Protect (29 page)

She didn’t smile back, but she caught his
motion and her eyes got wide, like she couldn’t
believe
his
reaction. It almost made him want to laugh.

“Holy shit. Is that Downey?”

He jumped like he’d been caught playing with
himself. “What?” he asked, head going to the opposite side as soon
as Tiny had spoken.

“That’s Sheriff Downey,” Tiny said with a
jerk of his chin. “Jesus. That’s what was under than uniform,
huh?”

A proprietary flare of jealousy had him
sitting up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

Tiny laughed. “You lose your dick overnight?
She’s over there in sex kitten heels and an easy-access skirt and
you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Fritter wanted to punch him, for no fucking
reason. Plus now he was imagining bending her over with that skirt
and those shoes still on. “Yeah, she’s hot,” he agreed, looking
back to where she was making her way across the grass of the treed
clearing they’d disposed of Mickey in. She stopped and turned, and
that’s when he realized Jayce was approaching her.

“Uh oh,” Tiny muttered.

“What?” He looked back to the old fucker, the
oldest current member of the club anyway.

“Nothing,” Tiny muttered, turning the key in
his Dyna Glide and cutting their conversation short.

Jayce couldn’t still be pissed, could he?
Nah. He was likely thanking her for keeping the feds away from
Mickey’s case. Fritter wasn’t worried; he started his bike as well
and waited for his Prez to return to the flock.

As he waited he watched them talking, trying
to gauge their body language. It was difficult. Sharon was good
with the public figure mask, and Jayce’s poker face was
spectacular. When his Prez returned Sharon was already gone.

“Everything okay?” he asked, trying his best
to sound casual.

“What? Oh, yeah. I just wanted to thank her
for keeping the feds out of this with Mickey. Told her to stop by
but I doubt she will.”

Fritter nodded as Jayce’s bike joined the
noisy rumble of the club. Jayce, Tank and Fritter led the way out
of Markham County Park and Campground, the car carrying the women
behind them. The Markham Red Rebels followed, then the Nomad
chapter.

They were a noisy convoy until they hit the
highway, then it was all out riding. Not too warm for the kutte and
long-sleeved shirt. Under any other circumstance it would be the
ideal day for a ride.

The journey ended at the compound with
everyone pulling into their spots, the car parking at the door.
Nomads found spaces on the asphalt that was free. They filed into
the hall and the smell of food was thick in the air. A long table
was set up along one wall, Sterno burners lit underneath metal
serving trays already. Two sweetbutts were ready at the bar, a few
more getting to their feet, ready to be service and cleaning help
for the remainder of the afternoon.

Trinny had just arrived the day before, so
Fritter knew she hadn’t been in on these preparations. Gertie had a
new baby and Jolene was catatonic so it must have been Rose, which
would make sense. She was used to a hen house full of preening
pussy; she’d know how to handle sweetbutts.

Watching her now as she walked along the
buffet, stopped a girl in teetering heels and tight jeans and asked
her for something, his suspicions were confirmed. She’d taken over
the strip club in Trinny’s absence, and now she was the queen of
the clubhouse, too. He tried to see if Trinny was noticing any of
this, but she was taking Davie from Gertie’s grasp and cooing at
him in perfect baby voice.

No surprise when Jolene headed right to the
bar.

He snagged a beer for himself, then eyed up
the room. Buck was with the women, hovering over his son in a
protective manner that wasn’t a surprise to anyone. Jayce had found
Libby and Junior. They’d stayed behind with the sweetbutts during
the ceremony, and they were anxious to catch up with their Dad.

Tiny and the Nomad Prez, Guido, were starting
a game of pool. Guido’s crew always fit in here, so they made
themselves at home catching up with Tims, Rusty, Red, the rest of
the Markham chapter. And next to him Knuckles was talking to Jolene
in a low, even tone.

One sweetbutt was loading up a tray with JD
shots, which was a good idea. Couple shots then everyone would be
ready to eat. He accepted one, tossed it back and put the glass
upside down on her tray before she could move on. Jolene grabbed
one, then the sweetbutt moved on to Tank and Rose, who had wrapped
themselves up in each other. Tank was holding his woman tight, hand
on the back of her head. Her face was in the side of his neck, and
Tank was talking to her.

Fritter was aching for someone to hold
onto.

Tank took a shot of JD, and Rose waved the
sweetbutt off with a gracious smile. Tank gave her another squeeze
and Fritter was confusing himself with thoughts of cozy
relationship shit when Jolene ... well, lost her fucking mind.

“What the fuck is that?” Jolene was
screeching, heading off to Rose and Tank. It was the first time
anyone had heard her say a word all day, so the whole room fell
quiet.

Rose’s eyes got wide. “What? What’s
wrong?”

“Why aren’t you having any Jack Daniels with
us? My husband
died
, you bitch. Are you too good to remember
him with us?”

Rose’s eyes got wider, then a bit wet. Tank
moved her behind his bulk, facing off with Jolene but speaking
gently. “Jolene, you need to tone it down a little bit. I gotta lot
of love for you and things are tough, but you take that tone again
with my old lady I’m gonna have a problem with you.”

“Knuckles won’t drink, and I know why. Gertie
won’t either. But what’s Rose’s excuse?” Jolene snapped, as though
she hadn’t even heard him.

“Dad, why’s Aunt Jolene so mad?” Jayce Junior
whispered it, but in that kid way that half the room likely heard.
Jolene didn’t, thank fuck.

“Back off, Jolene.” Tank’s tone was decidedly
unhappy, and Fritter was setting his beer down but Knuckles got to
Jolene first.

“I think you need to lay down for a while,
Jolene. The sun’s getting to you.” Knuckles took her arm and she
wrenched away from him violently.

“Fuck you, fuck everyone. Rose is an adult,
old lady in this club. Let her explain why my husband dying isn’t a
good enough reason to toast his memory like everyone else.”

Tank’s face was like a thunder cloud, and
Fritter wondered at Jolene’s medically-induce backbone keeping her
upright and in Tank’s grill like this. Fritter took her other arm,
but damn she was stubborn.

“Tell me. Why the
fuck
isn’t she
drinking?”

Fritter desperately searched Tank and Rose’s
faces, but there was no help there. He looked to Gertie, and Trinny
was already heading their way. Gertie was holding Davie, wisely out
of the way.

“Jolene, you’re going to say something you
regret,” Trinny whispered low, standing in front of her friend.
“Let’s go to a room and talk, okay? If you need to sleep you can
sleep after that.”

“Don’t talk to me like you give a shit. You
took off and left. Remember?”

Trinny winced like she’d been hit. In a move
so sudden it surprised him, and probably Knuckles, Jolene backed
off and stalked back to the bar, grabbing the JD bottle. “Swear to
Christ, Rose. You’re drinking to my old man if I have to hold you
down and pour it down your goddamn throat.” She was walking back
their way, her face ugly in its anger. “Unless you can tell me
what’s more important.”

“I’m pregnant.”

It was whispered, thick with emotion, but the
room had grown so silent everyone heard. Fritter had been ready to
grab the bottle from Jolene so he saw her stop like she’d been
socked in the gut.

“Is that good enough, Jolene? I’m pregnant.
Now you know.”

Stunned, Fritter turned to Tank. He still
looked furious, but he was holding his wife to his chest again and
she was crying.

Fuck. What the fuck was happening here?

“Congratulations.” It was spat out, and with
that Mickey’s widow left the clubhouse, the light flooding through
the door momentarily before closing. Knuckles went after her.

“We just found out the day before Mickey,”
Tank said, the room still quiet enough to hear him even though he
sounded like he was fighting to keep calm. “We were waiting an
appropriate amount of time before telling anyone. Seems wrong to
celebrate when we just said goodbye to a brother.”

Fritter held a hand out and Tank clasped it
in his huge paw. “Congrats, man,” he said, still sounding stunned.
“That’s great news.”

Tank nodded, then released his hand and
hugged Rose tighter.

Rose was still crying. Fritter understood why
she was so upset now. There had been a party and much revelry when
they’d found out Buck and Gertie had a bun in the oven. Rose and
Tank would have a wake to remember as the formal announcement of
their child.

Fritter patted Rose’s shoulder awkwardly then
headed back for his beer. Jesus, what a mess.

“Okay everyone,” Trinny called out, clapping
her hands together. “We’ve had sad events but we also heard good
news. Rose has arranged for an amazing-smelling meal, so let’s
enjoy it before it goes cold.” Then she nodded at the sweetbutt
still holding the tray of shots, who looked fucking terrified, and
pointed to the room. The scarlet haired woman took the hint and
continued her tour of the room.

Jayce took his kids to get food, then Buck
went to fill a plate for his woman. That was sweet. That intimacy,
knowing what she’d want. And her trusting that he wouldn’t bring
her a plate of salad to be a prick.

Not that it would ever happen. Gertie was a
curvy woman and Buck liked her like that just fine.

Fritter’s stomach rumbled so he decided it
was as good a time as any to stuff his face. Tiny fell into queue
behind him.

“Hope she’s okay,” Tiny mumbled, grabbing a
plate from the stack.

“Jolene?”

“Yeah.”

“She’ll be all right. They gave her some
fucked up shit to keep her calm, I think. When it wears off it
seems like she’s extra angry.”

“I’m glad Knuckles is looking out for her.
That guy’s a fucking Woman Whisperer or some shit.”

“What?”

“You never noticed? Gertie, Jolene. He’s got
some extra sensor, knows how to talk to women and not just to hit
on them.”

Fritter contemplated that, thinking Tiny
might be right, as he spooned up mashed potatoes and roast beef on
his plate. He grabbed a few scoops of the mixed vegetables,
too.

As he was turning away from the tables,
cutlery in his free hand, he stopped in shock, seeing Sheriff
Downey, still looking plenty fuckable, stepping into the room with
some trepidation. Most heads turned to look at her, and she froze
as though she expected to get jumped.

Jayce approached her, Libby hanging off his
leg. Again, showing the group she was welcome here. Even through
people wouldn’t be speaking freely until she was gone.

Trying not to stare at her—because
damn
that skirt looked fucking amazing—Fritter found an open
spot on the sofa. Tiny sat next to him, and Buck and Gertie took up
the sofa opposite. Buck took his son so Momma could eat.

Places were occupied by diners. Some people
set their plates on the pool tables and pulled up bar stools. Other
just ate where they were standing. How Sharon came to be sitting
next to him was a mystery.

People were being careful around her, he
could feel it. A few Nomads were openly staring at her, wondering
what the fuck she was thinking. But Jayce had shown she was welcome
so no one was going to get in her face about it.

For his part, Fritter was dying to put his
hand on her back. He was slouched back on the couch, plate over his
chest so he could shovel it in without dropping all over. His
mother would be cringing.

Sharon was sitting on the front edge of the
cushions, plate set on her knees. She barely had anything on it,
but it looked like she’d grabbed food to be polite. The swell of
her hip was so close to touching his leg. When he straightened up
to grab his beer from the floor next to his feet, he made sure that
contact was made. She didn’t stiffen, she just took a mouthful but
he saw the small smile before she started chewing.

“So, I didn’t know you had children,” Gertie
was saying, eyes on the Sheriff as she worked on her dinner almost
as fast as Fritter. He knew that new moms ate at high speed; they
had to.

Sharon nodded. “Yeah, with my ex-husband. He
lives with his dad and stepmother in Bakersfield usually. They had
a little emergency this summer so he’s living here.”

Gertie nodded. “I hope everything’s okay
...?”

Sharon was quick to nod. “He’ll be fine. He
was in an accident and his wife is expecting to be busy helping
him. So Brayden is here.”

Fritter was finding this very interesting.
They didn’t talk about nearly enough personal stuff.

“You must have been quite young.” Then Gertie
blanched. “I mean, you don’t look old enough to have a ... not that
you’re
old
.”

Buck laughed at that, and his old lady gave
him a poisoned dagger glare. “I told you, I was a year ahead of her
in school,” he said in his own defense.

“I know,” Gertie returned. “You’re both so
well preserved.”

Sharon started coughing at that, and Fritter
realized she was choking on laughter and food. Without a thought he
offered her his bottle of beer. “Wash that down?”

They all stared at him, but Tiny was outright
laughing now. “Jesus, Fritter. We got lots of beer. The lady can
have a bottle to herself.” He got to his feet, smiling down at
Sharon. “Can I get you a beer, Sheriff?” Nothing about his tone
inferred respect. He was hitting on her.

Prick.