These women were funny, and they included Leah, asking her opinion on the guys and making jokes. Steph and Evie made them laugh with stories of the Wickeds when they were teenagers, which prompted Leah to share humorous stories of River’s younger years.
As Evie relayed a story about Madigan trying to make Tank smile and him growling and baring his teeth, Leah glanced at Tank across the yard. As if he felt the heat of her gaze, he looked over, his dark eyes holding hers, causing flutters in her belly. He mouthed, Are you okay? adding deeper emotions to the titillating ones. She smiled and nodded.
“I don’t care if they’ve slept with all of Bayside,” Marly said, bringing Leah’s attention back to the conversation. “They’re hands down some of the best men I’ve ever known.” She leaned closer to Leah. “They haven’t slept with everyone. I’m just making a point.”
“Where does Tank fit into your player and gentleman classifications?” Leah asked carefully. She had her own idea, since he’d been honest with her about his sexual proclivities, but she was interested in hearing what they thought.
The girls’ brows furrowed.
“Women have always thrown themselves at him,” Evie said. “But he’s private with his personal life.”
“I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you, Leah.” Steph glanced at Tank, catching him watching Leah again. “Or as openly. He looks like he wants to come over here and steal you away.”
Starr linked her arm with Leah’s and said, “Not until we check out the dessert table, right?”
Leah couldn’t believe she’d been intimidated by these girls who welcomed her into their group so warmly.
Reba and Ginger sidled up to the group. Reba was a little shorter than Leah, with shoulder-length mahogany hair and an outgoing personality. She had a mothering way about her, like Ginger did, and that made Leah want to spend more time around them.
“If you girls haven’t had dessert yet, you might want to grab some,” Reba said conspiratorially. “We just thwarted Poppy and Zander from raiding the dessert table for the third time.”
The other girls laughed.
“Leah, have you met Grandpa Mike—Poppy—yet? Con and Preacher’s dad? He’s not supposed to get all sugared up, but he’s a sneaky one.” Ginger pointed to an older man with wispy gray hair, a square jaw, and the aura of a tough cookie, like Clint Eastwood.
“Not yet.” Leah remembered what Tank had said about Mike being one of the best men he’d ever known, and she was curious about the man whose wisdom Tank had shared with her. “But I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
“He and Tank have always been close. They’ve pulled each other through the toughest times,” Ginger said.
“They have a lot in common,” Reba added. “They’re both ornery as can be, but they say the funniest things, and always with an edge, like the rest of our Wicked men.”
“You’re in for a treat when you meet him,” Chloe said. “I love Grandpa Mike. We have dinner every Wednesday night while the guys are at church.”
“Church? Do all the guys go to church together? Does Tank go?” Leah wasn’t very religious, and she wondered if that would make a difference to him.
“Yes, but something tells me you’re thinking of a religious church,” Ginger said.
Leah was confused. “What other kind is there?”
“Church is what the motorcycle club calls their meetings, and all the members are required to attend.”
“Why do they call it church?” Leah asked.
“Honey, that’s a question that you’ll get too many answers to. Some say it’s because the gathering of the club is a religious experience, others say it’s all about community, and you’ll even hear that they call it church to keep the club under a shadow of mystery.” Reba waggled her brows. “But while I can’t answer that question, I can tell you why we call cupcakes and chocolate cake delicious. Who’s up for dessert?”
There was a collective Me! and they headed for the refreshment tables. Ginger looped her arm through Leah’s and said, “Are you doing okay, honey?”
Leah had started the day with dread, and hours later, she was being cared for by Tank and too many others to count, sharing stories about River, watching the girls play with friends their age, and about to have a snack with a group of new girlfriends. She’d probably cry her eyes out later, but right now she could enjoy all of this goodness Tank had brought together for her. “I’m okay. Actually, I’m better than okay.”
AS AFTERNOON FADED into evening, the solar lanterns twinkled to life, and the last of the guests left. Everyone had pitched in to help clean up, including Junie and Rosie. The girls walked around the yard with Zeke, Tank, and Leah, picking up trash. Zeke used to be a special education teacher, and he was great with kids. He told the girls stories about nature hikes he’d taken, his favorite subject, and the girls told him about walks they’d taken with River. Tank stuck close by Leah as she teared up one minute and laughed the next. Zeke promised to take the girls on a hike one day, and the girls couldn’t stop talking about it. Tank loved seeing his family embracing Leah and the girls.
Now they were all hanging out on the upper deck. Leah sat between Tank and Madigan, talking with his grandfather. Junie was fast asleep on Tank’s chest, one little hand wrapped around his necklace, the other holding Mine. Rosie was curled up in Conroy’s lap with her memory blanket and Boo. The hum of conversations filled the air, but Tank was listening to his grandfather Mike talking with Leah.
“It’s not often that I get to spend time with little ones,” Mike said. “Your girls remind me of my daughter, Sonja, when she was just a tiny thing growing up with my three boys, Preacher, Conroy, and Jacob. By the time Sonja was Juju’s age, she was bossing her brothers around.”
Leah smiled. “You called her Juju. That’s what I call her.”
“Heck yeah, I did. That’s what Smiley calls her.” He pointed to Rosie.
That brought a warm glow to Leah, and man, Tank loved that look on her.
Mike waggled his finger. “You’ve brought them up well, young lady. You should be proud. Raising young ones isn’t easy.”
“I can’t take all the credit. River helped raise them. He was always teaching them right from wrong, but he had a playful way of doing it by telling stories and making them laugh. I remember when he got his guitar at the Swap Shop. It had scratches and broken strings, but he used it to teach the girls about taking care of their things. Funny thing is, while they learned to put their toys away, he always left the darn thing out.” She laughed softly. “He acted like there was nothing they couldn’t understand. As he taught himself to play the guitar, he taught the girls, too. He’d say the chords and they’d repeat them. He had this way of making us all feel special, like he’d miss us the second he walked out the door. Before he left the house the night of the accident, he bowed dramatically, like he was ending a show, and said, ‘Farewell, my beautiful ladies.’” Tears slid down her cheeks.
Tank put his arm around her, hugging her against his side as she dabbed at her tears with tissues.