Page 27 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

“What’s going on, Marcus? Bike troubles?” He glances at Brandy.

“Yeah, picked up a nail. Just changing the tire.”

“Who’s this?” He tilts his head in Brandy’s direction.

“Brandy, a friend of mine. Brandy, this is Cole, the Evil Dead president.”

Cole reaches his hand out and takes hers. “Nice to meet you darlin’. Hope this one’s treatin’ you well. But I don’t see a drink in your hand,” he admonishes, glancing my way.

“Sorry Brandy, did you want something?” I wipe my hands on a rag.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.”

“How about a coffee?” Cole asks. “You wouldn’t turn that down, would you?”

“I suppose not. Thank you.”

At her reply, Cole looks at me pointedly, arching a brow until I jump to it.

“Oh, yes, sir. Be right back.” I pause. “You want any sugar or cream, honey?”

“No thanks.”

I jog to the clubhouse door not wanting to leave Brandy alone with Cole any longer than needed. Being a prospect, it makes me nervous what conversation they could be having. I make quick work of making a pot, but the coffee seems to stream out slower than ever as I watch it fill up the carafe.

***

Brandy—

“So, how’d you two meet?” Cole asks the minute Marcus is gone.

“He was on a mission for Christmas tree cakes.”

Cole breaks out in a wide grin. He’s an attractive man with his blond beard and hair. He wears a pair of faded jeans and a long sleeve thermal shirt that clings to his muscular chest and arms. Its sleeves are shoved up, revealing inked forearms. His leather vest carries the president patch stitched on the breast. He catches my eyes as they lock on that patch.

“Takes a lot to be in our world, and even more when your man’s a prospect. Prospects are meant to jump anytime a brother says jump. No questions asked. Just makin’ you aware. His number one priority will always be this club.”

I level my eyes at him. I’m not sure if he’s trying to scare me off or if he’s just giving me a chance to back out before I get in too deep. He’s obviously waiting for a reply.

“I see,” is all I give him.

The metal door of the clubhouse bangs open, and the crunching of Marcus’ boots carries across the gravel lot.

I’m happy to see him, and I think he sees the relief in my eyes as he hands out the warm, steaming mugs.

“Here you go.”

The aroma makes me sigh, calming my sudden jitters. I’ve always loved the smell of fresh brewed coffee.

Cole brings his mug to his lips, taking a sip. “Well, I’ve got important things to do.” He turns to me. “Nice to meet you. Hope to see you around.”

As he walks away, Marcus draws my attention to him. “The bike’s all fixed. Wanna go for a ride?” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Sure.”

“Ever been on a bike?”

“Never.”

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