Page 34 of Dodge

“I have a general one upstairs. If you’ll wait here for a minute, I’ll go get it.”

Betsey sniffed. “I’ll follow you up. We made a whole mess of barbecue this afternoon, fixin’s an’ all. I figured I’d bring you some so’s you won’t have to cook.”

Psalm let out a small giggle. “Of course it wasn’t just an excuse to see the progress on the restaurant.”

Betsey ignored her. “We had extra, and I’m bein’ neighborly. The nosy part is separate.”

I burst out laughing at the women who’d bombarded my life and insisted they become a part of it. “I don’t have a kitchen up there, just a room and a pretend bathroom.”

Betsey’s eyes popped. “No kitchen? Are you coming down here to cook? What are you eating?”

I stopped laughing. “I suppose it’s a little weird for a chef to be doing mostly microwave instant food, but I spend so much of my time working to get this place ready, I’ve been eating a lot of sandwiches and chips, or making a big pot of something for leftovers.” I didn’t tell her I’d been cooking for Dodge. I wanted those times with him to be private.

Psalm shook her head, and Eva swore a soft oath. “You’ve done it now. The kraken is released.”

What?

“Oh hell no. I need to see this apartment.” Betsey stomped to the back of the restaurant and piled the containers on the prep table. “Ain’t none of my people gonna live poor when I got the means to make it better.”

When did I become “her people”?

I barely caught up with her as she opened the narrow door and climbed the steep steps to the apartment. One look at the air mattress on the floor was enough. Betsey spun around and ticked off her fingers. “No proper shower, a fake bed, and a mini fridge ain’t an apartment.”

At first, my reaction was mute anger. My mom had done this shit to me so many times in my life that I’d lost count. The constant barrage of criticisms and disdainful comments had conditioned me to be defensive at all times. Unfortunately, that also made it easy to be labeled as the angry Black female if I said anything or showed my irritation, so I chose my words carefully. “I don’t—”

Betsey held up a regal hand. “Don’t mistake me, darlin’. That’s not a cut to you. You’re workin’ too damn hard to not have a real place and a real bed for your back. I seen you stretchin’ it, and I done heard it crackin’ when I walked in the door.”

Her tone turned more motherly than I’d ever experienced, and my ire whooshed down the drain. “You need a long soak in a hot tub, a good meal, and a real bed for sleepin’. I cain’t really tell you what to do, but I’m going to. Get your stuff together and come on up to the Lair. I got a whole guest suite that’s private and empty right now. The boys’ll be messin’ around the big room, but you’ll have some space and a nice firm mattress. None of this air shit. Katrina’s runnin’ the bar up there tonight, and she’ll make you one o’ her world-class margaritas. Tomorrow, I’ll help you find better furniture for up here. We got plenty stored up. No need for you to be campin’ over the restaurant. Land sakes, I seen tents in better shape.”

I grabbed one of the generic job applications I’d downloaded and printed. “I’m fine here, Betsey. Really.”

“You may be fine, but I won’t be. I won’t sleep a wink knowin’ you’re livin’ like this, especially when I can do somethin’ bout it. Please, for my sake, come up to the Lair and relax a bit.” Her eyes twinkled as she tempted me again. “Hot tub and a cold margarita? Don’t tell me you’re gonna turn that down.”

My lips twisted ironically, and I raised both eyebrows. “Damn, Betsey. Does anyone ever tell you no and get away with it?”

She tossed her head and smiled. “Not very often. Brick thinks he’s gettin’ away with tossin’ out my kale salads, but he hasn’t figured out the veggie burgers yet.”

CHAPTER18

The Lair was calmerthan he’d expected it to be. Dodge entered the open part of the clubhouse and noted the lounging bikers. Forge sat on a plush sofa with Donna perched on the arm above him. Rafter was next to him, and both men played a racing video game on the huge flat-screen. A couple of other men were shooting pool and drinking beer. Katrina sat behind the bar, but instead of mixing drinks, she had several books open. Dodge recalled someone mentioning she was going back to school for a bachelor’s degree. Her pregnancy was showing quite a bit. Mute was over the moon with his second round of impending fatherhood.

Dodge stretched, and a bone popped in his back. Lately, he’d spent most of his free time either at Fauna’s place or at the garage, working on the Karmen Ghia after he completed his regular workload. The reasons were twofold in that he loved working with the vintage restorations and he could avoid going home. Mallory had settled herself there and treated the place more and more like her own. She’d mentioned she was job hunting yet again, but in the meantime, she kept the apartment clean and cooked for him sometimes. He wondered if she thought they were getting back together because it certainly seemed that way. He saw her efforts, and even if he was working somewhere else, her texts told him she was home nightly instead of out finding the next party.

It wasn’t all bad. The nights he came to the apartment, they talked about their days over whatever dinner she made and sometimes watched a Netflix movie. She would ask about his current projects at work and mention places she’d applied to or been turned down from.

The problem was he’d been down this route so many times, and even though he’d started thinking she’d changed, he didn’t quite trust her yet. The blow job she gave him that first night hadn’t been repeated, but that wasn't for her lack of trying. She’d backed off a lot, but the offer of sex was still on the table, and he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that if he traveled that road, he’d find major heartache at the end. So far he’d resisted, but twice now, she’d cajoled him into sleeping in the same bed, and like any man when confronted with a naked and willing female body, he was finding it hard to stay away.

Honestly, he missed the intimacy of being with someone on a deep level, and the idea of having that again was more temptation than physical sex. Easier and safer to make the extra effort to sleep in his room at the Lair.

His muscles pulled at the tight tendons, and he groaned. The work he’d done at his father’s place hadn’t done him any favors. Boyer needed a new roof, and rather than contract out for it, he’d pushed until Dodge gave in and helped him with it. Dodge had volunteered to pay for a company to do the work, but his father insisted on doing it himself. The last thing Dodge wanted was to get a call from the hospital saying his dad fell off his house and broke something. This past weekend, he’d worked nonstop to get the new shingles in place, and he was paying for it now.

Fauna did a lot of physical work herself as she prepared her restaurant for opening. A picture of her came to his mind, one where they’d worked side by side one afternoon. She was sweating profusely with straggles of curly black hair escaping the twist at the back of her head as she shifted another booth seat into place and anchored it to the floor with a hammer drill he’d brought over. Her body was so slight, and he wondered how she kept up with all the physical work her profession demanded, but she never shied away from it. Fuck, he admired her so damn much. Even with no makeup, puffing from exertion, messy as hell, he still wanted to kiss her. Again. But he was afraid if he did, he would never stop.

The guilt ate at him. The idea of one woman in his house and another one in his thoughts bothered him. A lot. Perhaps it shouldn’t.

But it did.

Dodge waved at the other bikers and went to his room. His body hurt, and his mind was tired of thinking about his life. He needed to find an oasis soon. A break. Maybe a vacation?

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