“You’re right, sweet pea,” Lucie said softly, her voice making me look up so I could see her, standing in the doorway, a soft smile on her lips. “I do. I did then, too, but I’d have even dressed up in purple if it meant playing with your daddies.”
Ama gasped. “No!”
Lucie’s nod was solemn. “Yes.”
“But you hate purple more than pink!” Amaryllis argued, closing her book and holding it to her little chest as she twisted to face her momma.
“I know I do. See the things I do for your daddies?” she teased, and Ama huffed.
“I’d never play brown to play with some boys.”
Lucie grinned. “You wouldn’t now, maybe. Let’s wait until you’re older, huh?” When Wolfe and I growled at that, Lucie shot us a look with eyes that were twinkling with amusement. “Although, I think you like playing with Lawrence, don’t you?” Ama’s cheeks burned. “He’s outside. Why don’t you go play with him?”
Ama huffed. “Don’t want to.” She opened her book, pressed her face so close to the page that she was practically living within the pages, and I knew that was our conversation done for the day.
Even though I’d have liked to carry on talking about the past, I didn’t push her. Wolfe seemed to be on the same page too because we both got to our feet and headed over to Lucie.
She pressed a hand to each of our chests and murmured, “Thank you both for trying.”
Wolfe just nodded before heading off toward the front door. As I studied his tense back, I stopped Lucie from going after him. “Leave him. He needs a beer.”
She sighed. “You’re right. I need to go back to the kitchen. I’m helping Dorie.”
Grinning down at her, I told her, “This I have to see.”
As we moved toward the front of the house where the kitchen was situated, she asked, “Why?”
“I never imagined you as a domestic goddess.”
Her nose crinkled, and the gesture was so like the one Amaryllis had made that my heart went pitter-fucking-patter in my chest. “I’m not. Not really.”
“Then why are you helping in the kitchen?”
“Easier than being out there,” she admitted with a sigh.
“They’ll come around,” I told her, hauling her into my side so I could squeeze her.
“I know. Just… not yet.”
“Hey Axe. You going to help us make potato salad?” Dorie teased, the second I crossed the threshold.
I snorted. “Only if you want it to be burned.”
“How the hell can you burn potato salad?”
“The potatoes need to be cooked, don’t they?” I retorted.
“You should be good with a cleaver. That’s like an ax, ain’t it?” Dorie asked, tapping her chin as she thought about a task she could give me.
Lucie laughed. “Let’s not test it.”
Smirking, Dorie returned to her own task—looked like she was icing a couple dozen cupcakes. Because the job seemed pretty fucking thankless, I kept my mouth shut in case she asked for help, and turned to look out the window.
In the near distance, there was a bonfire that had been stacked since this morning when we’d had all the prospects building it. We wouldn’t light it until darkness fell, but everyone was hanging out around it, most of them with some BBQ on their paper plates as they talked, danced to the music that was blaring out from speakers that were set out around the front of the house, and basically having a good time.
The sweetbutts had to make themselves scarce on Sundays, because we didn’t want any kids seeing them with any of the bikers, and that was why the old ladies were in the kitchen cooking when that would normally be the clubwhores’ job.
It pleased me to see my brothers and their families looking so happy in the bright midsummer’s day. I wasn’t one for introspection, but ever since Lucie had returned, I’d taken to overthinking shit, trying to understand how everything had changed, all so I could find my new balance. That wasn’t to say I wasn’t happy, because I was, still, Lucie had a way of making a man’s world rock and I was just trying to roll with the punches.
In the industrial kitchen, Dorie and Lucie worked to set up the side dishes. I knew Dorie was a bit of an introvert unless it was with people she liked, and that she and Lucie got on so well told me that Dorie had never believed Bomber, so she’d had more faith in Lucie than we had… Well, that made me feel like shit, even though I was glad Lucie had at least one friend.
“Do you need more help?” I asked when, after twenty minutes, no one else came in and offered their aid.
Dorie snorted. “Nope. I’m used to it.”
I scowled. “That’s shit. I can get some prospects in to help. You should have said that no one was helping out, Dorie.”
“I like it when it’s quiet. Don’t need all those old hens chattering away.”
Lucie laughed. “Can’t believe you’re Wheels’ old lady, Dorie.”
The other woman chuckled. “That’s exactly why I need the peace. You know he chatters more than the sweetbutts.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I said around a laugh of my own.
“Surprised you ain’t got into it with some of the sweetbutts, Lucie. Not with the way they hang around your men.”
My laughter died and I glowered at her, but Dorie had been raised with us so she just cocked a brow at me, then, stunned me by sticking out her tongue.
Lucie snorted. “They’ll learn. Soon enough.” The warning was for me too.
I heeded it by staying out of the conversation.
“You still thinking of moving out?”
Shit, Lucie had talked about this with Dorie? But, even as I grumbled inwardly, I couldn’t be too mad. Not when I knew how loud this place was, how inappropriate too—I’d fallen over two couples fucking in the bar before I’d sought out Wolfe for our little conversation with Amaryllis. It wasn’t like I could say shit. They’d been two brothers with their old ladies, and everyone knew that the bar was where any kind of scene could go down.
“Yeah. I keep meaning to, then I get bogged down with something else.”
Dagger had told me she wanted us to move with her, so I wasn’t scared of her leaving, but fuck, it would be a real upheaval and it wasn’t like we worked a nine-to-five. We needed to be on hand most hours of the day, especially when it came down to runs, and hell, they were safe here. That mattered to me more than anything. Especially with those bastard Knights hovering around the perimeter of our lives.
Still, if we kept her busy, then maybe she’d forget entirely… wasn’t a bad plan, even if it was devious, and where devious was concerned, it meant outwitting a master.
Or, in this case, mistress, because Lucie was one of the best bullshitters I’d ever seen. Definitely meant we had to bring our A game to the table.
❖
Wolfe
Four days later
“Okay, give me the details.”
Lucie, ever difficult, squinted at me. “Details about what?”
“You know what.”
She hitched a shoulder. “Maybe.”