Page 23 of The Gentleness of Rage

“Sit your butt down. Do you need to do anything?”

“Er, I gotta put the air fryer on for the fries. I made homemade ones,” she murmured, eyeing Slate as if unsure.

“Great, I can manage to put an air fryer on, but don’t ask me to do anything else. Well, I can toss a salad, cut fresh baked bread, and carve a joint. Other than that, don’t ask too much of me. I’m useless in the kitchen,” Slate teased and moved to switch the air fryer on.

Jaelynn’s eyes were huge, and Slate could see her wondering if this was a trap. Was Slate luring her to relax before he lost his temper? Slate made sure his body language remained loose and easy.

Slate would punch his anger out later when at home. He really wanted Jaelynn to learn to trust him. For several reasons.

“You don’t cook?” she asked.

“Nope. Toast, microwave meals, and takeaway are my staples. I can make a banging sandwich, too.” Slate grinned as he swallowed some beer. “Then, when I need a cooked meal, I just hunt one of the old ladies down and look pathetic.”

“Old ladies. They are what your brother’s girlfriends are called, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. They mean more to us than a wife would. But at Rage, we claim them and marry them. Seems to be a pattern we fell into. But most bikers don’t wed their old ladies. But that doesn’t mean they ain’t loved. They are, and the ground they walk on is worshiped,” Slate explained.

“I can’t imagine what that feels like,” Jaelynn murmured and shook herself. She forced a bright smile to her face.

“Want to go and turn the TV on? I am sure there’s a game on tonight,” she offered.

“Why would I do that when I’m talking to you?” Slate asked, and once again, Jaelynn looked shocked. “Can I lay something on the line?”

“Yes,” Jaelynn said, but Slate noticed her moving towards the knife. He let her.

“I recognise abuse when I witness it, Jaelynn. Drake’s woman, Phoe, was battered, and some of our other old ladies have been beaten. We have several times intervened in relationships and got women to safety. Nobody in Rage will stand for an abusive asshole.

“I can see dinner is a trigger. So, I’m going to give you lots of space, but remember, this is an unexpected gift from you to me. Babe, I didn’t expect you to cook, not for me. I’d planned to order a delivery. So, whatever you’ve cooked, which smells fuckin’ amazing, is perfect.

“I’m not here to watch TV or do anything else while you remain here slaving over a hot stove. My mama would have beaten my ass for that. In my mama’s house, if we couldn’t cook, we laid the table, poured the wine, or did other tasks, but nobody disrespected who was cooking. Now I’m going to give you lots of space. Jaelynn, I’ll move slow, so I don’t scare you, what with me being a big man and all, and I’m gonna sit here and talk to you. That would make me really happy, having a chance to get to know you,” Slate explained, sitting on the stool.

Jaelynn stared and Slate wondered what she was thinking as her expression was blank. Then she opened the fridge and pulled out a bowl.

“You can toss the salad, unicorn,” she said and offered a slight smile.

Slate winked and did as he was told.

Chapter Five.

Jaelynn

Slate surprised me with how complimentary he was about the meal. Damien had never been verbose about my cooking and was quite happy to slap me about if he didn’t like something. Slate kept his distance and was respectful but funny.

He told me several stories about his brothers and their old ladies, and I finally admitted to being in the book shop. Slate had roared with laughter when he realised the scene I’d witnessed.

“You should have said hi,” he replied once he stopped.

“I didn’t want you to think I was stalking you,” I muttered.

“It would have given me a chance to escape the strip joint,” Slate responded with a scowl.

“What do you mean?”

“Drake bought the damn club and put me in as manager. I don’t wanna be dealing with a shitload of women’s drama, and I’ve seen how those bitches get.” Slate scowled.

I bristled, but Slate continued.

“Hell, Jaelynn, I am not the man to decide if a thong makes a woman’s ass look fat. Nor am I going to wade in over stolen pasties. I’m not gonna choose who gets what spot, and fuck me if I need to choose costumes. Jeez, I’m not that guy!”

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