Page 89 of Kings Fear No One
Sydney samples a spoonful, her eyes lighting up. “No wonder Freddie was so crazy about her when she came around the diner. She can throw down in the kitchen.”
“Don’t forget she owned her own restaurant once. Her and my grandpa.”
“I remember. Renae’s Kitchen.”
“It only closed ’cuz of his heart attack. They couldn’t handle it anymore.”
“Maybe we should put you in charge of the club’s food,” Sydney says. At my scoff, she insists. “You’re Logan’s old lady, which basically makes you a member of the club. All the old ladies have some role in activities run by the club.”
I smirk at her. “I’ll think about it.”
The crowds arrive within minutes once the event kicks off. People come from every pocket of Pulsboro to browse the booths and check out the sparkling motorcycles put on display.
“Can I interest you ladies in a tattoo?” Ozzie grins at us.
“You mean a fake tattoo?” Sydney asks in return.
“Ozzie, didn’t you say the ink you brought is real—?” Hope starts only for Ozzie to cough loudly. She realizes a second too late she’s supposed to stop talking.
Sydney puts her hands on her hips. “If I find out you’re doing real tattoos on people…”
“You’ll what, Syd? Tattle on me?”
“That’s exactly what I’ll do. Then Mace’ll kick your ass.”
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “It should be against the club bylaws for the head old lady to issue threats.”
“Then what’s the fun in being head old lady?” Sydney asks.
We share our own laugh as we continue navigating the booths. Eventually we stumble on our guys. The brothers have never resembled each other more—an inch separates them in height and though there’s differences in their appearance, like Mason’s green eyes and Logan’s mop of dark hair, you can tell they’re brothers. The vague resemblance lives in the dimensions of their face. The general builds of their tall, muscular bodies.
Even how they carry themselves.
Sydney nudges her elbow into my rib. “Do you realize, soon we’ll be sisters-in-law?”
A slow smile comes to my face. “I’ve never thought about that before, but we will.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I hope you’ll stay.”
…I think I will.
Logan and Mason look up at us at the same time. Mason’s gaze lights up for Sydney while Logan’s glints for me. Sydney goes to Mason. I step toward Logan almost bashfully before he opens his arms and drags me the rest of the way into him.
“There you are,” he says, kissing my cheek. “Thought I was going to have to send out a search party.”
“Funny, because I feel the same way about you.”
“Hungry? I heard the home-cooked mac and cheese that the club’s prepared is the best people have ever had.”
My face warms at the subtle-yet-not-so-subtle compliment. “Nobody said it was the best ever.”
“You think I’m lying? I overheard two people just now. Besides, did you forget you’ve been cooking for me nonstop? Everything you make is too damn good.”
I let out a humble laugh as he leads me toward the food booth that’s selling our sides. Bush’s wife, Lesley, is running it. She beckons us over the second she spots us.
“Here, have some before it’s gone. The rate we’re selling, we’ll be out by mid-afternoon.” Scooping a large spoonful of mac and cheese into one of the paper bowls, she hands it over to Logan with two spoons.
Logan offers me the first bite. I shake my head, conscious of the shake in my belly. My appetite hasn’t been what it used to be, but that’s never been truer than in public settings. I’d be even more anxious if I didn’t have Logan at my side.
