“Just when I think I’m about to like you, you’re an ass again.”
He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “How am I an ass?”
“The next time you’re stressed, I’ll just tell you to chill out and completely ignore how you feel. See how you like it.”
“I didn’t tell you to chill out. I told you to stop thinking so much.”
“What’s the difference?” I demanded in a huff.
“Mia, grab a beer. Then I’ll give you my phone to use, but only so you can call your bank. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Colt jotted down the clubhouse address and said, “Have your shit sent there.”
He left me alone while I sat at the kitchen table to take care of business. A beer later, I had cancelled all my credit cards and requested new ones. Until then, I was at Colt’s mercy. If I wanted anything, I’d have to ask him.
My pride prickled at the idea. But I was shit out of luck. I’d keep a running tally in my head of everything I owed and when I had access to my bank account again, I’d pay him back.
I didn’t know Colt. And here I was, sitting in his kitchen, my bare feet resting on his wooden floor. It was unsettling, but only because it wasn’t. I felt comfortable in his home, despite his growly nature.
Colt walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out another beer. “How’s it going?”
“It’s done.”
“Great. I’ve got some good news.”
I perked up. “Zip was able to get my truck?”
“No. Joni is coming over with clothes for you.”
“Ah, just call me Charity Case Barbie.”
Colt’s laughter boomed through the kitchen and I found myself laughing along with him. I was so deep into our moment that I didn’t hear the front door open and I jumped when Joni appeared in the doorway of the kitchen looking shell-shocked.
“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded. “Are you laughing? Did you actually get my brother to laugh?”
“It’s not the first time,” I said.
Her gaze went to Colt. “Interesting.”
“It’s not that interesting,” Colt drawled.
Joni rolled her eyes. “I thought you’d forgotten how to smile. I’m immensely glad to find it was just in hiding for the past few years.”
“Great. Now I’m saddled with two broads who like to give me shit,” Colt muttered.
“Saddled?” I asked. “You’ve been saddled with me?”
He shrugged, but didn’t reply.
“I could stay with Zip. I’m sure his offer is still good,” I taunted.
Colt’s face tightened and I looked away to speak to Joni. Her face had gone blank and the color in her cheeks had fled.
I frowned in confusion, wondering about her sudden change in mood. She’d obviously come directly from the hospital since she was still in her scrubs. “Do you live here, too?”
She smiled, but I could tell it was strained. “No. There’s no feminine touch here to speak of. It’s a dude paradise. Have you seen the giant flat screen in the living room?”
“You were the one who told me I had to have it,” Colt pointed out. “You’re also the one that has reality TV watch-parties at my place.”
“The screen is so high def you can see pores,” Joni explained.
I laughed, enjoying their banter. Colt was relaxed with her in a way he wasn’t with other people. Even with Zip, his vice president, Colt held himself apart.
“Where are the clothes you promised?” Colt asked.
“Laura is bringing them.”
Colt looked at his sister and sighed.
I didn’t like that sigh. “Who’s Laura?”
Joni glanced at Colt and raised her eyebrows. “You going to take this one?”
“Yeah,” I drawled in Colt’s direction. “You going to take this one?”
Colt glared at his sister who walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer and popped the top off. She took a sip and then said, “We’re waiting.”
Understanding registered and I threw a smile with just a little too much teeth at Colt. “Girlfriend?”
Joni snorted into her beer, but Colt’s glower only made her laugh harder. “Colt doesn’t have girlfriends.”
“Fuck buddy, then? You’re having your fuck buddy come over to clothe your new charity case?”
“She’s not my fuck buddy,” Colt barked. “She doesn’t belong to me.”
“Belong to you?” I repeated. “Joni, translate please.”
“Joni, wait on the porch for Laura,” Colt countered.
She didn’t push her brother, but instead took her beer and walked out of the room. I watched her leave, and when I was sure we were alone, I turned back to Colt who looked unperturbed by my outburst.
“Laura hangs around the club and fucks the bikers. Whoever she wants.”
“Well, thanks for not mincing words.” I frowned. “So she’s what…a Blue Angels groupie?”
“Basically.”
“But that’s so offensive.”
“To you maybe. She’s not forced into it. It’s a choice, until someone makes her an Old Lady.”
“And an Old Lady is what, exactly?”
“A biker’s woman. A wife or a steady girlfriend of a brother. They have the protection of the club, but it also means she’s off-limits to any other club member. And when there are parties with other clubs, Old Ladies are not fair game.”
“So, Laura sleeps with whoever she wants in the club and none of you care?”
“Some care more than others,” he stated.
“Do you care?”
“Nah, doesn’t bother me.”
“Are you still sleeping with her?” I demanded.
Colt’s smile was slow but hot. “No.”
“Do you want to still be sleeping with her?”
“No.”
I hated the relief that blasted through me. I had no right to be jealous. Colt could sleep with whoever he wanted.
His eyes dipped and I knew he was staring at my mouth. Joni’s return interrupted our moment. A curvy brunette with wide, brown doe eyes followed her. The woman’s tank top and mini skirt showed a lot of skin and tattoos, but her smile was wide and friendly when she greeted me.
“Into the living room,” Joni commanded.
“Why?” I asked, even as I stood up.
“Because that’s where all the bags are,” Laura said.
“Bags?” Colt asked as he trailed behind me.
“Bags,” Laura reiterated.
“We ran to the store to get you underwear and toiletries.”
“Then what’s the other stuff?” Colt demanded.
“Laura is helping organize the charity yard sale for the elementary school. I asked if she had any women’s clothes in teeny-tiny sizes.” Joni grinned. “Someone dropped off a bunch of stuff.”
“A lot of the clothes still have the tags on them,” Laura said.
“Wow,” I said, riffling through one bag and pulling out a pair of dark skinny-leg jeans. “This is great. Thanks, Laura.”
“You’re welcome.”