Page 30 of Scythe's Salvation
I shake my head. Only a man wouldn’t care that the woman he’s interested in is curvy. I still have the pooch from where I carried Chance, for heaven’s sake! But it doesn’t matter to Scythe. He shows me in his actions that he thinks I’m perfectly fine just the way I am, and that goes a long way toward healing broken pieces inside of me from the past.
“Guys don’t like fat girls, Tamara,”my foster mother said as I went to get another helping of mashed potatoes.“You’re gettingto the age where what you eat will stick to your bones, and not in a flattering way.”
“What has you frowning?” Hawg asks as he sits down at our table.
“Something from the past,” I admit. I don’t know him well at all, but he’s one of the three people actively searching out stuff on Tim, so I’m definitely going to be nice.
“Well, the past is just that. The past. Shake it off because my brother is so into you, it’s positively disgusting,” he says. “And I don’t mean disgusting in a bad way either. He’s like the other brothers who have found their ol’ ladies, totally focused on what you like and need.”
I don’t see anything wrong with that myself. I think a coupleshouldbe focused on each other. How else will they become one of your best friends?
“Yeah, but sometimes shit said in the past creeps back in,” I tell him. “I know what I was told isn’t truth, but it was said at an impressionable age, and while that stuff doesn’t really bother guys so much, for us women? It can sting, even years later, especially if we’re insecure about something.”
“You flirting with my woman, Hawg?” Scythe asks as he returns to the table withtwooverladen plates. I’m not sure where he puts it all because he’s very well-muscled. I briefly wonder how he’d look with a ‘dad bod’ then realize that no matter if he had one or not, he’d still be hot as hell.
Hawg chuckles then retorts, “I kind of value my life, brother, so no, I’m not flirting with her. Just needed a place to sit and eat. Feels weird to be out of my office with everything going on rightnow, but Brick said I had to. Said I was too fucking pale, and he didn’t wanna have to change my road name to Casper.”
I start laughing, because Hawg has a somewhat swarthy skin tone, which I imagine will darken if he gets a lot of sun. But there’s no way he’d ever get as pale as a ghost. At least, not in this lifetime!
“Well, you shouldn’t work so damn hard, brother,” Scythe replies. “With the three of y’all working on stuff, what’s meant to be found will be.”
I realize they’re kind of talking in code, likely because it’s what the ol’ ladies called ‘club business’ and that makes sense to me. As protective as these guys are over their families, I can only imagine that if there’s something going on with the club, they’d want to keep it far from them. It’s more than about the whole plausible deniability thing, too. It’s about making sure they don’t unnecessarily worry. And I kind of like that; knowing that Scythe will do what it takes to protect me, Chance, and down the road, any children we might have, settles something in my soul.
“I’ll try, but it’s not easy since threads keep showing up,” Hawg admits. “But I’ll never find my own ol’ lady holed up in command central.”
“Not unless you order her from one of those mail-order bride sites,” I chime in. At his look, I add, “They’re still around, but I think mostly millionaires and whatnot use them now since they’re too busy running their empires to do something as basic as date.”
“Mommy! Did you see that one?” Chance asks for the millionth time as another batch of fireworks hit the sky, the colors arcing into a preset design, which elicits oo’s and aah’s from everyone.
I don’t know how they do it, the fireworks manufacturers that is, but seeing stars and images in the night sky has me impressed. “Yeah, buddy, I sure did,” I reply, sipping on a frozen concoction that Ryleigh brought me. Seems that all the ol’ ladies are drinking them, and I imagine that there will likely be more kids around this time next year. That thought makes me snicker, then my smile falls as a longing fills my heart to have another one myself.
Thinking about another little boy who looks like a combination of Scythe and myself has me writhing with desire.Wrong place, wrong time, Tam, I remind myself. But hopefully soon because I want him with a desperate need at this point.
I honestly wish Amara was here so we could dissect every little thing about these past two days. I make a mental note to call her once I’m home so we can discuss all of it without little ears listening in, of course.
Scythe’s voice crackles over the mic, coming through every speaker and making me shudder in delight. “And now, for the grand finale!”
As Lee Greenwood’sGod Bless the USAstarts playing, images implode across the sky and when the song ends, a huge American flag is waving, which has all of us standing and clapping as Scythe, Prowler, and Striker take a bow.
“Okay, folks, we’re going to take about thirty minutes to get the movie set up. That’s plenty of time to hit the heads, then grab your snacks!” Scythe announces. He walks toward me and leans in to give me a resounding kiss. “What did you think?” he asks as the three of us walk toward the clubhouse to do as he suggested.
“It was better than any I’ve seen before,” I confess. Looking down at Chance, I say, “Go ahead and get in your pajamas, buddy. That way you’ll be comfortable for the movies, okay? You’ve got time to take a quick shower too, which isn’t a bad idea since I can see the mud behind your ears.”
Chance grins then says, “Okay, Mommy. I want lots of butter in my popcorn.”
“We’ll meet you in the common room and all go out together,” I tell him.
We’re back out on our blankets before the thirty minutes is up, our hands full of drinks and snacks. “Don’t worry, if we run out, I’ll get us some more,” Scythe promises as we get settled in. “Just so you know, I plan to steal a lot of kisses during both movies.”
“But is it really stealing if I’m willing to give them to you?” I tease.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Scythe
This past weekhas been beyond busy at Imperial Ink. Between the scheduled clients, as well as the walk-ins from the tourists trying to wring out every last bit out of their summer, every one of us has been working from the time the doors open until we lock them at night. Tamara’s schedule has been just as bad, which has reduced us to texting throughout the day whenever one of us gets a moment.
