“Mav,” Colt greets, opening the door wider. “Holly just left to go pick the kids up from school.”
Actually, she left about a half an hour ago, buddy.
“Yeah, I realized that when I pulled up and didn’t see her car,” I lie, cupping the back of my neck. I’m fucking wound up and really not in the mood to break bread with Mr. Clean over here. Still, I force a tight smile. “You mind if I come in and wait for her?”
“Of course not,” he replies, waving a hand for me to enter. “Theo’s taking a nap in the living room so why don’t we go in the kitchen. Feel like a beer?”
Closing the door behind me, I swipe a hand over my face. He’s always gotta make it hard to fucking hate him.
“Sure,” I reply as I follow him through the house and into the kitchen. He fetches us a couple of beers as I take a seat at the counter. “Holly tell you I was swinging by?”
He slides the beer across the counter and laughs.
“Yeah, took me by surprise, though. She never tells me when you’re coming, but I guess you’re the reason we’re having Chinese take-out tonight. Holly says General Tso’s is your favorite.”
I pop the top of my beer and lift it to my lips, taking a long pull.
I set the beer on the counter and look at Colt.
“Back in the day she used to hate Chinese food, you know that?”
He shakes his head.
“The woman used to cook a five-course meal every night and three nights a week—an hour after the table was cleared— I’d call in a hundred dollars worth of Chinese food. Drove her absolutely nuts, but the next day she’d eat the leftovers for lunch.”
Even though I want to wring Holly’s neck right about now the memory provokes a smile, but as quickly as it appears it fades. It wasn’t long after that, I stopped coming home and she stopped cooking.
The Chinese food stopped too.
“You know, come to think of it, back when we were dating I’d ask her what she felt like having and she always replied with ‘anything but Chinese’. Got her to marry me long before I ever got to buy her an eggroll.”
I bark out a laugh and reach for my beer, but the humor evaporates just as fast as my smile did. I’m sure there’s been plenty of incidents where Colt has suffered the consequences of a scar I inflicted. Chinese food is probably the least damaging of it all. A better man would walk out the door before causing any more harm.
“Sorry, brother,” I mutter.
He leans over the counter and claps a hand to my shoulder.
“It’s all good, man, we survived the Chinese food PTSD.” He takes a pull from his beer. “So, what’s the occasion tonight? Tara already break-up with the kid from last night?”
I study him for a moment.
“Actually, I’m here on business,” I reveal. He raises an eyebrow and sets his beer down on the counter. Bracing both hands on the edge, he clears his throat.
“Trouble with your club?”
Until now, Colt and I have never discussed my club. I’m sure Holly has filled him in on the basics, but she’s no rat, that woman is the gate keeper of all my club’s secrets. That being said, the Satan’s Knights have a reputation around these parts and Colt is no fucking moron. I’m sure he’s connected the dots, especially after my brothers and I paid him a visit—it was after I had my guys tail him and I was dead set on burying him alive. Six months later we were bosom buddies, both in love with the same woman.
“I don’t know if trouble is the right word,” I start.
I, myself, much prefer the term fucked.
Instead of cutting to the chase about the guns, I lead with Holly’s story. I figure I’ll ease him into the mayhem with a couple of well spun lies.
“Looking to expand a little,” I continue. “In fact, that’s why I called Holly earlier and told her I was coming by, I want to feel her out on the possibility of reopening H & M. I know the kid is in school and you’re on the road a lot, but she ran that business like a well-oiled machine when Tara and Shep were little.”
The friendly smile falls from his face and I watch him swipe a hand over his face.
“Mav…I…uh…well, things are gonna be tight around here for a while. Things at work are slow and we don’t have the cash to start a business right now.”