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“Fine, but if I’m going, you better be there.” I get off the barstool, realizing it’s getting late in the day, and if I want to get home to change, I’ll need to leave soon.

“Oh, I’m definitely going.” Lavender stands up, knowing I’m about to leave.

“Good, I’ll see you later.” We hug, and then I’m off, locking the bottom latch on her door before shutting it, mentally tackling just what will knock Jackson’s socks off and how I’ll reap the rewards after he’s been drinking. Tonight is going to be a great night.

CHAPTER 2

ROCKET

“Proud of you, son.” My dad pulls me in for a hug, smacking my back. Fucker knows what he’s doing, especially after I sat in a tattoo chair for six damn hours. My whole back is covered with the insignia of the club in all shades of black, and when Dad slaps me, it jars it.

“Thanks, old man. Ready to retire yet?”

“Nope, keep dreamin’. You may think I’m old, but your mother doesn’t.” The shit-eating grin on his face has me shutting my mouth real quick.

“You can keep that to yourself, Dad,” I reply.

“Yeah, kind of like Sailor, huh? It took you long enough to recruit. Don’t take that long when it comes to her, or she’ll be long gone, kiddo.” Fuck, he acts like I don’t want anything to do with Sailor. That shit couldn’t be further from the truth. There’s no way that wild child of a woman is settling down, not anytime soon at least. And believe me, I’ve tried to bring it up to her more than once. It’s why we’ve settled into this weird complacency.

“Don’t start. Let’s have a drink before the women get here and drink all the good shit.” The minute Aunt Raven makes an appearance along with my mom, we’re all fucked about getting ahold of the whiskey.

“At least I taught you something’.” Dad and I walk toward the bar. Cigarette smoke is thick in the air. All the brothers are in the building, some shooting pool, some drinking, some lazing around. One thing is clear, though: everyone is here for a good time.

“Brother.” Hawk slides a shot glass my way.

“Brother.” He recruited before the ink was dry on his high school diploma, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. I fucking hemmed and hawed, unsure if I was ready to set roots or be wild and free. The club is a part of me, deeply rooted. Part of me wanted to stay; another part was contemplating joining the Army, doing something for my country, making it count. Until I talked to Bullet. He spent many years as a cop and gave me insight, even met up with a couple of his buddies who served. Let’s just say, I made up my mind pretty quickly that it wasn’t for me. I’m more of a turning wrenches kind of guy. That’s when I became a prospect, doing shit jobs around the club, watching Ol’ Ladies when the club was on alert. Even did a stint in county jail to cover up for the club when we had to run some guns. Thankfully, the club has a judge on its side. Shovel did his due diligence, and I was only inside for two weeks. I remember getting out, and Mom didn’t know whether to be happy I was home or to hit me upside the head. Needless to say, she hugged me, then yelled at not only me but Dad, too.

“Hawk.” We clink glasses, toss the shot back without needing a chaser. The shit we’d get and the shit we’d give one another, yeah, that isn’t happening.

“Glad you’re finally patched in,” Hawk replies, filling our shot glasses again.

“Appreciate you.” I nod my head. Bullet and Hawk were the ones who helped me get straightened out.

“Yep, leavin’ to go get Ender.” I nod, circling around the bar to grab a beer from the fridge.

“Later.”

“Don’t worry. In case you were wonderin’, Ender invited Sailor.” It’s like a goddamn matchmaking site around here.

“Already know.” I pull out my phone like it’s a foreign object during this century.

“Message received.” Hawk backs away, retreating, and I shake my head, not understanding since when the brothers wanted to become so involved in each other’s love life. I take a few sips of my beer, needing to decompress after getting my cut, road name, tattoo. Add the shots and now a beer, I’m ready to crash for an hour. The way parties go around this place, it’ll be happenin’ all fuckin’ night, and if I know Sailor, we’ll be wearing each other out until the early morning hours.

CHAPTER 3

SAILOR

It took me longer to get ready then I planned. And I can’t even blame it on finding the right outfit to knock Jackson off his feet. Nope, that would be me looking in the mirror and seeing my long blonde hair tipped pink at the ends. Only today, those tips were looking haggard, so bad that they were more of a light pink on the verge of an orangish color. Did I mention that if I hadn’t gone to college, I would have gone to cosmetology school? The only reason I didn’t was because living in a small town in Wyoming, where would I work? The small Curl and Comb, working on perms my whole life? It was a no-brainer to switch gears, never realizing that I’d actually leave my home state and spread my wings. I guess what they say is true—you’re not always the same person you were years ago, which is definitely the case for me.


Tags: Tory Baker Diamondback MC Second Generation Romance