Page 51 of Playing for Keeps

“You’re acting weird.”

Duke studies me. In these moments, when he hides his heart, I can understand why people fear him. Right now, instead of my dad, he’s Duke McGraw, the motorcycle club president and king of Basin Rock.

“What would you give up to be with Val?” he asks.

Stepping back, I’m startled by the question. The answer isn’t clear until I think of a sleepy Val smiling at me this morning. I’d stared at him and imagined an older Val, decades in the future, waking up next to me wearing the same smile. He’s my one chance at true happiness.

“I’d give up everything for Val.”

Duke frowns like I’m a fool. “Just like that?”

Nodding, I feel silly to confess such a thing. I was so sensible only days ago. Now, I can’t shake this all-encompassing need to be with Val. If he walked away from me, I’d lose something fundamental inside me.

“Then, it’s good he’s hung up on you, isn’t it?” Duke says and then juts his jaw toward the house. “Let up on me, Lola. I already plan to take him riding in a day or two That’s what you want, right? For me and your boy-toy to bond.”

“Yes, but be nice.”

“He isn’t a child, Lola, and I’m not your enemy. Calm the hell down,” he says, sounding more tired than angry.

“I’ll try, but I’m in uncharted territory right now. All my armor broke away yesterday. Val owns my heart. If he’s unhappy, I am, too.”

“So, when he and I butt heads like men are prone to do, are you planning to whine to me in his defense?”

“Yes, all the time, endlessly,” I tease and poke his arm. “It’ll be unbearable. I’m sorry, but that’s love.”

Duke shares my smile. “Okay, but you need to get off my ass right now, so I can go.”

Backing off, I let Duke ride out of the garage without making any more emotional pleas. The reality is Val doesn’t need my protection. I learned that yesterday, too.

Val isn’t so different than my dad. Duke was once a young, handsome guy people wrote off as too pretty to be scary. Unlike my dad, Val is the third generation of men in his family to be involved in a motorcycle club. He can hold his own.

Even knowing all this, I remain insecure about my new situation. Sure, Val distracts me with his fine body. We also walk around the neighborhood. One evening, we shoot hoops at the park. The casual way we can spend time together ought to slice right through my growing wall of fears.

Instead, I’m still nervous when I meet the homestead women for dress shopping. They’re already in the Rockwell parking lot when Clover and I arrive.

Tuesday dances around Roxie as they wait near their cars. “Barracuda” plays on her phone, and Oana pretends to play the guitar. Alexis hides under the dress shop’s awning. An uneasy Edith stands between the two groups.

“Our newest best friends are here!” Tuesday announces, really pushing the happy warrior vibe today.

Once inside the shop, I decide to get the difficult part out of the way first. “This is the color I’ve chosen,” I announce and show them the sample dress from a rack. “You can pick any design of dress, but it needs to be this color.”

To my relief, they don’t noticeably rebel. Instead, Tuesday insists, “I’m going to look so hot. You really should have picked an uglier color, so you’d stand out more during the wedding.”

“Don’t make me mention the ‘slut off’ we had,” I warn Tuesday who only shrugs. I turn my gaze to Alexis. Her eyes widen under my attention. Oana inches closer to her cousin-in-law to show support. “Will that color be okay for you?”

“Why are you asking me and not Edith or Oana?”

I refuse to answer since I know she knows the answer. Alexis flashes a big smile.

“I can turn on West even when I’m dressed as a clown for parties. I’m not worried about looking bad in my bridesmaid dress.”

“That’s good to know. I was worried there’d be complaints,” I say, and they all stare at me as if waiting for something. “Um, let’s start shopping.”

Everyone smiles except for Edith. Val’s cousin refuses to perk up through several visits to the dressing rooms. She finally chooses a lovely dress with a one-shoulder neckline and a front slit.

“You’ll be so fuckable,” Tuesday insists while searching for the most revealing bridesmaid’s dress possible.

When Edith doesn’t react to her cousin’s comment, I sense she doesn’t want to be here. Edith’s got a specific vibe that makes me feel small.

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