Page 64 of Tracking Luxe

He was jealous of the asshole.

Oh, not of his Ruby. Good looking woman, heart of gold, but no attraction there, thank god, Preacher would knock his head off and bury him in a swampy grave.

But having someone to go home to. Grinder was starting to think that might be nice.

“Are you bringing your thief tonight?” Preach brought Grinder out of his Sally-homemaker dreams and before he could rein himself in, a scowl marred over his face at his long-term friend and had the unnatural urge to growl.

Onlyhecould call her a thief.

Oh, there was no derision in Preacher’s tone, the guy wasn’t like that, didn’t judge people for what they did and he wouldn’t ever, say a bad word against a chick, so Grinder’s instant reaction was way out of line, but it was there, niggling at the back of his skull to defend his...his, to defend Luxe, she wasn’t just a thief.

She was smart, so fucking smart, and funny with a dry wit sharp enough to cut glass, sarcastic with it and her teasing side was about as much as Grinder could take at any one given time, she riled him up, she stirred him and pissed him off more than any woman ever had before and that list included a woman who had dumped his younger self and never looked back.

She washisthief.

“Luxe. And nah. It’s not like that.” It should be like that. His mouth quirked, meeting Preacher’s upturned brow while the other brothers around them made their own noise. “She only wants one part of me, bro, I doubt she wants to sit down and have chow time.”

“Brutal.” Laughed Preacher clapping his shovel hand hard on his back, lucky for Grinder he didn’t need that part of his spine.

More fortunate for Grinder and his sob story, Rider called the meeting in order and soon as it was wrapped up it would be time for work and maybe tonight he’d get drunk and not think a second of a bewitching thief.

“So, on top of the Russian’s being up our asses, I got word theDiablo’s are having trouble from the ATF with a plague of anonymous tip-offs. Three of their boys have caught jail time in the last month. I spoke to Axel.”

“I bet that was fun.” Interrupted the Butcher, a dark twist of sarcasm lacing his usual even toned voice. The only man who had gone up against the president of the Diablo Disciples MC once upon a time, a smaller crew outside Colorado, and lived to tell the tale.

“Like a prostate exam, his boys got lifted for petty shit, stuff the ATF shouldn’t even have eyes on. He suspects a snitch. I’m putting the word out to Steele tomorrow.”

“The fuck for?” Grinder asked before he could stop himself. Every pair of eyes came at him, surprised with his outburst. Shrinking back in his chair his brows bunched in the middle and he lifted a hand to tug the beanie he always wore and found only hair up there. Fuck.

“Because, you evil shit, he’d do the same for us. We’re trying to play in the same sandpit if you’ve forgotten. I’d rather keep the other MC’s on side.”

Grinder made a noise, a verbal eye roll. “I don’t know what the fuck for, Prez. They all know we’re the biggest club, we don’t owe them anything, it should be them on their knees to us.”

“I think that’s Nate’s kinky side showing.” Lawless smirked dryly from his side of the table, one hand going back and forth on his shaved head. He was wearing a black wifebeater that showed off the full effect of his neck/collarbone tattoo. That thing was creepy as fuck.

Grinder ignored in favor of focusing on what he was hearing, that his club was about to do favors for Steele.What the fuck ever. Dickhead.

Steele who might be right now with his ...Not his… woman. Okay, he could breathe through this shit.

He felt Preacher knock his massive shoulder into his, and ask silently with his eyebrows what the fuck he was doing. He shook his head.

“Maybe theDiablo’s are just crazy stupid.” Offered Snake. “I mean, who’s to say they’re not talking about the shit they’re doing, that gets the law on the watch, those punks are trying to get in the arms trade last we heard, it’s for morons. It doesn’t take much and the cops are all over your stink.”

“Charlie Timmon’s young deputy, you know the one, wet behind those massive ears of his, is always lurking in his little patrol car. Little twat thinks he’s gonna grab one of us and he’ll be promoted to deputy fucking dawg. I’m telling ya, always gotta have eyes in the back of your head,” supplied Tag. Prince Charming, as the boys penned him was sprawling his 6’3 self at the other end of the table, fingers tapping a tune only he could hear, hair as blonde as his eyes were teal blue, not utilizing his particular set of skills at the moment since he neither had a gun in each hand or a woman sitting on his face. Instead he was nursing a cup of coffee as big as his head, from the smells of it, it was one of uncle Jed’s fancy pants coffee. Fuck, Grinder loved that stuff Jed got in for Z-girl before she got knocked up. He should have swung by the main room first and grabbed one.

“What does this mean for us?” Tag added, slurping the coffee without the table manners his mama would have beaten into him.

“It means when we go to collect the green we’re extra vigilant. If we have meets for the bunkers we double back to make sure we aren’t bein’ followed. The shops all have a veil of legal about them so I ain’t too worried for those, besides, Tex here keeps them straight,” said Rider at the head of the table. “I thought Axel might be bullshittin’, what with him not likin’ us much.” All eyes flipped to the Butcher who sat stony faced. The only indication he was taking it all in was the tick in his jaw.

“Fuck you all, seriously.” He muttered.

“Hey, we’ve all been there, brother,” smirked Arson in the process of scraping his shoulder length hair with his fingers he tied it back. Fucking hell, was church becoming a beauty parlor, Grinder mused with a grin. “Though, poking the baby daughter of a rival club… can’t say we’ve donethat. Even my dick knows there’s some places you just do not stick it to.”

“She was legal, fuck you.” Snapped the Butcher with color highlighting his cheeks.

“You mean there’s a pussy you haven’t been in, Arson? Unfuckingbelievable, we thought that shit was just an urban myth.”

Arson fired Snake a shit eating grin.

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