Bayou cursed under his breath. “Fuck.”
“I can make more,” Conleigh pointed out. “It literally takes like five minutes in the microwave if you have all the stuff.”
“What ingredients?” Bayou turned, his eyes on Conleigh.
“That Fritos bean dip in the small can, a package of sour cream, cream cheese, and some taco seasoning,” she explained.
“I have everything but the beans,” he said, sounding forlorn.
“I have some bean dip at home,” Pru offered softly. “I can go get them.”
Bayou’s eyes went to her and narrowed.
For a few short seconds, I thought he would actually say something about not liking her, but like the man I knew that he was, he decided to hold his tongue.
Bayou was a good man—mostly.
He was brash, dreadfully honest, intimidating, and rude—and those were just on his best days.
He wasn’t fond of newcomers, and we’d been blowing his comfort levels out of the water lately with adding all these new people to the mix in the form of girlfriends and wives.
Bayou was not a man that did well with change without being prepared for it.
And God forbid you hurt someone he considered his.
Which was likely what happened with his sister.
His sister, Brielle, might very well have been in the wrong if Pru was yelling at her. But Bayou wouldn’t care. He protected those who he thought of as his. No matter if they were wrong or not.
“Get it,” Bayou ordered.
Pru went to step away from me, but I patted her hand. “I’ll go get it. You hang out here with Conleigh. Where is it?”
Pru licked her lips and finally tore her stare away from Bayou, who still hadn’t looked away from her.
“Uhh, top shelf in my pantry. It was the door right off the kitchen,” she explained.
After extricating my arm from her grip, I left her in Conleigh’s capable hands and fast-walked across the street to her place.
Her dog was still laying on the doormat as I made my way up the front path, and when I pushed inside, the pig had moved, but only as far as to roll over in the opposite direction of the door—deeper into the shadows.
The birds were the first things I’d heard when I got over there, causing me to grin.
“You can’t handle the truth!” Bluebird exclaimed.
“So I can kiss you anytime I want!” Redbird said sweetly.
Lips twitching, I made my way to her pantry, easily found the beans, and started back out of the kitchen.
I’d gotten parallel with the table when something black caught my eye.
Pru’s phone.
It was lit up, and on the phone there was a text from a ‘Terrel Horandy.’
Terrel Horandy: You want to go out again tomorrow?
I picked up her phone and tried to open it to reply, but her passcode stopped me before I could invade her privacy too badly.
Placing the phone down on the table once again, I walked back out of her house with a new determination in my step.
She’d be saying yes to a date tomorrow…only it’d be with me.
***
“Admit it,” I told her, arm around her shoulder, as I walked her back over to her place hours later.
She rolled her eyes.
“Fine,” she said stubbornly. “So you were right.”
“I was,” I agreed. “Where do you want to go on our date tomorrow?”
So you don’t go out with Terrel.
Her lips twitched. “I get to pick?”
I nodded once. “Yeah, sure, why not? I only ask that you don’t choose Mexican unless you want to get up close and personal to how bad of a reaction I have to it. Chips and queso are my weakness.”
She frowned. “What kind of reaction?”
The nurse in her never turned off.
“The kind where I’ll be blowing up the nearest bathroom twenty minutes after finishing,” I felt it prudent to point out. “I don’t dislike Mexican at all. I just wanted to prepare you for what would happen.”
“If it makes you sick to your stomach, then you probably shouldn’t be eating it,” she pointed out.
I snorted. “And could you give up hot sauce and chips?”
She shrugged. “If it made me do that, yes. I think so, anyway.”
“Well, I can’t,” I informed her. “I have some control, but I don’t have that much control.”
After deliberating with herself inwardly, she came to a decision. “Wednesdays I usually go out to eat with my family. I can’t go out on a date with you, and now I can’t invite you because we eat Mexican.”
My brows rose. “I didn’t say that I couldn’t do Mexican, only that it tore me up after I ate it. As long as you aren’t in a rush, and don’t mind me being gone for twenty minutes after I eat, then I can do it.”
Not to mention I really wanted to go out on a date with her.
Maybe I could resist the hot sauce.
As long as she didn’t say El Torros. I had zero control when it came to El Torros. It was the one place that I missed, despite what it did to me, every time I came back after being out of the country.
“Where are you meeting, and what time? Can I give you a ride?” I pushed.
Her eyes lit. “You can pick me up from work. About six-thirty is good, and El Torros”
Well, shit.
Chapter 5
You don’t need candles on your birthday cake. All your dreams came true the moment I walked into your life.
-Things you probably shouldn’t say on your first date
Hoax
Had I known that not only would I be meeting her family, but also her extended family, I might’ve rethought telling her I’d go.
Not only had her parents come, but so had her uncles and aunts, as well as her grandfather and his wife.
All in all, twelve people sat at the table, and all of them had their eyes on me.
I’d known Silas, of course. It was hard not to when your grandfather was part of the same MC as the man, but it was only by association. My parents didn’t frequent the club parties as much, and when I’d gone to live with my uncle, he sure as fuck hadn’t spent time with them.
When I did spend time with my grandfather at those particular parties, I sure as hell didn’t go about spending time with the man. He’d been scary as fuck then, and it was easier to avoid him than meet his gaze.
Pru didn’t worry about my discomfort. She was too busy downing chips and hot sauce to spare me a glance.
Apparently, El Torros had the same effect on her as it did on me.
I’d managed to hold off on the chips for all of eighteen minutes. Then they brought the queso and tortillas out, and I was a dead man.
“What do you do for a living?”
I glanced up to find Pru’s mother, Cheyenne, staring at me with curiosity written all over her face.
I picked my glass of water up—I’d much rather be having a large glass of sweet tea—and took a small sip before biting the bullet.
“I’m active duty Army,” I told her. “I’m currently on medical leave for another two weeks until I can get this off.”
I held up my cast-wrapped arm and showed it to her.
The cast looked like crap today thanks to my workout and then firewood chopping. It had a smear of what looked to be pine sap on it, and I hadn’t been able to wipe it off. The white gauze that they use underneath the plaster was stained brown with sweat and dirt.
Though, it’d looked pretty bad before my attempt at keeping in shape, as well as busy, today.
“How’d you do that?” Sam, her father, took a sip of his beer.
He looked suspicious as hell and very unsure about me.
Then again, I’d gotten the same look from her grandfather and uncle as well.
“Motorcycle wreck,” I said. “Some guy forced me off the road and I fell into a ravine and impaled myself. Broke my arm on something on the way down.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed.
“This the trouble the club was experiencing a while back?” Sam turned to his father.
The ‘trouble’ he was speaking of was actually a man who had a hard-on for the Dixie Wardens—Silas’s club, and didn’t like them to have back-up in the form of clubs that supported them. I was one of the unfortunate examples of what would happen if we continued to support them the way we had been.
“I can make more,” Conleigh pointed out. “It literally takes like five minutes in the microwave if you have all the stuff.”
“What ingredients?” Bayou turned, his eyes on Conleigh.
“That Fritos bean dip in the small can, a package of sour cream, cream cheese, and some taco seasoning,” she explained.
“I have everything but the beans,” he said, sounding forlorn.
“I have some bean dip at home,” Pru offered softly. “I can go get them.”
Bayou’s eyes went to her and narrowed.
For a few short seconds, I thought he would actually say something about not liking her, but like the man I knew that he was, he decided to hold his tongue.
Bayou was a good man—mostly.
He was brash, dreadfully honest, intimidating, and rude—and those were just on his best days.
He wasn’t fond of newcomers, and we’d been blowing his comfort levels out of the water lately with adding all these new people to the mix in the form of girlfriends and wives.
Bayou was not a man that did well with change without being prepared for it.
And God forbid you hurt someone he considered his.
Which was likely what happened with his sister.
His sister, Brielle, might very well have been in the wrong if Pru was yelling at her. But Bayou wouldn’t care. He protected those who he thought of as his. No matter if they were wrong or not.
“Get it,” Bayou ordered.
Pru went to step away from me, but I patted her hand. “I’ll go get it. You hang out here with Conleigh. Where is it?”
Pru licked her lips and finally tore her stare away from Bayou, who still hadn’t looked away from her.
“Uhh, top shelf in my pantry. It was the door right off the kitchen,” she explained.
After extricating my arm from her grip, I left her in Conleigh’s capable hands and fast-walked across the street to her place.
Her dog was still laying on the doormat as I made my way up the front path, and when I pushed inside, the pig had moved, but only as far as to roll over in the opposite direction of the door—deeper into the shadows.
The birds were the first things I’d heard when I got over there, causing me to grin.
“You can’t handle the truth!” Bluebird exclaimed.
“So I can kiss you anytime I want!” Redbird said sweetly.
Lips twitching, I made my way to her pantry, easily found the beans, and started back out of the kitchen.
I’d gotten parallel with the table when something black caught my eye.
Pru’s phone.
It was lit up, and on the phone there was a text from a ‘Terrel Horandy.’
Terrel Horandy: You want to go out again tomorrow?
I picked up her phone and tried to open it to reply, but her passcode stopped me before I could invade her privacy too badly.
Placing the phone down on the table once again, I walked back out of her house with a new determination in my step.
She’d be saying yes to a date tomorrow…only it’d be with me.
***
“Admit it,” I told her, arm around her shoulder, as I walked her back over to her place hours later.
She rolled her eyes.
“Fine,” she said stubbornly. “So you were right.”
“I was,” I agreed. “Where do you want to go on our date tomorrow?”
So you don’t go out with Terrel.
Her lips twitched. “I get to pick?”
I nodded once. “Yeah, sure, why not? I only ask that you don’t choose Mexican unless you want to get up close and personal to how bad of a reaction I have to it. Chips and queso are my weakness.”
She frowned. “What kind of reaction?”
The nurse in her never turned off.
“The kind where I’ll be blowing up the nearest bathroom twenty minutes after finishing,” I felt it prudent to point out. “I don’t dislike Mexican at all. I just wanted to prepare you for what would happen.”
“If it makes you sick to your stomach, then you probably shouldn’t be eating it,” she pointed out.
I snorted. “And could you give up hot sauce and chips?”
She shrugged. “If it made me do that, yes. I think so, anyway.”
“Well, I can’t,” I informed her. “I have some control, but I don’t have that much control.”
After deliberating with herself inwardly, she came to a decision. “Wednesdays I usually go out to eat with my family. I can’t go out on a date with you, and now I can’t invite you because we eat Mexican.”
My brows rose. “I didn’t say that I couldn’t do Mexican, only that it tore me up after I ate it. As long as you aren’t in a rush, and don’t mind me being gone for twenty minutes after I eat, then I can do it.”
Not to mention I really wanted to go out on a date with her.
Maybe I could resist the hot sauce.
As long as she didn’t say El Torros. I had zero control when it came to El Torros. It was the one place that I missed, despite what it did to me, every time I came back after being out of the country.
“Where are you meeting, and what time? Can I give you a ride?” I pushed.
Her eyes lit. “You can pick me up from work. About six-thirty is good, and El Torros”
Well, shit.
Chapter 5
You don’t need candles on your birthday cake. All your dreams came true the moment I walked into your life.
-Things you probably shouldn’t say on your first date
Hoax
Had I known that not only would I be meeting her family, but also her extended family, I might’ve rethought telling her I’d go.
Not only had her parents come, but so had her uncles and aunts, as well as her grandfather and his wife.
All in all, twelve people sat at the table, and all of them had their eyes on me.
I’d known Silas, of course. It was hard not to when your grandfather was part of the same MC as the man, but it was only by association. My parents didn’t frequent the club parties as much, and when I’d gone to live with my uncle, he sure as fuck hadn’t spent time with them.
When I did spend time with my grandfather at those particular parties, I sure as hell didn’t go about spending time with the man. He’d been scary as fuck then, and it was easier to avoid him than meet his gaze.
Pru didn’t worry about my discomfort. She was too busy downing chips and hot sauce to spare me a glance.
Apparently, El Torros had the same effect on her as it did on me.
I’d managed to hold off on the chips for all of eighteen minutes. Then they brought the queso and tortillas out, and I was a dead man.
“What do you do for a living?”
I glanced up to find Pru’s mother, Cheyenne, staring at me with curiosity written all over her face.
I picked my glass of water up—I’d much rather be having a large glass of sweet tea—and took a small sip before biting the bullet.
“I’m active duty Army,” I told her. “I’m currently on medical leave for another two weeks until I can get this off.”
I held up my cast-wrapped arm and showed it to her.
The cast looked like crap today thanks to my workout and then firewood chopping. It had a smear of what looked to be pine sap on it, and I hadn’t been able to wipe it off. The white gauze that they use underneath the plaster was stained brown with sweat and dirt.
Though, it’d looked pretty bad before my attempt at keeping in shape, as well as busy, today.
“How’d you do that?” Sam, her father, took a sip of his beer.
He looked suspicious as hell and very unsure about me.
Then again, I’d gotten the same look from her grandfather and uncle as well.
“Motorcycle wreck,” I said. “Some guy forced me off the road and I fell into a ravine and impaled myself. Broke my arm on something on the way down.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed.
“This the trouble the club was experiencing a while back?” Sam turned to his father.
The ‘trouble’ he was speaking of was actually a man who had a hard-on for the Dixie Wardens—Silas’s club, and didn’t like them to have back-up in the form of clubs that supported them. I was one of the unfortunate examples of what would happen if we continued to support them the way we had been.
