She grinned again. “Babe, this is a biker party. It’ll go until everyone is hooked up or passed out. Come whenever.”
I had a feeling their rowdy would be well beyond my rowdy since I’d never really done rowdy. But I also hoped Joker would be there, and in a party mood, so I was going to have an open mind and I was most definitely going to show.
“Do you work every day?”
I turned my head to Joker since he asked the question.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Every day?” he pushed.
“Yes,” I repeated. Then explained, “Mostly. See, my manager, Sharon, is super nice. She tries to schedule me for as many days on as she can when Aaron has Travis, so I can have my days off when I have him so I can save on daycare and I want to spend my time with him. And in return, I take afternoon and evening shifts when Travis is with his dad because people prefer day shifts.”
“So when you don’t have your kid, when do you have a life?” Joker asked, sounding strangely annoyed. Or more annoyed than he already had been.
“My life is Travis,” I answered and something moved over his face that I didn’t like, knowing about what his mom did to him. But I did my best to ignore it since he likely wouldn’t like me to make note of it, especially in company, and kept speaking. “And anyway, it’s only eight and a half hours a day, so it isn’t like I’m always there. Except the overtime,” I mumbled the last bit. “Everyone can use it and Sharon’s fair, but she throws a good amount my way because I need it.”
He stared at me, still looking annoyed, and I stared back, not annoyed even a little bit.
I wasn’t because you didn’t get annoyed for a girl you didn’t like and possibly want to ask out on a date which would end in a kiss (I hoped).
So as he stared at me, I stared back. I also smiled brightly.
His eyes dropped to my mouth and he looked even more annoyed.
My smile got bigger as my belly felt warm.
At that point, the door to the Compound opened and I unfortunately had to look away from annoyed-biker-handsome Joker toward the door.
“Hey, Pete!” Tabby cried to the man lumbering in.
I said nothing.
Instead, I made the instant decision that, if he would look after Travis, I’d let him.
This was not because he had on a beat-up leather vest over a black T-shirt that had been washed so many times it was gray. It was also not because his jeans were faded, too big on him (which was a feat, he was not a small man), and had stains on them, though the jeans were clean. It was further not because he had a very long goatee, stubble on his cheeks, bushy sideburns and a mass of lead-gray hair pulled back in a ponytail at his nape. Lastly, it was not because he had a gut that shouted I love beer!
No, it was because he had kind eyes, a face that lit up when those eyes hit Tabby. The overall look might be scary to some, but to me, he looked like Biker Santa Claus.
“Hey, darlin’, how you doin’?” he called to Tabby.
“I’m good, Pete. This is Carissa.”
Big Petey trudged to me and did it with a grin and beefy hand lifted my way. “Figured you were. Hey, girl.”
I took his hand. Its calloused warmth closed around mine firm but not hard.
Yes, I was going to let him look after my son.
“Hey,” I replied. “Nice to meet you.”
He gave my hand a squeeze before he let it go and leaned into the bar. “Your asshole still got your boy?”
I assumed correctly by the a-word that he meant Aaron. “Uh, yes, until Monday.”
“Bummer, darlin’,” he muttered.
“Agreed,” I muttered back.
He gave me a grin. “Tyra keeps her boys with her in the office a lot but I also got ’em a lot so your li’l bugger’ll have company.”
“Uh… is that too much for you?” I asked.
“I’ll amend,” he declared. “Tyra keeps her boys with her in the office a lot and her old man likes their boys with him a lot, so I have ’em a lot but not a lot so your boy will have company but also he and me’ll have alone time.”
“I think it’s important he socialize,” I told him.
“He’ll get that, seein’ as Ride and Cut’s brother and sister come ’round to see ’em and every brother and their old ladies in this Club ain’t exactly introverts. It’ll be good.”
“It sure sounds like it will,” I agreed.
“Gotta see your kid takes to me and you’re good with how. We’ll set it, you bring him here when you got him again. Me and him’ll have a meet and greet.”
I smiled. “That sounds excellent.”
He smiled back.
“Now about pay—” I started but stopped when he lifted his hand.
“Talk about that later,” he said.
“That later bein’ never,” Tabby muttered behind my back and Big Petey winked at her.
Oh boy.
“No, really, perhaps we should—”
Pete looked to me. “Talk about that later, darlin’,” he said unbendingly but gently and finished on, “Yeah?”
I took him in, thinking about his daughter and Tyra, who didn’t strike me as a woman that would leave her kids with just anyone, and I said, “Yeah.”
That was when his eyes moved around my head and then he turned, leaning further into the bar, saying to Joker, “Like your girl, Joke. Pretty. Sweet. Wild hair means wild side.” He looked back to me. “We bikers like it wild.”
I fought against the pink I felt creeping into my cheeks as Joker said to Pete, “Don’t be an asshole.”
“I think that’s seventy-five cents,” Tabby put in.
Big Petey ignored that and asked Joker, “How’m I bein’ an asshole?”
“You know,” Joker clipped, looked to me, jerked up his chin, ignored everyone else, and prowled along the bar and right out the door.
I thought that was rude.
Looking around, I saw none of my company felt the same way. They all clearly thought it was amusing.
I took heart in that (although I was a little concerned—if bikers liked it wild, that was not me) and announced, “I have to get to work. It was really cool meeting you all.”
“Give me your number,” Tab said. “Maybe you and your little guy and me can go have lunch some time or something.”
I loved that idea!
“Great!” I chirped.