“Hey!” MacKenzie bounded down the aisle again, wrapping her arms around April’s leg. “Daddy said we can get ice cream because I was good!”
April looked down at her. “Yes, we can get ice cream. Go look at the freezer right there. You can pick whatever one you want.”
“Yay!” She skipped toward the ice cream freezer.
“I’ll let you finish, so I can run after Mac,” April said. “But you’ll come for dinner, right?”
“Um. Sure?” I wasn’t sure.
“Good.” She looked away. “No, Mac, don’t open that freezer! I said you could have one. Not more than that! Ok, see you later, June!”
I paid and drove home, preoccupied the entire time with thoughts of Cade.
And now, Jed. He was an unexpected surprise. A good one?
I should have told April I didn't have time for dinner. I should have made something up. I didn't want to see Cade.
I could still make an excuse. I went back and forth in my mind, should I or shouldn't I, even while showering and afterward, as I was pulling on clothes and applying makeup. While I blow-dried my hair, I thought, I'll just call over and tell them I won't go. No, I can't do that. I don't have Stan's phone number.
Or was that just my excuse?
Then, while I was putting on makeup, I chastised myself. You don't need to fix yourself up for Cade. He's the last person you need to impress. All the same, I applied lipstick and a fresh coat of gloss, then appraised myself in the mirror.
Good jeans, check.
Cute shirt, the purple top that hugged my boobs, check.
Hair, check.
Makeup, check.
Casual, don’t care attitude about Cade? That wasn’t exactly a check.
“Hey, June.” April stood in the doorway, dressed in a tank top and jeans, an apron wrapped around her waist. Her hair spilled out of a ponytail, and she wore a handkerchief wrapped around her head. She looked like a fifties housewife - if a fifties housewife had full sleeve tattoos running up her arms and across her chest. "Hey, come in," she said. "I'm so glad you're here. Do you know how to cook?"
"A little bit," I said. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just trying to make a couple of side dishes Stan asked me to do. But I'm worthless in the kitchen."
"I can help. Where is everyone?"
"Stan took Mac down to the creek for a little bit. She wanted to see the water, and it's a nice break from her, to be honest." She laughed. "Crunch is in the other room, doing something with the computer, I don't know what. All that tech stuff, it's over my head."
And Cade? I nearly asked. No, I didn't care where Cade was. I'd just keep telling myself that.
"Can I ask why they call him Crunch?" I followed April to the kitchen, where she was chopping vegetables. She handed me a knife and a cutting board.
"Here," she said. "This is about the only thing I can do in the kitchen, is chop stuff up. Oh, Crunch's nickname is because he's a numbers guy. He's always done accounting stuff. Number cruncher, you know."
"A biker accountant?" It seemed funny to me.
April slid her knife blade down the length of a cucumber. "Oh, yeah, honey," she said. "Back in the day, Crunch used to do accounting for a couple of businesses. Totally self-taught. Course, those businesses weren't completely on the up and up, you know?"
"Oh, I see."
"And then he made a few bad choices, hacking into places, took money from one of the businesses," she said. "Of course, the guy was a real asshole, deserved to have the money stolen. But Crunch, he got lucky, got picked up on a federal charge before the guy he was working for took him out."
"Oh," I said. I didn't really know what else to say. This wasn't exactly regular dinner conversation.
"So what about Axe, then?" I asked. "You guys called him Axe. What does that mean?"
"Axe is Axe because of who he is. Sniper, you know? Couldn’t exactly call him ‘gun’. He's the Sergeant-at-Arms for the club."
"I don't know what that means." I didn't know what any of this stuff meant, honestly. I'd been around military guys, was used to all that lingo, but I didn't know what any of this meant in the context of a biker club. I mean, I'd been around plenty of guys who rode motorcycles, but none of it was like this.
I was curious, but also afraid to ask many questions. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to know all that stuff about Cade. I was equal parts drawn to it and repulsed by it. Of course, that was true about Cade, too.
"That's right," she said. "I forget when I'm talking to civilians." Civilian. That was a word I wasn't quite used to being called, even after a year out of the military. "Axe is the sergeant-at-arms. He's the President's right hand man, makes sure everything's kosher. He enforces things."
"Enforces," I said. "You mean, enforces when people get out of line?" I didn't want to say kills, but that's the distinct impression I was getting.
She nodded. "He used to be a Marine. Military types make good club members."