“Cute.”

“Better than the other option.”

“Oh, what was that?”

Heat infused her cheeks. “Harpy.”

Feather threw her hair back and laughed. She was beautiful with olive skin, high cheekbones, full lips, and dark black hair threaded with gray and pulled back into a braid that crept down her back. She was biker royalty in a pair of formfitting dark wash denim with white crosses stitched on the back and a scoop neck black T-shirt that flattered her collarbone and hinted at cleavage. It was tasteful and flattering. She had to be in her mid-fifties, judging by her sons’ ages, but she could’ve easily passed for a woman in her forties. “I think you and I will get along just fine. I can’t stand those giggly girls who take too long to answer my questions and don’t have a domestic bone in their bodies. I’ll leave them for the men to be amused by.”

Her jaw dropped. Hearing the woman speak so plainly about the way the club worked threw her off.

Feather laughed. “Oh honey, you must be new.”

Ariel nodded her head.

“Just between us girls. Not my man.” She winked and spun on her heel. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do, and they’ll be coming in here starved before we know it.”

Ariel followed Feather into the kitchen and admired the stainless steel appliances, massive fridge, freezer, and butcher block counter tops. A large island lined with chairs rested in the middle of the room.

“They really went all out with this new kitchen. I approve. I remember trying to make magic on that ratty old thing from the eighties in the old club before it died a well-deserved death,” Feather said.

Ariel chuckled. She liked Feather. She had a good sense of humor and a warmth not all of the old ladies showed the lower-ranking woman.

“Can you cook, Ariel?”

“I can. What are we making?”

“I figure we’ll do barbecue fare. We’ll get the patties out and thawing, marinate some chicken, make potato salad, baked beans and a regular salad for those who don’t eat meat. I figure getting the boys grilling and everyone outside would be a good way to take their minds off things. We came in at a tense time. A blind man can sense that. It’s up to us to lighten the mood and make them forget their troubles, if only for a few minutes.”

“I make a mean potato salad if you want me to get started on that,” Ariel offered.

“Perfect, I’ll pull the patties out and start making the marinade from scratch.”

“Good. I’ll start gathering materials,” Ariel said, happy to have a plan mapped out. She hunted down the right tool, set herself up on a stretch of counter space, and moved to wash her hands.

“I have to confess, I was surprised to see you with my Hawk,” Feather said ten minutes into the prep process.

“Oh,” Ariel said.

“He’s not the type to take on the responsibility of a house mouse.”

“The president asked him to.”

“Honey, you realize I wasn’t born yesterday, right? Whatever you are, a house mouse isn’t it. Not with the way he looks and acts around you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Girl, don’t play dumb; it doesn’t become you. You’ve managed to penetrate my boy’s titanium shell. That’s impressive.”

Ariel continued to peel the potatoes, unsure how to approach the awkward situation she found herself in. “We’re friends. He is doing a favor for Tiny. We get along because we’ve come to an understanding.”

“Do you really believe that?” Feather said.

“Yes.”

“Then you’re both clueless.” Feather clucked her tongue.

“I’m not sure what you want from me, Feather,” Ariel said as her nerves were plucked like a guitar string.


Tags: Shyla Colt Lords of Mayhem Romance