“Looks like you have your hands full. Want help?”
The voice comes from behind me as I walk toward the kitchen and I don’t recognize who it’s coming from. It’s female, and British…I’m guessing the clubhouse has a new hangaround, otherwise she wouldn’t be here unaccompanied. Turning a little, I see the woman sauntering toward me with a swagger that is not reminiscent of the other hangarounds here.
The way she’s dressed makes me second guess why she’s here too. Pastel-purple sweats cover up every inch of her, not a scrap of ass or cleavage in sight.
“You could grab one of these bags?” The weight from the bottles of craft beer—that Mac insisted the club doesn’t already have in stock—is digging into my wrists and beginning to cut off circulation, so the help is welcome.
“Sure.” Something about the fiery new red-head looks familiar, but all the hangarounds bleed into each other here, so what do I know? “What’s under the aluminum foil?” She works the bags from my wrists without moving the large tray.
“Spotted dick.” I’m not telling her what it’s for, though. I don’t know this person and the reason is classified information. If Mac got wind that I spilled, she’d disown me for at least a week.
The woman’s face brightens, her large blue-green eyes widening and her mouth opening to form anO. “Are you telling me spotted dick is a thing here? Please tell me you have a shit ton of custard to go with it and that you plan on sharing?”
I can’t tell her that it’s for everyone or why, so instead, I shrug and start heading toward the kitchen so I can finally put this damn cake down.
“Guess I’m following you then.” The gentle patter of her sneakers on the hardwood floor trails after me. “Are you one of the people they call a prospect? Is that why you’re not wearing a cut?” She puts the bags on the center island and heaves herself up to sit beside them, grabbing one of the bottles and holding it up. “Am I good to have one of these, please?”
“You’re a curious cat, aren’t you?” I chuckle as she nods, seemingly well aware of her own self and completely unafraid of what I think of her. She’ll fit in well here, if she’s sticking around. Maybe more so with the old ladies than the women the brothers call Khunts. “You can have the beer.” I turn to grab a bottle opener from one of the many drawers in this huge kitchen. “Here—what are you doing?”
The top of the bottle is in her mouth, between her teeth, her big eyes feigning innocence as she pops the lid off and smiles.
“You’ll break your teeth if you do that too often.” Shaking my head, I pour myself a coffee from the pot that Sabrina manages to always keep full and hot.
“Did I hear that beautiful mouth talking about breaking teeth?” And enter Grinder.
He stops dead in the entrance, the sound of anooffrom Boner coming from behind him.
“What the fuck, man? Why’d you stop?” Boner walks around him and straight for the refrigerator.
“How could I not with my two favorite people in the same room?” Grinder bites his bottom lip, his eyes focusing on me, then the new girl, and back again, like he can’t decide who he wants to ogle first. Because that’s what it is. Ogling. He undresses each of us with his lust-filled ice-blue eyes, and as much as I want to love the attention, I can’t. He probably has another ten people waiting in the bar room that he wants to set up a fuck train with, and I am not about to be his first course of many.
“Is he trying to fuck you too?” The woman whispers loudly in my direction with a knowing grin. She isn’t trying to be conspicuous, more like making a point to Grinder that she sees him.
“Yup.” I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m pretty sure I like her. The fact that she clearly hasn’t been swayed by him yet puts her high in my book. He’s pretty hard to resist. I would know.
“Cool. So is any of that spotted dick up for grabs yet or is it for a special occasion?” She changes the subject quicker than Mac on one of her ramble sessions.
“My dick’s up for grabs, but it definitely isn’t spotted.” Grinder takes two of the bottles out of the bag beside the new girl, then swipes the bottle opener I was still holding. He passes one to Boner, who still has his head in the refrigerator and takes it without looking.
“Mac’s gonna kick both of your asses if you touch the food before…” Nope, I’m stopping right there. It’s still a secret.
“Before Sledge’s surprise birthday party?” Boner’s mumble is almost too quiet to know if I heard him right.
“How the fuck do you know?” Grinder looks affronted when Boner finally surfaces again, his mouth now full of cheesechunks. Yeah, his ass is getting fried because I know for a fact those are for the party.
“Mac told me at the race last night. How the fuck doyouknow? She told me it was a secret.”
“Mac told mebeforethe race.” Grinder’s smug grin shouldn’t be so damn hot, but alas, it is.
“I’m just gonna butt in here, who’s Sledge? Is that like his road name thing? And his birthday is today?” The woman downs her beer before slamming it down and swinging her legs, her palms now cupping the edge of the counter. “Ooh, is the spotted dick his birthday cake? Is it his favorite?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?” I lean back against the cupboards behind me, cupping my mug of coffee in my hands.
The way she looks at me with a tight, awkward face, like a toddler that’s just been caught eating too much chocolate, makes me laugh and almost forget how close Grinder is standing to me now.
“Pah-kah, here, seems to have a lot of questions and no answers.” He leans in and sniffs my neck. I should move or shove him away, but the way my heart thuds makes that impossible. “You smell good today, like freshly baked cookies.”
He stands straight again and I clear my throat. “It’s the birthday cake Mac and I made.”