Page 53 of Weatherman

Betsey “fed” Pearl, which consisted of letting my daughter smear potatoes and gravy all over her shirt.

“I’m sorry for the mess.”

Betsey laughed and let out a“Pshhht” while clicking her nails at me. “Don’t you worry ’bout it. This here is my mama cut. It’s been spit up on, chewed on, and peed on more than once. I wouldn’t trade it for all the tea in China.”

Grandma to the world indeed.

I spotted Katrina coming in the front door wearing her nurse’s scrubs. She had a baby carrier in one hand, a big bag over the opposite shoulder, and a tired smile. Mute hurried over to her and leaned down to kiss her before taking the baby. I watched as the huge man picked up the squirming bundle and cradled his child. Mute always struck me as the most brutal and fearsome biker of the Dragon Runners, but the tenderness and care on his face blurred out any thought of that. His child would never be harmed.

It was breathtaking.

A father’s love. A true father. Not some sperm donor who couldn’t be bothered to even meet his child.

I had to look away before I lost it, but it was hard. Everywhere my eyes landed, there was evidence of deep care. Table smiled and ruffled the hair of one child. Natalie sat on a sofa with a plate of food in her lap and talked with Psalm, morethan likely about some sort of fiber craft. Eva arrived with the rest of her clan, and Stud greeted her with a big kiss that made their oldest daughter roll her eyes. Brick stood talking to several of his men, but when Betsey strolled up to him still carrying Pearl, he raised his arm around her shoulders, acknowledging her status in his life.

Everyone had a place and purpose in this club, and I found myself wanting my own spot in it.

Weatherman and I sat in an alcove with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the massive pool deck. The pool itself was huge and currently covered for the season, but there was a hot tub still open and bubbling away in a screened-off area. Several people were making their way to it, and I wondered if they had on bathing suits under their fluffy robes.

“Betsey doesn’t allow skinny-dipping, but it still happens from time to time,” Weatherman remarked.

“How do you know?” I asked as I lifted a forkful of the sweet potatoes.

He dipped his chin and gave me a mischievous look.

“Oh. Never mind.” I had to grin. “During the winter in Minnesota, the lakes and rivers freeze up enough that we put out ice fishing shacks like little neighborhoods. Some of them are just tents, and some are real little houses with beds and kitchens for longer stays. We have these long augers to drill through the ice so we can put lines in for fishing. I don’t think it gets cold enough to do that here.”

“It’s rare that we get a freeze like that, but we’ve had a few hard winters when the ice and snow build up like crazy. Then again, we also get really mild winters like this one, where we’re lucky if we see three flakes drift down.” He paused to take a bite of food. “I’m serious about the sweet potatoes, babe. Try ’em.”

I put the fork in my mouth, and heaven exploded on my tastebuds. “Uff-da, this is good.”

He smirked. “Told you.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, and then he asked, “So, how does life here in North Carolina compare with Minnesota?”

I paused to think of the right response. “It’s different and the same. I mean, like the weather and the way people talk are big ones, but people are still people no matter where they live. Minnesota mothers deal with the same things North Carolina mothers do. Schools, kids’ sports, households, money—everyone talks about it all the time at the salon, all the challenges they have on a daily basis.”

He made an amused grunt. “I’m thinking you’re like a bartender/counselor, expected to dole out advice while rolling perm rods.”

“Sometimes. Tambre’s better at it than me. She’s one of the few who can handle Burna Jones.”

“So, what did you do before you became a stylist?”

My stomach churned. “Um… nothing interesting. How about you? What did you do before you became… well… a weatherman?”

He smiled as he wiped his mouth. “Most people call us meteorologists now. I spent a lot of time on the swim team and later as a lifeguard. I met Table and Lori my senior year, just before I won a swimming scholarship. It took care of most of my college tuition. That, my savings, and guilt money from my father put me through school, and I was able to graduate debt-free and with a little extra left over. I’m one of the few students who lived at home and commuted for classes. Saved a lot of money that way.”

He stacked my empty plate on his and stood. “Go grab us some drinks, would you? I’ll get rid of these, and then we can take a walk outside for a bit.”

Walking with Weatherman?It sounded like a children’s book title, and I had to suppress a giggle. “You bet.”

I got him a beer from the cooler and myself a Diet Coke. He twisted off the tops of both bottles before handing me my soda. “I guess the temperature outside isn’t that cold to you, right?”

“Well, I’m not planning on wearing shorts, but it’s not like Minnesota cold, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He reached out his hand. “Pearl is safe with Betsey, and my mom will also keep an eye out. Come with me.”

The weird flutters in my belly came back. “Why?”

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