“Uh, I think it was like a six, but it was more confusion than being upset.” He just didn’t really get how I had gone from running to get my wallet to at a craft fair thing with his mom four hours away. I was still a bit confused by it too.
“Confusion is the state of mind when dealing with Meg,” Cyn agreed.
Meg tsked and stopped at a booth selling hand crocheted oven mitts. “Ha, ha. You can talk all the crap you want about me, but you know your life would be boring as hell if I weren’t a part of it.”
“True dat,” Cyn agreed.
Meg bought three purple oven mitts and placed an order for five more to be made.
“You ever think you might have an addiction to purple?” Cyn hooked her arm through Meg’s and pulled her away from the booth. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to talk Lo into painting his bike purple.”
Meg scoffed. “I tried. He told me that would happen over his dead body.”
Cyn raised an eyebrow. “And that stopped you?”
A devilish smile crossed her lips. “As far as he knows, it has, but once I show him the color scheme the guys in the body shop have come up with, I know he’ll repaint it.”
“Lord have mercy,” Cyn mumbled.
“Keep shush about that.” Meg nodded to the opening that had a bunch of picnic tables. All of them were full except for three on the edge that three guys were standing in front of. “Lo has no clue.”
Cyn laughed. “Honey, I’m pretty sure he has a clue, but he’s not letting you know because he lets you do your own thing.”
Meg sighed dreamily. “Even if it means painting his bike purple passion paradise.”
“Not happening, babe,” one of the guys standing by the picnic tables called.
Cyn busted out laughing, and Meg stomped her foot. “I’m forty feet away from you! How did you hear me?” she called. We made our way over to the two guys, and Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “Explain yourself, King.”
Cyn cringed, and the two guys with Lo took a step back.
He held up one finger. “One. I read the words ‘purple passion paradise’ on your lips. Had an invoice come across my desk yesterday for a shit ton of paint with just that name.” He raised his sunglasses from his eyes and rested them on the top of his head. “That shit ain’t fucking happening, babe. I will not be riding around on a purple fucking bike. Get that shit out of your head.” He added one more finger. “Two. Call me King again, and you know exactly where you are going to wind up.” A slow smile spread across his lips. “Even if you like being there.”
Meg stomped her foot again. “Not fair at all. You haven’t even seen what Marco came up with.”
He took a step toward her. “Just because he’s Fayth’s kid doesn’t mean I won’t tell him to take a hike if he touches my bike with that unicorn fairytale bullshit.”
“He’s good, Lo. Real good,” Meg insisted.
“I know he is, babe. That’s why I snatched him away from that rinky dink race team Remy got him in with. He’s there to do custom paint jobs on customer’s bikes, not mine.” Lo took another step closer to her. “I see you’re looking to end up over my knee tonight.”
Meg smacked him on the shoulder. “Stop,” she hissed. She hitched her thumb over her shoulder at me. “Harlyn is standing right there. I don’t want to embarrass her.”
“At least not yet,” he drawled.
Cyn hooked her arm through mine and pulled me over to the two guys who had been standing with Lo.
One guy had a blue mohawk, and I knew right away he was with Cyn. While Meg had loved anything purple, Cyn always gravitated to anything blue. Although her obsession with the color was a bit less obvious than Meg’s.
“I see you brought your kidnapping victim back safe and sound,” the one with the blue mohawk smirked.
“It wasn’t a kidnapping, Rigid.”
Bingo. I was right about him being Cyn’s. I held my hand out to Rigid. “I really did get in the car willingly. After all, they had candy.”
It took five seconds with Rigid staring at me like I was crazy before he realized that I was joking. He and the other guy with him roared with laughter, and even Cyn giggled.
“You’re just what Remy needs.” Rigid shook my hand I still had outstretched. “Damn kid is all work and no play.”
“He’s a good kid,” Cyn chided. “Just because he isn’t going out on benders like you did when you were his age doesn’t mean he’s boring or a stick in the mud. Stable is good, Rig.”
“He did land her,” the other guy put in with a nod toward me.
Cyn huffed. “Do you two ever think before you speak? I swear, it’s a miracle Gwen and I put up with you too.”
Ah, so this was Gwen’s husband. Gwen and Fayth had wandered off after Meg cleaned out the first two booths of all the apple candles. It was like they knew if they stayed, they would be stuck lugging around all of Meg’s bags.
I turned to Gwen’s husband with my outstretched hand. “I’m Harlyn, and I’m the lucky one for landing Remy.”
Rigid laughed, and Cyn sighed, “Young love.”
“I’m Gambler, sweetheart.”
I gave a small smile and took a step back. The man had a dangerous smile and charm about him that could snare any woman within a twenty mile radius.
“Put away the charm, Casanova.” Gwen scolded as she set her bags down at Gambler’s feet. “She’s got the younger version.”
Gambler snagged her around the waist and pulled her to his side. “You saying I’m old, woman?”
She shrugged and threw a wink my way. “I mean, if the Bengay fits.”
He lowered his voice. “I thought we weren’t going to discuss that in public? It was one time that we went on a long ride, and I was sore. You were the one that gave it to me.”
Gwen reached up and patted his cheek. “I know, baby. It’s hard being thirty-nine.”
“Once Grant and Greta go to sleep, you can bet your ass I’m going to show you just how old I am,” Gambler warned.
“Lord, have mercy. I moved her away from King and Meg because they were about to get into it, and now I need to steer her somewhere else cause you to can’t keep your pants zipped.” Cyn hooked her arm through mine again. “Maybe we’ll get something to eat while you two cool down.”
Gambler flipped Cyn off, and Gwen pelted him on the shoulder while yelling at him.
Rigid fell into step next to Cyn but didn’t talk.
“I’m assuming Remy warned you about his mom, but I’m sure he didn’t tell you the Devil’s Knights are their own brand of crazy, though,” Cyn explained.
“It’s just the women,” Rigid put in. “The guys just try to keep up with them and make sure they don’t wind up in jail.”
“One time the cops got called when Meg and I broke a bed, and no one can let it go.” Cyn tightened her hold on my arm and veered us away from Rigid a few steps.
“Oh, I’ve heard about this bed incident. I think I’m going to need more details.” This was the third time I had heard mention of a broken bed, and my interest was more than piqued.