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Rip
J.T. wolf-whistled as I came downstairs dressed in slacks and a collared shirt. “Jesus Christ, man, I didn't know you could clean up that nice,” he said, a devilish glint in his eye.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “You've seen me dressed up before,” I said.
“Not like this,” J.T. said. “I bet you're even planning on bringing her flowers, aren't you?”
“Wine,” I admitted.
“You should bring flowers, man,” Frankie said seriously. “Chicks love that shit.”
“How would you know?” Wes asked, a sneer on his face.
That set off a whole shouting match between them and everyone else in the area. I watched with some amusement, trying to calm my nerves. J.T. got up from his seat and wended his way over to me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “So you really like this chick, don’t you?” he asked seriously.
I rolled my eyes. “Has that not been obvious?” I asked.
“It's been incredibly obvious,” J.T. said slowly. “Come on, you've got a bit of time. Let’s have a drink before you go.” He steered me over towards the bar and reached around to grab glasses and a bottle of scotch, ignoring Mikey, the bartender, who was down at the other end of the bar chatting with some of the other guys.
J.T. took a sip of his drink, swirling it around his mouth and seeming to think about what he was about to say. I frowned at him, wondering just what had gotten into him. “Look, I don't want to stress you out or anything, but I just wanted to remind you that if this girl is going to be hanging around the clubhouse and becoming a thing with you, then there are certain rules that go along with that.”
I could feel my ears burning. “Man, we're not becoming a thing,” I complained. “I mean, we might actually start officially dating, but I'm not about to propose to her or anything like that. That shit's a long way off.”
J.T. shrugged. “I know,” he said. “I know how you work, Rip. But we all saw her come in here in tears the other night, and we all saw how you reacted to that. And we've all heard about Gary Ellsmith getting fired from his collegiate role, pending an investigation into his personal conduct ...”
I shrugged a little. “Yeah, well. Like I said, we might start officially dating. But I still-”
“Just be careful,” J.T. said. “It all comes back around to the same thing. We're a relatively young motorcycle club, and that means that we don't have all of the clout that some of the other clubs have when it comes to the authorities. And that means that things like beating up Gary Ellsmith don't go unnoticed.”
I scowled at him. “So what, I was just supposed to let him-”
J.T. held up a hand. “Of course not,” he said. “What I'm saying is that, if there were ever a time when we needed some sort of legitimate side business, it's now. Just remember that.”
I shook my head. “J.T., I don't think I can get Greyhound Custom Motorcycles for you,” I admitted honestly. “Jessi loves that place, and she's had her heart set on working there for her whole life. I couldn't just take over the place from her; that wouldn't be...” I trailed off, feeling embarrassed by what I was saying. I was basically admitting that I had feelings for Jessi that were stronger than the brotherhood feelings that I had for the other members of the Hounds of Hades.
J.T. was laughing, though, and he clapped me on the shoulder again. “I had a feeling you might say something like that,” he said. “So I bought out Greyhounds' competitors. I figure your girl can keep her dad's shop, and you can franchise the place and run the other shop.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I don't know that we have enough business that it would make sense to franchise the place already,” I said slowly.
“Maybe not, but you will eventually,” J.T. said. “I saw that portfolio that you left lying around here this afternoon. Your girl is pretty talented.”
I grinned a little. “Yeah, she is that.” I glanced at my watch and downed my drink. “But, speaking of my girl, I have to get to dinner, and I guess figure out some way to tell her that you're planning on franchising the shop.”
“Maybe save that for your proposal in a month or two,” J.T. said, his eyes glinting again.
I rolled my eyes and flipped him the bird as I headed out the door.
At Jessi's place, I rang the doorbell and waited impatiently for her to open it. She beamed at me when she did. “Hey,” she said.
I held out the flowers that I had picked up last-minute on the way over there, and she blinked down at them, looking surprised. “You didn't have to bring flowers,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I didn't,” I said, leaning in to kiss her. “But I wanted to.”
“Thanks,” she said, sounding almost shy. She took the bottle of wine from me as well and led me into the house, down the hall and into the kitchen, where Mick was standing at the stove.
Mick glanced over at me and then whistled lowly. “Well, don't you clean up nicely,” he said.
I shook my head. “J.T. said that too,” I complained. “It's not like I look horrible in jeans and a tee-shirt.”
“No,” Jessi agreed. “But you look ...” She cut herself off, glancing guiltily over at her dad, and I wondered what exactly she'd been about to say.
I couldn't help smirking at her. “So, are you going to give me the grand tour of the place?” I asked.
“Dinner's almost ready,” Mick interrupted. “But maybe afterward, she can. For now—sweetie, could you help set the table, please?”
“Sure thing, Dad,” Jessi said. I watched her move easily around the kitchen, pulling down plates, glasses, napkins, and silverware. She handed the plates and napkins to me and led the way out to the dining room, where we began to set the table.
“I'm sure you already know this, but those slacks make your ass look incredible,” she muttered under her breath as she folded the napkins.
I laughed a little and reached out to lightly trace her own bum, sliding my hand up under her skirt for a momentary grope. “I'm sure you already know this, but your ass looks incredible no matter what you are or aren't wearing,” I told her, my tone just as serious as hers.
Jessi flashed me a smile and gave me a quick kiss as she went past on her way back to the kitchen.
“So now that J.T.'s bike is almost finished, what were you thinking of doing with all the free time you're about to have?” Mick asked over dinner.
I took a thoughtful bite of my pasta, chewing slowly. “Well, as a matter of fact, I was wondering if you'd consider letting me stay on as a part-time employee,” I said. “Even if Jessi isn't going back to school in the fall, it wouldn't hurt to have three of us on the shop. We could pick up more business and maybe expand the place a little.”
J.T. would have been proud to hear that response.
Mick frowned at that. “And how exactly are we going to drum up the extra business that would necessitate having all three of us on payroll?” he asked.
I shrugged. “There are other MCs around the city besides the Hounds,” I pointed out. “Plus, with some of Jessi's designs that were in her portfolio ...” I trailed off, looking over at Jessi questioningly. I should have talked to her about this ahead of time. I didn't know if she was okay with her dad seeing some of her latest designs. I knew that she was trying not to rock the boat too much.
Mick glanced between the two of us. “I'd like to see your designs sometime,” he told Jessi, after clearing his throat. “And I think that you should go back to school in the fall still. Things will be fine around the shop with Rip continuing to work here, and I'm sure that you're learning a lot of useful things in your courses.”
Jessi gaped at the man for a moment. “Dad,” she started, but then she stopped, looking like she didn't even quite know what to say.
Mick took another deliberate bite of his pasta. “Jessi, I've been thinking a lot about all of this over the past little bit,” he finally said, after he had chewed and swallowed. “I only wish that I'd had some sort of a mentor to help me achieve my artistic best. Maybe that's why I wasn't able to design a bike that J.T. wanted. I just don't know enough about designing bikes that I can design one for other people, rather than just for myself. You have some incredible vision, and I can already see the way your work around the shop has been changing. I think you'd be doing yourself—and Greyhound Custom Motorcycles—a disservice if you quit with your classes. Now that Ellsmith isn't going to be in the picture anyway ...” He trailed off with a shrug.
Jessi picked at her pasta, looking as though she hardly dared to look up at her dad. I reached out under the table and squeezed her knee, hoping to give her some little bit of comfort, to remind her that I was sitting there as well and that everything was going to be okay. “I thought you didn't want me to have any part of this world,” she said.
Mick sighed. “I'm not saying that I'm thrilled with you dating a biker dude and working in the shop,” he said. “But I guess it's my own fault for raising you half in the shop anyway.” He grinned a little. “Plus, I have to say, I did always kind of hope that my daughter would be into bicycles and classic rock...”