Page 3 of Playing for Keeps

I slapped him. Val laughed. We ended up making out for an hour in my truck. After rubbing out pleasure between ourdenim, he asked to take me on a date so he could get my pants off. I thought about how much I already liked him. We shared a terrific lust. But that was all it could ever be.

No matter how heartbreakingly beautiful, stubbornly vain, and deliciously funny Val proved to be, love would never be in the cards for me.

That’s why I told the handsome hotdog to take a long walk off a short pier.

A quick end was the best for my heart. I could see myself wanting to keep Val, only for him to fall in love with someone else. I’d hate him and maybe trash his bike. Then, I’d gain twenty pounds from gallons of Rocky Road ice cream needed to soothe my broken heart.

Even after blowing off Val, I still gained ten from my self-pity related snacking. But I knew I had done the right thing.

Now, I could do the right thing again by helping to save the Blood-Red Suns Motorcycle Club, my family’s businesses, and everything else Duke created over the years.

Earlier today, our plan got kickstarted when my dad met with the Rawkfist Motorcycle Club.

As I worked the grill at Mama McGraw’s Diner next door to Basin Rock Bar—aka the Red-Blood Suns clubhouse—a dozen motorcycles rolled into town and parked in the pub’s lot.

I couldn’t see who came from the Rawkfist Motorcycle Club. I knew Val’s uncles were the president and VP. His grandfather Jared Sheerer helped found the club and his family had been running it for decades. While I’d heard Court Bayer was a rational leader, I still worried about him fucking with my dad who had chosen to meet them alone.

Rather than allow stress to tear me apart, I focus on working in the family’s diner. I usually cook here a few times a week. I also bartend at my dad’s clubhouse several nights a week. Though I handle much of the bookkeeping for the family andclub businesses, I’ve never particularly enjoyed that part of the job.

My grandma manages the family diner. Erin loves talking up the customers. She’s so popular she could live off her tips alone.

Meanwhile, my sister hates working with the public. Clover prefers to manage the meatheads at several club-owned businesses like the moving company and handyman service.

My family might be small, but we’re strong. We can weather this situation together. I just have to keep my head on straight.

While making plates stuffed with chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes, I wonder if Val is next door at the meeting. I assume his older brother, West, has come along. He’s expected to become Rawkfist Motorcycle Club’s next president once Court Bayer retires.

“Your dad’s coming over,” Grandma Erin tells me as she carries a plate of scrambled eggs and hash browns. “Try not to look so scared when you talk to him.”

I don’t feel scared. In fact, I’m fearless!Nothing and no one can stop my momentum! I’ll never be a shrinking violet! Just tell me who to marry and I’ll ride that stranger’s dick to the wedding chapel! My family, the Blood-Red Suns, and this town will be saved!

Despite my fearless nature, I still hurry to meet Duke at the doorway. His expression is difficult to read. My father’s handsome face always seems stern yet with a hint of an impending smile. People see what they want from his face.

As we stare at each other, I don’t dare say anything. He doesn’t speak right away, either. I’m thinking about how my dad needs this plan to work.We all do.

However, I’m still a tiny bit terrified by the thought of riding a gross guy’s dick.

“Did they agree?” I ask when Duke stares at me.

“Yes.”

“So, we have an alliance?”

Duke gestures for me to walk to the back office. I nearly run so I can hear the words as soon as possible. He shuts the door and then locks it for some reason. His expression remains rigid and impossible to read.

“I asked them to patch over the club,” he says in a pained voice.

“Why?”

“I don’t think we can survive if we aren’t a part of their club.”

“But you made this club,” I mumble and step back. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I can’t let Charleston ride in here and take what we’ve built.”

Upset by how he didn’t stick to the plan, I quietly grumble, “So, you’d hand it over to those Tumbling Rock bikers?”

“It’ll be okay,” he says and then shakes his head. “Or maybe we should back out of the plan.”

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