Page 52 of Property of Riptide
“I think that’s the first time anyone’s used the word perfect when it comes to me,” he says, lightening the mood. “As long as you keep thinking that way, I’ll stay on that pedestal you’ve put me on.”
“Don’t get a bloated head, mister,” I say, pinching his side.
“Ouch, woman. You’ve got a mean pinch. Something you wanna tell me, like you’re part lobster?”
“I’m a mighty tasty morsel,” I tease, playing on his pun.
“Fuck yeah, you are,” he growls. “Best thing that’s ever hit my taste buds.”
“Alright, that’s enough of that,” I say, pushing him back. “We have little ears listening and you promised me a tour.”
He places a gentle kiss on my temple and releases me. “I’ll be back in a flash.” As he turns away from me and heads toward our boy, I giggle because he’s adjusting himself in his jeans. “Not funny, Van. I’m going to be walking around the compound with a hardon. Do you know how difficult that’ll be?”
“Like flying a tent? I know for a fact that you’re packing a long, thick pole.”
“Van! You can’t say shit like that to me and expect me not to react. That’s cold, woman.”
“Don’t worry, biker man. I’ll warm you up later.”
“Fuck,” he mumbles as he lifts Gage and high tails it out of the room.
As we walk beneath the fence that separates the clubhouse from the graveyard, I glance up at the gate and readKing’s Cemetery and Mausoleumsoldered into the metal overhead frame in fancy script.
The artistry is eerie but beautiful at the same time.
“So the crematorium isn’t inside the clubhouse?” I ask as we finish our trek through the cemetery and make it to the funeral home he and his club brothers own. “That’s the way I pictured it when we were talking before. So you all come here if the weather gets crazy?”
“When we have enough of a warning, yeah. We do have a bomb shelter underneath the clubhouse as well, it’s a newdevelopment and addition, but it’s still not as safe as it is here,” he tells me. “This is structurally more sound.”
“So when Zoey and I start stocking, we need to buy enough things for both places in case we can’t get here and the clubhouse is closer?” I’m already mentally checking off things we’ll need to gather for Gage and Elodie in case the weather turns nasty. Nine out of ten Texas towns aren’t known as Tornado Alley for the heck of it.
“That’d probably be for the best.” He unclasps his keys from his loop and unlocks the doors. As he steps inside, he turns off the alarm and waves me inside. “As you can see, this place is built for catastrophe.” He’s not wrong, this building is sturdy.
Turning in a circle, I take in the sights. “I’m glad this place isn’t cold and sterile. You’ve made it a comfortable place for families to mourn.” Soft couches line the walls, plaques with beautiful sayings and poems honoring the ones lost, are hung fashionably—perfectly aligned. Plants and flowers are sporadically positioned around the room, giving it a fragrant smell and aesthetic look. It’s homey, which is an odd thing to think considering this is a place that is filled with sorrow and loss.
“Icer, Indiana, and I have offices here and at the clubhouse. During business hours, you can find us here unless there’s something club related we have to take care of. Zoey basically runs this place, we’re just the financial backers and faces of the operation,” he jest.
“I bet she keeps y’all on your toes. I’d take a gamble that y’all were never as organized as you are now with her running things from behind the scenes.”
“That’s a bet you’d win. Hands down,” he states. “Before she came onboard and joined the team, I thought we had everything in tip top shape, but I’ve seen the error of our ways. Maybe one day, I’ll convince you to join us, too.”
“Don’t count on it, Rush. The dead don’t bother me, but I don’t want it to become my day to day life, either. It’s too sad and I’m too empathetic. If my happy tears bother you, I’d hate for you to experience my grievous ones.”
“Enough said,” he grumbles. “I have something that’s been on ice waiting for me to deal with. That needs to be taken care of this afternoon. Do you want me to walk you back to the house, or do you want to go to the clubhouse?”
“Our things are supposed to be delivered in the next hour, so I think you should take me home, Rush.”
“I could get a prospect to meet the movers so you don’t have to deal with that,” he offers.
“I wouldn’t mind someone being there with me, but I would like to start unpacking our things so we could settle in. My anxiety would skyrocket if I put it off for another day.”
“Wouldn’t want that happening. I’ll get Serpent or Hazard to come assist you and watch over the movers. I don’t like strange men in my house unsupervised.”
“That’s why you want me at the clubhouse, isn’t it, Rush? Because there’ll be strange men there.”
“Yes,” he admits. “I don’t trust strangers around you without some sort of backup there to make sure they keep their mind on the job and not on you.”
“It would make me feel more comfortable with things if your men were there. Okay, ply me with muscle, biker man. They can do all the heavy lifting.” He winds his arm around my shoulder and tucks me into his side. I don’t need to hear those words of love and commitment, I can feel them.
