. “Thanks, Culligan Man. We’re low too, so I’ll help myself to these as your toll for interrupting my morning workout.”

“Knock yourself out.” Rooster shrugs.

Wrath tosses the bags over his shoulder and heads into the house.

Laughing and shaking his head, Rooster waves his hand in front of him. “Go, before Murphy runs out of his house and jacks us for another two bags.”

I ease my foot onto the gas pedal and steer the UTV back onto the main path. “I mean, since we’re here and we still have more bags in the truck to unload, we might as well drop some off at everyone’s house.”

“What’re you, the water softener fairy now?” He laughs. “Should I get you a pair of wings?”

“Nah, I already sparkle enough.” I grin and toss my head from side to side.

He twists around, counting under his breath. “Fine. Stop at Murphy’s. I’ll toss two bags on their porch.”

We bump and bounce along in the UTV until Murphy’s big log cabin comes into view. I veer to the right, stopping at the low stone wall marking off their yard and shift into Park.

Rooster glances over. “You’re making me drop off the bags?”

“Yeah. I’m the driver.” I flip my hand in front of his face, shooing him out of the cab.

He groans but hauls his big ass out, grabs two bags and marches up the walkway to drop them at the foot of the front steps.

“I feel ridiculous,” he grumbles as he climbs back into the cab.

“We’re almost done.” We keep moving, passing the lot Dex chose for the house he’s building.

Finally, the cabin Z built tucked into a heavily wooded area of the property comes into view. From the outside, it seems modest, compared to the monstrosities Wrath and Murphy built, but everything inside is high-end.

We stop in front of the house and hop out. I grab two bags and head up the porch steps. The door swings open just as I drop them.

Z stands there in nothing but thin red gym shorts—slung low enough to see way more than I ever wanted.

I groan and slap a hand over my eyes. “Demons save me. No one needs to see that.”

“Speak for yourself, Jiggy!” Lilly shouts from somewhere inside.

I lower my arm a fraction, peeking over it to find Z with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at me. “I should make you run laps carrying those bags, just for being a disrespectful punk.”

I heft the bags again, shift them to one arm, and slap Z’s stomach as I pass him—immediately regretting it when my knuckles sting. The man’s built like a granite countertop.

“If anyone needs to run laps, it’s you,” I say. “Gettin’ a bit of a dad gut there, ol’ man.”

“The fuck I am,” he growls.

Grinning, I turn to face him. “Where do you want these?”

“You can leave them there.” He points to a closed door to my right. “I’ll bring them downstairs later.”

I set them down and Z’s dogs run over to me, rumps wagging so hard their feet skitter over the floor. Ziggy sniffs my pants and licks my hand while Zipper dances around my legs, whapping me with his tail. I crouch down and pet both big beasts and accept a few slobbering kisses on the cheek.

“Boys!” Lilly claps her hands. “Stop drooling on Jiggy. Come here.”

Ziggy immediately runs to her while Zipper butts his cold nose against my hand one more time, then trots away.

Rooster passes me, dropping his bags next to mine. A few seconds later, Z drops the last two bags in the same spot.

“Shit, Rooster, you didn’t need to bring this much,” Z protests. “That’s enough to last a few months.”

Rooster shrugs. “There’s more in the truck. Wrath helped himself to a few bags, and while we were at it, we dropped some off at Murphy’s place.”

“Such a good motherclucker.” Z taps his fist against Rooster’s shoulder. “Looking out for all your brothers.”

“We skipped Rock’s place, but I’ll get him with the second load.”

“Saint Rooster,” I sing. “How we love him.”

“Do you guys want breakfast? Coffee?” Lilly asks.

My stomach rumbles. I still haven’t eaten today. But it feels too much like intruding on Z’s family time to plop down at their dining room table and help myself to breakfast.

“Nah, we gotta unload the rest of those bags,” I say. “Thank you, though, Lilly.”

“I’ll help you,” Z offers.

“Where’s little man?” I ask Lilly.

She points toward Murphy’s house. “The kids had a sleepover with Auntie Heidi and Uncle Murphy.”

Z circles his arms around his wife’s waist and yanks her against him, kissing her cheek. “Yes, they did.”

There’s a baby-making joke waiting to be born but I don’t have it in me at the moment. I roll my eyes Rooster’s way. He shrugs and silently jerks his thumb toward the door.

We’re almost back to the UTV when Z catches up—still rocking the red shorts, but at least he’s added a half-zipped black hoodie and sneakers.

“Where you going? I said I’d help.”

“You looked busy, Prez,” I say, sliding behind the wheel again.

Rooster offers the passenger seat, but Z jumps into the bed of the UTV and slaps the side.

I follow the path leading back to the clubhouse. Ahead, an overgrown turn-off appears and Rooster points at it. “Can you go back this way?”

“There’s no clear trail.” I duck, trying to see past Rooster. “That leads out to the stone amphitheater, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Rooster says with exaggerated patience. “That’s why I want to go that way.”

“You thinking of having the wedding there?” Z asks.

“Maybe.” Rooster shrugs.

“It’s a good spot for it.” Z rattles off a list of things they did to set up Rock and Hope’s wedding out here and I tune most of it out.

While they’re talking tulle and tents or whatever, my gaze drifts to the spot in the woods where I finally chased Margot down and had my way with her.

Heat flares low in my gut. There’s suddenly a lot less room in my jeans. Getting hard in a UTV with my prez and best friend inches away seems like a bad idea.

I suck in a slow breath and count back from ten.

Doesn’t help.

“You all right, Jiggy?” Z slaps my shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah.” I nudge the UTV back onto the trail, and a few minutes later we roll out of the woods and into the parking lot.

We park behind Rooster’s truck and the three of us get to work reloading the UTV.

“Go ahead,” Z says when we’re finished, waving toward the clubhouse. “I got this.”

“Prez, I don’t mind,” Rooster protests.

“Nah, you already went above and beyond. Appreciate it.” He pulls Rooster in for a one-armed hug and slaps his back.

“You too.” Z pats my cheek, the same way he pats his dog’s hind end. “See you at church.”

He climbs in and takes off.

Once the UTV disappears into the woods, I turn and stare at Rooster. “When’d you turn into such a brownnoser?”

“What?”

“Prez, I don’t mind,” I mimic in a high-pitched voice.

“What?” He holds his hands out. “Z’s been really patient with me running back and forth to Tennessee all the time. Just trying to help him out.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly, feeling shitty that never occurred to me. “He’s been cool with me hanging out at Margot’s all the time too. Relieved me of my duties down at the laundromat.”

“True, but you’re also working with me on website maintenance, and helping out at Cedarwood’s. Even though that’s Upstate’s action, it’s still a club business.”

“Bro, we both know the only person I’m helping out there is myself .”

“That’s not true. Supposedly, the old man gave Rock an earful at the funeral about how much you help out around there. Seems like he appreciates it.”

“What? Margot’s dad talked to Rock? About me?” How’d I miss that?

‘Cause you were stalking Margot all day instead of paying attention to anything else.

“Apparently.”

“How do you know?”

“Z mentioned it last night. I guess Teller called him and gave him a report of what went on at the funeral.”

Not sure how I feel about being mentioned in Teller’s “report” of anything.

“And, we want to expand our presence in that area,” Rooster continues, “so having you out there helps in that department too.”

I did walk around downtown Johnsonville in my cut this morning.

“Funny you said that. I stopped at Strike Back today and watched the place for Sully so he could run home.” I pull the info I’d gotten about the laundromat out and hand it to Rooster.

“Found a potential investment. Something to give us a foothold out there. You think it’s worth bringing to the table? ”