Page 98 of When the Smoke Clears

“You staying?” It’s as if he wants to confirm that his honesty hasn’t altered my opinion of him.

I scan the space again. “Yeah.”

He gestures to the couch, and I perch on it stiffly while he sits in a leather wingback chair. These are some of the nicest pieces of furniture in the building, and I see why he has them here.

He draws an ankle up on the opposite knee and rests his hands casually. Aside from the afternoon at the funeral, he’s always been so calm and collected. Peaceful even. I’m beginning to dissect these events. Is his calm nature a show?

He wears a couple thick silver rings on each hand. Tattoos peek from under his white dress shirt. My mind is beginning to spiral.

“So, tell me about the club. The Falcons,” I finally inquire. He pins me with a pointed look. I hold his gaze, determining how far I want to push. Finally, I add, “It’s a social group, right?”

He stares a moment longer before dipping his chin. “Aye. A social club.” His head cocks to one side. “We participate in many volunteer events. Funerals for fallen soldiers and veterans, charity events, things of that nature.”

I study his face. The set of his bearded jaw, the ease of his gaze. It all seems casual, but the longer I look, the more I see. His secrets are exposed by the way his features resemble my own. We approach the same conclusion together, a silent conversation between us. We’re dancing around something here. “Very community-oriented,” I summarize.

My chest aches. I don’t expect him to be an open book, but I don’t know if I can handle another parent who isn’t genuine with me.

For now, I’ll accept the half-truth he’s offering. One day, that may change. “How did Colt play into all of this? Everyone is volunteer basis?”

For a split second, his jaw tightens, but it relaxes as his measured voice pours out. “There’s a voting system in the club. Colt’s behavior when he was voted in for Prospect was different than at the end.” He clasps his fingers together. “Everyone has their role to fulfill.”

“And Ginger? What’s her role?” I don’t actually want to know if he is screwing her, but I do need to know what to expect moving forward.

He smirks. “I saw that spat when you were here last. Seems to me you told her to shut her bake alright.”

My eyebrows squeeze together. “Sorry? Shut her…did you say beak?”

He laughs loudly, a huge belly laugh that brings an immediate smile to my face. “Bake. Her mouth.”

His clarification only makes me laugh. “That’s a new one.”

Regaining composure, he adds, “Ginger was the old lady of a former member. He’s gone now and she needed work, so the club agreed to let her stick around.” He looks me over. “I tend not to interfere with disagreements in the club unless things get too heated. You handled yourself well, but if you don’t want to argue, best stay far from her.”

“Because she’s got a stick up her ass?”

He grins. “Something like that. She’s friendly enough with the members, and she doesn’t cause a lot of drama in the women, which is good because I’ve little patience for it. “

I cross my arms. “I make no promises. I won’t go out of my way to provoke her, but I’m not backing down if she antagonizes me again.”

“And I wouldn’t ask you to.” He rubs his hand over his leg, contemplating something. “While we’re discussing club members, Pete seems keen on you.”

I shake my head with a breathy laugh. “No. Pete likes my friend Leah.”

“That the wild one that was with you at the bar?”

I scrunch my face. I’m not sure what to think of him noticing her.

He chuckles. “Simmer down. I kept an eye is all.”

After a discerning pause, I answer, “Yes, that’s Leah. Pete wants me to put in a ‘good word’ for him.” I try to imitate his voice.

James smiles. “And will you?”

It’s not that I have a problem with him. She makes her own decisions in that department, and truthfully, I think she’ll chew him up and spit him out. He’s just too soft. But more than that, I just don’t know him well enough to push them together.

“No, I won’t.”

His eyebrows jump, genuine surprise masking his features.

---