Well, that confirmed it.
“Hey,” Reap said with a smile. “I almost forgot. Welcome to the family.”
“Oh, shit, yeah!” Boxer said, a huge grin across his face. “Though, I gotta say, babe, kinda wish you’d given me a chance.”
I chuckled. “Something tells me you aren’t quite ready to settle down.”
His hands went to his chest like I’d wounded him and then he flashed a devilish grin. “Too many great ladies, not enough time.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I felt my heart lift. I didn’t know if Boxer was trying to cheer me up by being utterly ridiculous, but it was working.
“Should we drink some bourbon and toast Colt’s good fortune in locking my ass down?”
The guys roared with laughter. Boxer waved to the empty recliner, gesturing for me to take a seat while he and Reap grabbed the bottle of bourbon on the kitchen counter and four shot glasses.
Reap poured out the shots. “To Mia—the only one willing to put up with Colt’s grumpy ass.”
“Here, here,” Boxer shouted.
We threw back the liquor like champs. Reap served another round and we downed those too.
“Let’s cool it for a second,” Cheese said. “She can’t drink like we can drink.”
“Says who?” I demanded. “I used to be a bartender, you know. I candrink.”
“I’m sure,” Cheese said. “But we’re twice your size. I don’t think Prez will appreciate having to hold your hair back for you when he gets home. Especially not after the shit that just went down.”
“Hmm. You make a good point.” The two shots of bourbon were already doing the trick. A pleasant numbness was settling into my bones and somehow, my worries about the Iron Horsemen were melting away. That was the danger of booze. It lulled you into a false sense of security and in the morning you woke up hungover, miserable, and all your problems were still there.
“Am I allowed to ask? How you guys got into the Blue Angels?” I looked at Reap and Boxer who were lazing back against the couch.
“My old man and Colt’s old man were friends,” Reap said with a shrug.
“From Scotland?” I asked.
He raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise. “No. They met when Jimmy came to Waco. My dad loved old bikes. They met at a trade show. Charlie’s Motorcycle Repair? That belonged to my old man. Colt bought it when Pops retired.”
“Why didn’t you buy it?” I asked in surprise.
“Didn’t want the responsibility. Love the work, but also love not having to deal with all the shit that comes from owning the shop, you know?”
“Sure,” I said, my head reeling. Why didn’t Colt tell me he owned the garage?
Well, that’s what I got for jumping into a relationship with a man I hardly knew.
“And you, Boxer?”
He rubbed a thumb across his chin and looked abashed.
“Tell her,” Reap said, his grin wide with amusement.
“Joni. We were in the same class in high school. I was a little shit back then.”
“Now you’re just a big shit,” Cheese voiced.
“Damn right,” Boxer agreed. “Anyway. She was a major bookworm. Quiet. I liked to tease her. Not like harassment or anything. One day, we were in the hallway and I was ragging on her. She dropped her books and then took me down. I was flat on my back and this girl was on top of me, whispering in my ear that her brother could do more damage.
“After we both got out of detention,” he smiled, “I walked out of school with her. Colt was waiting with his bike, looking like a bad ass. I asked to become a prospect. He said no. I bugged the ever-loving shit out of him for a year. The day we graduated high school, Colt finally said if I was still interested to come to the clubhouse.”