Page 97 of Ridin’ Dirty

I opened my eyes then, unable to hear it in his voice if he was serious or not. When I found him smiling at me, I realized that still didn’t answer the question—and that somehow made our exchange even better.

“Do we still have beer in the fridge?” I asked as I stood. “I’ll check.”

On my way to the kitchen, I pulled up the ongoing text thread I shared with Max and was quick to type out a message.

Thanks

No sooner did I confirm we did have a couple beers left in the fridge than my phone pinged with her reply.

Have fun!

Four Days Later

It was nearly ten-thirty on a Thursday night when I walked out of the diner. Aware Pistol would still be on patrol until midnight, I already made plans to wait for him at the clubhouse rather than go straight home. After almost two weeks of giving us a chance, we’d fallen into a routine of sorts. We weren’t exactly domesticated, and club drama had everyone on edge, but we were communicating. We were learning.

We were becoming less and less like strangers and more and more like the husband and wife we were.

As ever, when I arrived on the compound, mine wasn’t the only car parked in the lot. I spotted Sofia’s SUV and smiled to myself, glad to know she chose to wait for her man at the clubhouse, too.

Like it was discussed at the meeting I attended with Pistol before our first date, the Stallions were on patrol around the clock, working in pairs. Fury and Pistol were on duty three nights a week, five to midnight. While the Copper Kings had yet to escalate matters, they were still encroaching into Stallion territory attempting to sell sex and drugs.

I tried to take comfort in the fact that things had yet to get violent. It seemed too soon to assume Pistol was in the clear regarding the dead King, but with every passing day, it was hard not to grow in confidence that what he boasted was true. He cleaned up his mess well. Even the cops were forced to keep their distance, with no substantial evidence available to allow them to do more than ask questions regarding their recent missing persons case.

It would have been a lie to say my hope wasn’t clinging to the possibility I’d married a man who knew how to get away with murder.

While circumstances were far from peaceful, I was beginning to feel like I was in the right place at the right time; like the life I was chasing in Gillette was a shoe I was trying to make fit when all along I was destined for something else. Something greater. I had a purpose right here at home—and in fulfilling it, my chance at happiness was very real.

Upon entering the clubhouse, I paused to get the lay of the land. The place was far from empty, but the vibe was more laid back than rowdy. Recently, I could sense there was a level of comfort and security on the compound we all craved. Many of the ranked members were scattered about the room, playing pool or poker with a drink nearby. I noticed Sofia at the bar with Hazel and Viv. Viv caught my eye and waved a hand, signaling me over to join them.

“Hey there, honey. You drinkin’ tonight?” asked Sofia as I took the empty bar stool next to hers.

I glanced at the counter and noticed both Viv and Sofia had a bottle of beer in front of them while Hazel had something in a cup I guessed was a bit stronger. With a little more than an hour to kill, I looked behind the bar and saw Tex coming toward us. The ever-so-diligent probie pointed to my empty hands and I smiled.

“I’ll have a beer, thanks.”

He turned for the fridge the same time Viv asked, “Did you come straight from work?”

“Yeah. Figured I could wait on Pistol here.”

Sofia flashed a mischievous grin just as Tex put an uncapped bottle of beer in front of me.

“What?” I murmured, reaching for my drink. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Things between you two are evolvin’. We haven’t had an update in a couple weeks, but you seem happier.”

“Oh. Yeah,” I replied, unable to keep the smile off my face. “We’re getting used to each other.”

“Mmhmm,” hummed Vivienne. “I think it’s more than that.”

I brought the bottle of beer to my lips and let the cold drink glide over my tongue. As my mind flooded with recent memories, all of which made me deliriously happy, I tried not to blush, willing the beer to keep me cool and collected.

What I told them was true. Pistol and I were getting used to each other, and it was way more fun than I thought it could be.

I brought to mind Saturday afternoon. I was at work when the furniture truck arrived with the bedroom set. Pistol called me twice before I understood he wasn’t going to stop, and I needed to take five. I accepted his third call from Viv’s office.

‘Nothing too major. Your words, not mine,’ he’d grumbled, unmistakably annoyed.

More than worried over his tone, I was disappointed I would have to wait for the end of my shift to get home and see how everything looked. Our new duvet set had arrived, but I’d stowed it all away in the guest room, waiting for the perfect moment to unpack it and complete the design.