Page 20 of A Taste of Whiskey
“You’re lucky Sasha messed me up,” Doc said. “Otherwise I’d still be going strong.”
“Your reputation says otherwise, bro,” Cowboy teased.
“Yeah,” Dare agreed. “Women taking off after a few weeks definitely doesn’t say you’re strong in the sack.”
Doc glowered at them. “That’s my choice, not theirs. They’d all give me a ball and chain if I let ’em.”
As they heckled each other, Ezra stepped aside to answer a call, annoyance stealing his smile. There was only one person Sasha knew of who could change his mood that quickly. Tina Fucking Moore or, as she liked to refer to Gus’s mother, the Selfish Witch of the West. The witch had never liked Sasha. The few times she’d seen her, she’d given Sasha the stink eye or made snide comments. Sasha didn’t care what Tina thought of her, but she hated how she treated Gus and took advantage of Ezra.
“Thanks for bringing this stuff down,” Cowboy said, drawing her attention as he ate half of a sandwich in one bite.
“No problem.”
“Can you go through these boxes and let us know what you want to keep?” Dare asked.
“Sure.” She started going through the boxes as her brothers and Kenny finished eating and went back to emptying the barn. She watched Ezra pacing, his every move riddled with tension. When he finally ended the call, he strode over with a pinched expression. “Everything okay?”
“Tina can’t take Gus tomorrow night.”
“Again?”Tina had never been fully reliable, but she’d gotten worse about spending time with Gus over the last year. She was supposed to take Gus on Tuesday nights and every other weekend, but she missed half of them. Last Thanksgiving she didn’t even bother telling Ezra she couldn’t take him. He’d shown up to drop Gus off, and she wasn’t there. “I have no idea how that woman sleeps at night when she’s continually disappointing her own son. Gus should beallthat matters to her, and she treats him like an afterthought.”
“No shit, but it is what it is.”
She knew he struggled with this as much as she did or more, but sometimes he was so damn good at not rocking the boat for Gus’s sake, she wanted to shake some sense into him. But now was not the time. “I know. I’m sorry, but you know my claws come out where Gus is concerned. I can watch Gus while you’re at church tomorrow night.” Church was what the Dark Knights called their club meetings.
“Thanks, Sash, but I hate to lean on you all the time. Gus isn’t your responsibility.”
“I know, but you can’t miss the meeting. So would you rather go searching for a sitter or let Gus stay with his favorite person on this ranch besides you?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Then it’s settled,” she said, excited to spend time with Gus.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I never mind spending time with my favorite little man, but be careful what you ask for. Your bare chest might be affecting my decision-making skills.”
He cocked a brow. “Gus did tell me that girls like boys who don’t wear shirts.”
She laughed as her brothers carried boxes out from the barn, bantering about Doc’s rotating bedroom door. “I’d ask where he heard that, but I think I have a fairly good idea. In all seriousness, you know I love Gus, and there’s nothing I’d rather do than hang out with him tomorrow night. But you need to put your shirt on right now, because I have boxes to go through, and”—she waved to his naked torso—“all of that is a bit distracting.”
He chuckled and walked away, shaking his head.
The view of his jeans-clad butt was equally distracting, and she enjoyed every second of it before he disappeared around the side of the barn.
Chapter Five
EZRA SAT WITH Sasha’s brothers and a few buddies in the Dark Knights’ clubhouse Tuesday night. He’d never been a religious man, and the club wasn’t religiously affiliated, but there was something spiritual about the connection the men in that room shared. Many of them had saved his father when he’d joined the club in much the same way they’d saved Ezra several years later, when he’d become a member. Like the Whiskeys, the club had given him a sense of belonging and support he’d desperately needed. He was proud to be a member of the Dark Knights brotherhood.
All other eyes were on Tiny, who was sitting at the head table beside Billie’s father, Manny Mancini, the vice president of the club, as they went over club business with the group. But Ezra’s attention was on Flame, sitting with Hyde and Taz at the next table, thumbing out a text. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was texting Sasha. She’d looked sexy as sin when she’d shown up to watch Gus, wearing cutoffs, a cute clingy long-sleeve top, and one of her many pairs of cowgirl boots. He didn’t blame the dark-haired smoke jumper for going after her. Flame didn’t have the complications Ezra did where Sasha was concerned. He didn’t work for her parents or live on their property, and he didn’t have a kid whose heart would break if he tried to make things work with her and screwed it up.
“If you haven’t signed up to volunteer at Festival on the Green, we still need a few more guys to help with security at the event,” Tiny said, drawing his attention back to the meeting. “As usual, Wynnie and Alice will be coordinating volunteers.” Alice was Billie’s mother, and Festival on the Green was a weeklong event with sidewalk sales, live music in the park, and a host of vendor tents. Redemption Ranch and the Dark Knights set up tables every year to raise awareness about who they were and what they did.
Ezra had attended community events with his mother when he was a boy, but that had ended after things started going south between his parents a few years before his mother left. His father had only sporadically attended with them and eventually had stopped attending altogether. But since joining the club, his father had never missed one. He was glad his father had found a sense of community and family, though Ezra had to wonder why he hadn’t put that effort into his own family.
He looked across the room at his father, Samuel “Pep” Moore. They’d once shared the same jet-black hair, sharp features, and broad, six-two frame, but now his father was mostly gray, his jowls were heavy, and his rounded shoulders made him appear smaller than he was. Ezra hadn’t been surprised to learn his father had been given the tongue-in-cheek road name “Pep” because he was the least peppy member of the club. He was tight lipped and rarely smiled for anyone other than Gus.
“As the last order of business, we’re moving forward with our Reindeer Ride and rally to benefit Hope Valley Hospital in August,” Tiny said, drawing Ezra’s attention away from his father. “In addition to the ride through town, we’ll be holding a toy drive for the kids at the hospital. Everyone who can be there should show up, not only for the ride and the event but to help deliver the gifts. Remember, some of these kids may not make it to the holidays.”
