We both go and tuck ourselves under an arm each, allowing him to wrap us in his own brand of amazing hug.
After a few minutes, the music starts up out back and we know Church is over.
“C’mon. We have a life to celebrate.” Spenny gives me a little squeeze and kisses the top of Mac’s head.
She nods.
“Go ahead, I’ll grab the cupcakes.”
Holding Mac’s hand, Spenny gives me a sad wink before leaving the room.
I sigh and take in the cupcakes. So much love and care has gone into these, each one delicately piped with his name.
The perk to not being loved the way this club cares is that the pain when someone dies is like a needle prick.
I’ve only known Ninja, barely, for four months and I can’t help my own tears.
Sighing, I pick up the tray of cupcakes and head downstairs to go out back, where they set the barbecue up for today’s shenanigans. There’s a space for the tray on the long table set out with paper plates, napkins, and a couple of ice buckets full of beer.
“Did you make those?” Grinder sidles up behind me, his palms caressing my hips and stomach as he rests his head on my shoulder. “Because I love you, and I’m willing to die for you, but death by cupcake isn’t the way I thought I’d go.” He nuzzles into my neck and bites down, sending a thrill shooting from the tips of my toes to every erogenous zone I have.
“Ha ha.” We figured out that baking isn’t my forte when I severely overcooked, then undercooked, my first, second, andonly batches a few weeks ago. “We decided I’d leave the baking to Mac.” Gripping his hands against my stomach, I squeeze before bringing them up to my mouth and kissing his tattooed fingers.
“Shots!”
Everyone stops and turns toward the grill, where Bear is standing with Athena tucked beneath his arm. Psycho and Mac are beside him, tiny glasses in hand, and Bear is holding up a large bottle of amber liquid. I think that’s the loudest I’ve ever heard that man speak…well, shout.
“Well fuck me upside down. There’s a first time for everything. Teddy Bear calling for shots” Grinder lowers his voice and speaks into my ear. “We can try that upside down thing with the swing later.”
A mass of bodies all crowd toward Bear with shot glasses and he pours each one. Obviously, Grinder and I do the same thing. Mac’s eyes are still red-rimmed, but Psycho seems to be holding himself together. I doubt that’s the case behind closed doors.
When we got the news yesterday that Ninja had passed, Grinder clung to me and Spencer for hours. Literally. He was mostly silent as we watched a few films, and his fingers squeezed tighter than usual. Like he was making sure we weren’t going anywhere without him.
Ninja was Psycho’s personal pet, even though he was a club staple, so I know it must have hit him hard. The other rattie, Bandit, is currently in the hood of his jacket, munching on a carrot stick that I have no doubt is from Bear.
Stepping back, my hand in Grinder’s, I look around for Spenny because he was with Mac…ah, there he is. Joining us, sliding his spare hand around Grinder’s back, he holds up his glass along with the rest of the club.
“To Ninja.” Psycho leads the charge, holding his glass high.
Everyone follows suit, with a loud, “To Ninja!” ringing out across the back yard space.
Shots are thrown back before the music is turned up, yells are shouted out, and burgers are flipped.
“Where did you go?” I face Spenny and give him judgey eyes. For no other reason than because I know it amuses him.
“I left something in our suite.” He grins like he’s keeping a secret.
“What?” Grinder is just as inquisitive as me.
“Would you drop it if I said wait until later?” Spenny knows the answer to that question. Silly man.
“No.”
“Nope.”
Grinder and I answer at the same time and Spencer chuckles.
“You can’t go dangling balls and expect them to go unplayed with. Now spill.” I push my fist onto my hip and glare expectantly.