Page 9 of Drifter
Sasha: So?? Followed by several confused-face emojis.
Me: Partners work together.
Sasha: Cool! I cook, and you do the cleanup. LOL!
Me: Tonight pie, tomorrow I’ll bring dinner.
Sasha responds with thumbs-up emojis.
I vent my frustration by banging out a dent in one of the trucks brought in by a customer who landed in a ditch. It’s therapeutic and earns the club money. A double benefit. I’m good at bodywork restoration. It’s probably because I can do it alone, and I get sucked into the detail of making it perfect as it used to be. Perfect is a strange word. When you think about it, what does it mean? Flawless? Nothing is flawless. Especially people.
As beautiful, smart, sexy, and adorable as Sasha is, I’m well aware that she has her own demons. It doesn’t make her any less valuable in my eyes. It’s what finally made me take the next step with her. It’s impossible to measure up to a flawless human being. Sasha always looks so put together. She is a community staple and beloved by all. I felt like she was an untouchable angel who I’d poison with my past.
After speaking with Hawk, I realize that I have to trust Sasha with my truth. She has to be able to accept me as I am. However, it’s hard enough to decide to date a man in a motorcycle club, knowing full well that although we don’t seek trouble, it finds us and could put Sasha in danger. Then to know that I’m fighting an internal battle with myself might be too much for Sasha to handle. If that’s the case, it’s better that I know now, before we both get in too deep.
I hope that my honesty convinces Sasha to share what’s up with her family. The buzzer goes off at five o’clock to remind me to finish up for the day. Hawk had it installed because once we get lost in our work, we often forget to walk away. I’m not alone in this. Flex, Decker, and Shooter are just as bad, and Hawk is a firm believer that we should work hard and play harder. During the week, we keep it tame and grab a couple of beers and hang out at the club, playing pool, watching the game, or shooting the shit. But weekends are for partying. The men love their Saturday nights, and women flock to the club to get attention from the bad-boy bikers. Biker bunnies are a real thing. I was into it for a while, but as I got older, it became just a temporary relief of stress, then…nothing. Emptiness.
It doesn’t help that since Hawk hooked up with Etain, he’s been off the market and the next available prime target is the VP, which is me. The last time we partied, I had to sneak away and lock myself in my room to get away from the biker bunnies hanging off me and craving my attention. Some are nice women and would make great old ladies, but not for me.
I wonder how Sasha would do at one of our parties. Etain’s been to one, and to my surprise, she was cool with the excessive drinking and liberal acts of affection. Hawk had declared the open spaces were for dancing and drinking and normal party stuff. The open sex, which normally occurred, stayed behind closed doors from that point on. He’s looking out for his woman. The guys complained at first, and I thought it wasn’t necessary, but now, with Sasha in my sights, I understand Hawk’s decision.
The aroma of food cooking permeates the air where I’m standing on Sasha’s porch. I see Sasha through the front window, placing a vase with fresh flowers on the table and fussing with the cutlery, then rushing to the oven as soon as it dings to take out a glass casserole dish.
I ring the doorbell.
“It’s open. Come on in, Drifter,” Sasha calls out. I’m instantly annoyed. She needs to lock her doors. Her father’s a cause for concern, and once it’s known that I’ve claimed Sasha as my own, it makes her a target to our enemies. We don’t look for problems, but not all MCs run the same way as we do, and since we’re new, some of the older clubs are testing our boundaries and our resolve. Guard warned us this would happen, and we, as a club, all agreed we were up for the challenge.
I let myself in, and I’m greeted by her bright smile, her hands covered by oven mittens with sunflowers on them, and she’s wearing a yellow dress that fits snug around her chest, which accentuates her small but firm breasts, then tapers in at the waist down to a full skirt that makes her look like a fifties pinup model, complete with bright red lipstick and hair swept to one side.
I hate to turn her grin into a frown, but she needs to know that leaving her front door unlocked is not an option.
“Sunshine, you left the door unlocked.”
“Yes, I did. I didn’t want you waiting outside.”
“Then give me a key, but don’t leave your door unlocked.”
“You said you’d be here by six, and I only just?—”
“No, babe. Just no! Fucked-up shit happens all the time, even in a small town. Look at what happened to Etain. It’s bad enough that your locks are easy to pick and anyone can bust through them, but at least it’s a deterrent.”
Her back goes ramrod straight, and it’s not a frown replacing the smile, but a scowl. “Now listen up, big bad biker dude, in the future, you may want to curb your animalistic tendencies and perhaps mention your concern for my safety in a calmer manner.” God, she’s absolutely stunning with the fire in her eyes. There’s no way to reel in my amused expression. “I don’t see what you find so humorous,” she says, her eyes laser-focused on mine.
“Babe, I’m thinking I like you riled up. You’re damn cute, and I want to kiss that scowl right off your face.” Her expression doesn’t change except that she raises her brows. I close the space between us until I have her within arm’s length, then I wrap my arm around her waist and haul her flat against my chest. Her hands come up between our bodies to catch herself. I lower my voice and say, “I’m sorry, sunshine. I’m not hearts and flowers, but I shouldn’t have come on that strong. You mean something to me, and I’ve seen too much to ignore an unlocked door and what can happen as a result.”
Her face goes soft, and she touches her lips to my cheek. “I haven’t learned biker speak yet. But I’ll get the hang of it. Now let me go because dinner is ready, and you need your nourishment. I’ll pick up new locks in the morning, and you’ll be installing them,” she says with a sly grin.
I shake her playfully in my arms until she giggles. It’s one of the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard. “You’ve bewitched me. You give me that smile and you cast a spell on me where I can’t resist you,” I tell her, then kiss her soundly on the mouth. “I’ll pick up the locks. They need to be heavy-duty ones.”
“Okay, handsome,” she says and slaps my shoulder, indicating for me to let her go so that she can serve up dinner.
There’s so much more I have to tell her, but I put it off. I enjoy her humming as she plates our food and carries it over to the table. I grab myself a beer from the fridge, newly stocked, because Sasha was thinking about taking care of me. Then I pick up the wineglass, fill it with a deep red cabernet, and carry it over to join her.
We talk about our day, and she tells me all about Etain and her visit. She explains the new project she’s interested in working on with an overseas company. Her face lights up when she talks about coding and software lingo. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but her excitement is contagious, and I find myself wanting to know more.
After dinner, I decide it’s time to share my past with Sasha. I tell her to leave the dishes until later and guide her to the sofa. I hold her in my arms, taking in the scent of her orange blossom shampoo, afraid of ruining this moment but knowing that she has a right to know who I am.
“Sunshine, I have to explain who I am, and I need you to promise to let me have my say and get it all out before you talk. Can you do that for me?” I start.
