Page 43 of Driving Whiskey Wild
Sunday was going to fucking suck.
Chapter Seventeen
SUNDAY BLEW IN with a sudden drop in temperature and fierce wind. Finlay had lived in Boston for so long, she’d forgotten how Maryland could be hot as Hades one day and sweater weather the next. As much as she was looking forward to catering the baby shower, she really wanted to curl up on the couch with Bullet, shut out the rest of the world, and disappear into him for an entire day. Since that wasn’t an option, she hung up her raincoat, slipped one of her aprons over her long-sleeved gray-and-white minidress, and began unpacking the groceries as Bullet carried them into the kitchen of Whiskey Bro’s. His family hadn’t arrived yet, and she hoped to get most of her baking done before their family meeting.
Bullet was supposed to go on a ride with his brothers afterward. She had a feeling he needed it, because he’d been a little edgier than normal this week, waking earlier and irritated about work. The only time he seemed completely at peace was in the mornings. He didn’t leave for work until eleven, which gave them several uninterrupted hours together. When he came home at night, once she was in his arms, their worlds came back together like a long-overdue sigh, draining the tension from his body and settling all the longing that had built up inside her all day.
“Will you still go on your ride in this weather?” she asked as she laid out the groceries and supplies. They’d gone down to the Snake Pit yesterday before Bullet had gone to work. As Chicki had promised, they’d gotten a tour of the kitchen, which was three times the size of Whiskey’s, and she’d talked with the chef about their menus. By the time they left, several guys had asked when he was going to ride with them again, and he’d been vague with his answers.
“If it clears up.” Bullet shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it on a chair. His tattoos bled out from under the sleeves of his faded black T-shirt. He pushed a hand through his thick hair and shook off the rainwater. A chain hung from his belt loop to his back pocket, making it almost look as if he’d accessorized with his silver rings.
The thought of her man accessorizing gave Finlay a tickle. Bullet’s wardrobe consisted of dark jeans, faded T-shirts, and a host of leather bracelets and wrist cuffs. He always wore two or three skull or hammered metal rings, but she knew it had nothing to do with aesthetics. She was sure they all had meanings behind them, because one thing she’d learned about Bullet was that everything he added to his body was done purposefully.
He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He was always doing that, touching, kissing, wanting more of her. And oh, how she always wanted to touch him, too!
“You said this baby shower will go on until two or three? If I ride, I’ll make sure I’m back by then.”
“Don’t cut your ride short. You don’t need to rework your life around me. I’ll be available when you get back. Just enjoy yourself, and your brothers.” She turned in his arms, and the fluttery sensation in her stomach she’d come to expect when they were close climbed into her chest. She reveled in that feeling.
“I’ve enjoyed myself and my brothers for thirty-plus years.” He lowered his lips to hers, taking her in a delicious kiss that brought her up on her toes. He rubbed his beard along her cheek and said, “I love when you do that.”
“Get hot and bothered?” she teased.
“Go up on your toes, like you can’t get enough of me.”
She’d never needed anyone before, but the closer she and Bullet became, the more she realized she’d needed him all along. She’d buried herself so deeply in work for the past several years, she hadn’t realized how much emptiness she’d been harboring. Bullet, and even Tinkerbell, completed her in ways no one and nothing ever had. Whether they were taking walks or Bullet was working on one of his bikes in the garage while she sat nearby preparing menus and kitchen schedules, or if they were lying in each other’s arms beneath the stars, which she didn’t think they’d be able to do too much longer, as fall was moving in, the three of them were together, and they were happy.
We’re putting down roots.
“I will never get enough of you.” She pulled him down for another kiss.
A little more than an hour later, Dixie came in through the back door, her fiery hair whipping around her face from the wind. Finlay looked over her shoulder as she put the wild king salmon, salads, seared spinach, and coriander yogurt sauce in the fridge.
“Wow. I half expected the Wicked Witch of the West to blow in.” Dixie peeled off her jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. “It’s so windy out there. I think we should have indoor options for the fundraiser, just in case.”
“I was hoping it would die down,” Finlay said as she began decorating the frosted sugar-cookie pizza with slices of strawberries and kiwis.
Dixie eyed the pink and blue cupcakes in a catering box on the counter and the Oreo-rattle pops and peanut-shaped tarts cooling on racks by the sink where Bullet was peeling hard-boiled eggs. She put a hand on Bullet’s shoulder and said, “You’re so domestic, I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Finlay bribed me with sex.” He winked at Finlay.
“I did not!” She felt her cheeks burning. After Bullet had set her on the counter and tried to eat her for brunch, she’d promised to blow his whistle later if he let her get her cooking done. She couldn’t very well attend the event reeking of sex. Even though she’d learned her lesson when Bullet went with her anywhere and always carried extra panties. Sometimes that was enough, but when he devoured her, she got so hot and bothered, she needed a full-on shower afterward—a cold one, or the aftershocks alone nearly made her come again.
The doors to the bar opened, and Bones strutted in wearing his black leather jacket, a bike helmet in his hand, and the rest of his family on his heels. “Damn, it’s nasty out there. But it sure smells good in here.”
Bones set his helmet down and put his arm around Finlay as she prepared the frosting for the baby bundles, the peanut-shaped tarts she’d decorate to look like swaddled babies. Half the finished cookies would be blue, and half pink, with chocolate chips for eyes.
“What’ve you done with my brother? Soon he’ll be wearing a dress and an apron.”
Bullet scowled.
Finlay whispered, “I bribed him with sex.”
Bones pushed Bullet away from the sink. “Give me the damn eggs.”
Bullet grabbed him by the back of his collar and hauled him away from the sink with a look so dark Finlay feared she’d caused real trouble.
Bones threw his arms up in the air and laughed. “I’m kidding, bro.” He shoved Bullet’s shoulder so hard Bullet released him, still glowering.
“Bones has a death wish.” Bear sank down to a chair at the table.
Dixie laughed as she headed toward the door to the bar. “I’m going to get the ledgers from the office. Be right back.”
Red sidled up to Finlay and said, “There are three things you don’t kid about in our world. Women, bikes, and family.”
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Finlay said. “It was a joke.”
“You didn’t cause trouble, honey,” Red assured her. “Bones did. He knows Bullet’s been acting like he’s got a gorilla on his back lately.”
Finlay made a mental note not to step out of her comfort zone and tease like that again. She was surprised Red had noticed Bullet’s edginess, and she wondered if she had any clue as to what was behind it. Finlay had tried asking Bullet, but he’d brushed her off each time, changing the subject.
Biggs sat beside Bear and pointed his cane at Bones. “Cut the shit. One day Bullet’s going to let loose on you and you’re going to be sorry.”
Guilt speared through Finlay. She knew Bullet and Bones had a special connection, and she’d hate to mess that up.
Bullet’s lips tipped up and he held a fist out to Bones, who tapped it with his own.
Relief swept through her. She moved a tray of cookies to the counter, distracting herself by spreading pink frosting over the lower half of each cookie and creating tiny pink bows at the top, making the baby bundles.
Bullet wiped his hands on a towel. “Sorry, man,” he said to Bones.
“No worries.” Bones leaned against the counter. “The weather’s supposed to clear up by noon. You coming with us?”
Bullet nodded. “For a few hours.”
Dixie returned with the ledgers, and Bear said, “Let’s get this show on the road. Dix?”
An uneasy look passed over Dixie’s face. She crossed her arms, uncrossed them, then crossed them again. Finlay waited for an explanation, as Dixie had nixed every candidate she’d interviewed for the cook positions, having found something off about each applicant.
“We haven’t filled the positions yet,” Dixie explained. “Fin spent all last week interviewing, and the applicants are all qualified. But they just didn’t feel right. I’m not sure about hiring a stranger.”
“You’re the one who wanted this,” Bullet reminded her.
The gruffness of Bullet’s comment rattled Finlay. She’d almost forgotten he hadn’t wanted her to work there in the first place, much less to expand the bar.
