Page 9 of Sweet Pea

“Worse,” he replied. “Just fucking soda.”

“You in training?”

He laughed. “Pretty much. Eldie’s got me on a diet. Now that we’ve set a wedding date, she’s informed me it’s time to get ‘camera ready.’”

“We’ve set a date? Don’t you mean she’s set a date?”

“No, man. That shit changes as soon as you’re engaged.”

“So, you make all the decisions together?” I asked.

“Hell, no! She still calls all the shots when it comes to the wedding, but they are now referred to as ‘our decisions.’ Unless, of course, something goes wrong, then it was my call.”

“You really going through with the big wedding thing, huh?”

“I’m marrying a doctor, man. I can’t expect her to slum it with a bunch of greasy fuckin’ bikers all the time, can I? She deserves more than a backyard barbecue at the Sanctuary.”

“I’m just happy it’ll never be me standing up in front of everyone, wearing a fucking monkey suit.”

Clutch laughed. “I guess one hopeless romantic is enough for the family, huh?”

Clutch wasn’t Cupid’s only recent victim within the Burning Saints’ clubhouse. My brother, Ropes, had not only recently fallen in love but had also started a career as a romance novelist of all fucking things. I could barely believe it. A hardcore biker writing romance books. I knew my brother more than I knew myself sometimes and even I didn’t see that one coming.

“Look, man. I’m happy for you and the doc, I really am.”

“Good, because you’d have to fake it at our engagement party otherwise. You’re gonna be there, right?”

“Of course, but you can kiss my ass if you think I’m buying you a blender or some shit like that.”

“Jesus, Pea. How afraid of commitment are you?”

“It’s not like that. I’ve just never seen myself settling down with one woman.”

“You been thinking of getting some of those sister wives instead?”

“You know what I mean. The whole buying a big house and starting a family thing. None of that shit was ever on my radar. Now, every time I turn around, another brother is going off and getting civilized.”

“You make it sound like we’re all moving to the suburbs and getting suit and tie jobs at Gunnach Industries or something.”

“It kinda fuckin’ feels like that sometimes,” I said.

“What’s the matter? Not enough people trying to kill us right now for your taste?” Clutch snapped, his tone turning serious.

“That’s not what I meant,” I replied.

“Be careful. Getting your back up about the domestication of the club is gonna remind some of the brothers of your old mentor. Let’s not forget the reason you’re wearing his patch in the first place.”

“Like I don’t know?” I fired back. “I may be wearing Wolf’s old patch, but that doesn’t mean I’m anything fucking like him.”

“I never said you were, Pea.” Clutch’s scowl disappeared and his tone softened. “All I’m saying is that change is inevitable. We knew the club would change when Cutter died, and even more so when Minus became the prez. Shit man, my life has changed more than anyone else’s in the club. Except maybe for your brother, D.W. Foxblood, Jr.”

I laughed at his good-natured dig at Ropes and appreciated his attempt to break the tension. Something the Burning Saints didn’t need any more of right now. Despite love being in the air, the past year or so had also been filled with a shit ton of violence and chaos, and there would be even more to come should Wolf and the Spiders decide to continue with their expansion into Portland.

“I’m sure you didn’t call me here to talk wedding plans so, what’s up?” Clutch asked.

“Could be nothing, but I figured I’d best be safe and let you know.”

“Alright,” Clutch said, taking a sip of his club soda.

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