“Why does your sister call you Thief?” I questioned the man at my side.
Haggard looked over from his slouch on the Adirondack chair he’d taken up residence in.
The smile that lit his face made my heart happy.
“When we were little, she gave all of us ‘Crow’ nicknames. They just stuck, I guess.” He shrugged. “She called us all our nicknames so long that it didn’t make sense to just go and come up with road names for the MC, either. I guess we’re just lazy.”
I snickered as I took a sip of my almost empty beer.
“Want another?” he asked. “I have to go to the john.”
My lips twitched at that and I watched him as he walked away after giving him my grunt of ‘yes.’
I was so enraptured with watching him walk away that I didn’t notice the woman sneaking up beside me until I heard her voice.
“Look who the cat dragged in,” Blakely cooed.
I felt my eye twitch.
The one freakin’ day I wouldn’t have to see her, and she shows up at the MC party.
Of. Freakin’. Course.
What were the odds?
Apparently, with the way that she hung off of his every word—which wasn’t very many at that—at dinner last night, and then her subsequent gushing about him at work all day today, the odds were very good.
I didn’t say anything, choosing to finish off my beer instead of talking to her.
“You too good to talk to me?” she challenged. “You think just because you’re his daughter’s best friend, and he felt bad because you were alone, so he stayed with you all night, that he cares about you? Let me tell you something, honey. He doesn’t care about you. He just wants you here being a good little girl and staying out of his business. Which, I’m happy to tell you, is with me. He agreed to a date with me.”
I highly freakin’ doubted that.
He hadn’t looked very happy when I’d explained the way Blakely liked to torment me at work, either.
But, that naïve, he’ll never love you because you’re just a kid part of my brain… well, it didn’t necessarily work off of sound judgment and understanding. It worked off of anger, the assumption that I was too young for him, and the knowledge that we would likely never what I secretly dreamed about.
The times I lived in weren’t fairy tales. I lived in the darker versions of life, and not the light airy ones that Disney movies portrayed.
“I’m trying to enjoy my buzz,” I told her honestly. “And you’re ruining it. I’m not talking to you because I don’t like you, Blakely. And, honestly, if you did get a date with him, there’s a reason he agreed to it. A reason that you likely think is good but is probably bad. Like you have answers to a question he wants answered, and not a pussy he wants to dip his dick into.”
At least, I hoped that was the case.
I viciously shut down the second thoughts, and instead focused on the fact that I had been the one sitting next to him all night, and he hadn’t been shy discussing club business in front of me with three other people during the length of time we’d been sitting there.
“I don’t know why you don’t like me.” Blakely pouted.
And that’s when I saw Haggard walking toward me in a loose swagger, two beers hanging from one hand, big fingers wrapped around the necks, as he spoke with Easton.
I didn’t bother replying to Blakely.
Or hadn’t meant to reply.
But then she started talking more, and I realized what she was doing.
Trying to appear friendly.
“Go the fuck away.” I stood up. “I don’t like you, and you pretending to like me is only painful to watch.”
The fast movement caused the two men to look in our direction.
Haggard frowned. Easton looked at Blakely as if she was a problem he could solve.
“I’ll never…” Blakely flipped her bottle-blonde hair over her shoulder and started walking toward Haggard.
But Haggard veered off to the trash cans to take off the caps of his beers, and then went the long way around to where I was standing, completely avoiding her as beautifully as I’d ever seen it done.
I smiled when Haggard arrived, reaching for the beer.
“It’s nice that you give these to me now instead of me having to sneak them out of your fridge,” I teased.
He rolled his eyes, and I watched as the firelight caught in his baby blues.
“You and my daughter think y’all are so smart.” He rolled his eyes. “You didn’t sneak anything. Do you think I’m unaware of how much beer I have in my fridge at any given time?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I’ll tell you a secret. I know that I have enough in my fridge right now that I’ll have to go to the store tomorrow on the way home, or I’ll run out halfway through the night.” He laughed. “Because, just sayin, but I have paperwork to do tomorrow. And to get through that, I’m gonna need a lot of alcohol.”