Page 70 of Defended By Bam
It was still fairly early, but I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got up and showered. Once I was done, I rifled through our bag. I only had a few outfits with me. I fished out the last clean pair of panties and tossed on one of Bama’s white tanks and recycled my shorts from the day before. I was at the pool most of the day, so I only wore them for a couple of hours.
Once I slipped on my sneakers, since I’d be cleaning with Glenda, I headed to Sofie’s room and did inventory on her clothes. Not much there, either. I could wash our clothes here, so I grabbed her things, then went to collect ours and headed straight to the laundry room to toss them in. Then I went to the main room to grab coffee and breakfast before work.
“Hey, Linny,” Sunny said. She had platinum hair and looked like a doll with a perfectly cinched waist and huge boobs. She knew her way around the clubhouse and was good about helping out when she stayed. “Coffee?”
“Yes, thank you. How you doing?”
She pulled a mug from the back wall of the bar and poured me some coffee. “Not bad. You?” she asked before putting some individually wrapped half and halfs in front of me and a canister of sugar. I missed the flavored creamer Bama got me.
Pouring sugar in, then pulling the top off several of the half and half tubs, I answered, “Not bad at all.” Stirring my coffee, I stopped. “Really fucking great, actually.”
The smile that spread probably was cheesy, but I didn’t care. Everything was really fucking great. Damn near perfect. I had the perfect man for sure and found perfect friends. The only imperfection was more of an inconvenience: club business. At least with club business, I knew it was really about the club, and it was best I wasn’t in the know. With Marshall, he was secretive about work, even though he wasn’t an investigator or anything, and a lot of it was more to cover his indiscretions. He really thought he had me fooled with OT. How does a cop not realize you can’t cover the stench of alcohol, smoke, and another woman’s smell?
“Congrats on the patch. Bama’s a good one. You hungry? I popped some biscuits in a while ago.”
“Sounds yummy. Need some help?”
She waved me off. “Nope, just helping out until Pinkie rolls out of bed.”
Since I wasn’t officially a club girl, I still didn’t understand their schedules or assignments. I did know Pinkie always did kitchen duty, and Glenda did housekeeping. But some of them seemed to rotate. I did housekeeping to hang out with Glenda.
***
After a yummy bacon biscuit breakfast and too much coffee, Glenda and I got on with our tasks and gabbed all the way through. You’d think a bunch of bikers would be messier, but honestly the only places that got a little harder to clean were the women’s restrooms and the main room that used to be a casino and bar. As far as I knew, there was no official name for it, but it was the common area they frequented, even where there wasn’t a party.
Since I’d been spending more time at the clubhouse, not nearly as intense partying had been going on as that first night I was here, and the girls who worked the bar and kitchen often helped pick up through the day and night.
We headed back to the laundry area and switched loads. I’d already dried and folded what little we had with us but hadn’t taken it to our room yet.
“I need to take these up.” Sighing, I said, “Hey, sounds like we may be stuck here again and Bama seemed too busy to stop. You think you can run me to the house? I promised Sofie Fluffikins and that didn’t happen. Plus, I could use another change of clothes and if I have to drink one more cup of coffee with plain half and half, I may lose my mind.”
Glenda giggled. “I guess. I need to run by the store, anyway. Mind if we stop on the way back?”
“Nope. I may need to grab some creamer. The one at home should still be good, but if not, I need some!”
“I take it black, so I don’t have these problems,” Glenda said.
“I know. I’ve stared. But I’m not a badass like you. I need the flavored creamer.”
She rolled her eyes but chuckled. “Hardly a badass. Let me go grab my keys.”
After a few minutes, we met up at the front door and headed outside. We’d both opened the doors to her tiny two-seater car, but Ollie shouted from the sidewalk, “Hey, where the hell are you going?”
Glenda leaned on her door, looking over with squinted eyes. “Running to the store and by the house.”
He started walking to the parking lot, his silver ponytail blowing in the hot breeze. “I’m following.”
We both rolled our eyes. “Is that necessary?
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he straddled his Harley, put on his helmet, then fired up the engine.
We shook our heads, but climbed into the car and buckled in.
“Maybe he can carry my tampons for me,” Glenda said.
“I need you to make that happen.” I started laughing. “Can you imagine Ollie with his bandana, cut, and long hair carrying a box of tampons around?”
She started the car and pulled out of the parking spot, heading to the road. “Either he’ll run off or he’ll take them, cradle them, and growl at anyone who looks at him sideways. I’m excited to find out.”
