Whiskey Neat (The Uncertain Saints MC Book 1) (9 page)

He shuddered.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Wait a cotton-picking minute,” I said, recalling a story that’d been in the paper last week. The same day I’d seen a paper clutched in Griffin’s hand as he angrily stormed out of the diner. “It was your son.”

His eyes closed.

“Yeah, that was my baby.”

My eyes instantly welled up in realization of all that this poor man had been through.

“Oh, Griff. I’m so sorry.”

He lifted a shoulder indifferently, but I knew he was affected.

Now I knew exactly what had caused that ‘just-don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude that seemed to envelope him most of the time.

He’d lost his little boy.

From what I’d read in that article, it had been reported that the little boy was shot outside of his school and that it appeared to have been intentional.

Dear God, someone had murdered Griffin’s son!

Dear teenagers complaining about life: You’ve only felt the tip of life’s dick. There’s a lot more to go. Pull your big girl panties up and hold on. It’s gonna be a rough ride.

-Words of Wisdom

Lenore

The next day it was like the words at the diner had never happened. Griffin had done a wonderful job at hiding all those emotions he’d shown me the day before.

“What do you have to do today?” Griffin asked as he walked with me up to my front door, my hand in his.

I’d just gotten in from doing a supply run for the shop, and had been surprised to see Griffin in the store as well.

He’d followed me home without a request from me, and then kissed me silly the moment my feet hit the ground outside of my car.

I let go of his hand to reach into my purse for my keys when the front door was opened.

Remy was standing there with an odd look on his face.

I could hear his girls playing somewhere beyond the living room, and I smiled at him.

Griffin’s hand was on my back as Remy and him silently stared each other down.

“Move out of the way, Rem. I have to pee,” I ordered him, unsurprised to find my house occupied.

They were always showing up out of the blue.

Remy moved slightly to allow me entrance, but moved back over just as quickly to stop Griffin before he could come inside.

“What are you doing here?” Remy asked Griffin.

I turned around and elbowed Remy.

“Ouch,” Remy cried.

I glared at him.

“Move out of the way so Griffin can come in,” I admonished him.

Remy moved with the utmost reluctance.

Satisfied until I could go relieve my unbearably full bladder, I darted to the hallway bathroom, only to turn when I saw Maddison in it.

“Shit,” I hissed, making my way to my bathroom.

That’s where I found Macynn.

“Get out of my makeup!” I yelled at her.

Macynn was five going on thirty, and Madison was eight.

They were both little trouble makers that took after their father a little too much.

I slammed the door to the toilet and took care of business, coming out two minutes later feeling like a new woman.

“Didn’t I tell you to get out of my make-up?” I asked Macynn.

“Yep. You did,” she confirmed.

I rolled my eyes. “Then why are you currently using my eye liner as lip stick?”

She looked at the eyeliner in disgust before tossing it down.

“Nobody tells me anything!” Macynn cried. “How is a girl supposed to learn to do this if her father won’t teach her?”

I laughed.

Macynn was also a bit of a drama queen.

“Maybe when you’re ten I’ll teach you how to do all of that,” I said, washing my hands and drying them on the towels that my mother told me were only for decoration.

It drove my mother nuts when I did it.

My argument was still valid.

If I had the ‘decoration’ towels up, then what the hell was I supposed to hang my ‘non-decoration’ towels on?

“Let’s go,” I ordered Macynn.

She let out a long sigh and jumped down off the counter, following behind me as we walked back into the living room.

“Who is
that?
” Madison asked from where she peeked around the corner of the hallway.

I smiled.

“That’s, umm…” I hesitated.

“Her boyfriend,” Griffin said, startling all three of us when we realized he was staring at us…and could hear our conversation.

Wait, what?
He’s my boyfriend?

Holy shit!

We hadn’t spoken much after what he’d revealed about his son. He’d been lost in thought, and I’d been too worried to broach the subject anymore.

But I guess he really meant what he’d said as we were walking into the diner.

I was his.

Did that make him mine?

I’d be sure to ask him when Remy left…which would hopefully be soon.

My mother yelled from the kitchen. “Who wants to try my cobbler? It’s going to be
slammin’!”

I rolled my eyes at my mother’s use of the ‘hip’ language as she liked to call it.

My mother wasn’t old…per se.

She was, however, very stuck in her ways as a Southern Lady.

She used please and thank you, said ‘bless your heart’ and ‘you’re kidding’ way too much.

But I loved her anyway.

“I’ll try it,” Remy offered almost immediately.

“We will too, YaYa!” Macynn squealed.

I felt Griffin’s presence at my back, and looked up at him over my shoulder.

“Do you like peach cobbler?” I asked him.

His eyes, those beautiful baby blues, shined with mirth.

“Peach cobbler is fattening,” he told me.

I raised a brow at him.

“That didn’t answer the question,” I observed.

He grinned. “No, it didn’t, did it?”

I elbowed him softly in the belly.

It wasn’t a surprise that he would call that fattening.

With the way I remembered his body feeling pressed up against my back, it wasn’t in the least bit surprising that he’d be conscious of what he put into his body.

I pulled Griffin with me into my kitchen to see Remy, my mother, and the two girls crowded around my kitchen island.

“Who are you?” My mother asked excitedly as she looked up and saw Griffin.

“That’s Auntie Lennie’s boyfriend, YaYa!” Macynn crowed. “He’s hot!”

I covered my face with my hands and laughed into them as my mother came over instantly.

“I really wish my daughter would tell me about these important life decisions she makes. A couple of weeks ago she told me she was gay…you are most definitely a man. So I’m confused,” my mother said.

I laughed harder into my hands.

I
had
said that.

But only because she kept pestering me about finding a man.

It’d been only days after I’d first met Griffin. He’d rocked my world twice. Once by fucking me into oblivion, and second by holding me through the night.

I’d been in denial.

I didn’t think it’d ever be possible to go back from that.

Which was why I told my mother I was pretty sure I had to be gay if this thing with Griffin and me didn’t work out.

Because no one would be able to live up to all that was Griffin.

“My name is Ronda Lenore Drew. What’s your name?” My mother asked, extending her hand to Griffin.

I sighed and removed my hands from my face where I’d been peeking out at my mother.

Griffin shook my mother’s hand and said, “I’m Griffin Storm.”

“And what are you? A cowboy?” She asked, eyeing Griffin’s outfit.

He was dressed head to toe in his Texas Ranger’s gear.

Boots. Jeans. Cowboy hat. And Badge.

Although she couldn’t see the badge, yet.

“I’m a Texas Ranger,” he said, moving out from behind me so my mother could see his sparkly gold badge and gun at his hip.

My mother’s eyes widened.

“Holy cow, Lenore! You’ve hit the jackpot!” My mother cried loudly.

At that, I grabbed Griffin’s hand and led him into the kitchen.

I pointed to a seat at the end of the island, the only one left after Remy and his two girls took theirs, and walked around the counter into the kitchen.

“What does everyone want to drink? I have milk, water, tea, and coffee,” I said.

“Coffee,” Remy said.

“Water,” Griffin rumbled.

“Milk!” Both girls yelled.

I rolled my eyes.

I could’ve guessed all of those.

“So where did you meet my daughter?” My mother asked.

Griffin looked at me with amusement before he said, “I needed batteries and Uncertain Pleasures was the only thing open.”

My mother blushed as she dished up Remy’s plate first, followed shortly by the girls.

My mother didn’t disapprove of my business, but she also didn’t go blurting out what I did to everyone.

She was the quintessential Christian, always going to church every Sunday.

However, she was also proud of her daughter and supported her any way she could.

Even if she’d never stepped foot in my store once all the dildos were out on the shelves.

“Why didn’t you go to the store down the street from there? The Dollar Store is always open,” Remy murmured around his fork filled with cobbler.

“Closed due to power outage.” Griffin murmured, his eyes on the cobbler my mother was giving him.

She scooped a healthy amount onto another tea plate and set it down in front of him.

Griffin looked up at me with humor shining in his eyes, but nonetheless dug into his cobbler, finishing it even before Remy.

“Well, how is it?” My mother asked.

“Good,” Remy muttered. “I think the breading is a little too thick, though.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Griffin declared, leaning back to rub his taut belly.

My eyes followed his movements, and I wanted to scream at the injustice.

The man was in tip-top shape.

One plate of cobbler wasn’t going to hurt him in the slightest.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he worked out longer today because of it, too.

“Thank you, Griffin. Remy, why can’t you ever say anything nice like that?” My mother teased.

“Because I’m not a kiss ass,” Remy muttered under his breath.

Apparently the two men still had some hostility to work out.

“Actually,” he said. “My mother’s a state champion cobbler maker in Arkansas. I’ve tasted so many cobblers that I couldn’t even begin to tell you a number, and this one was close to perfect.”

My mother’s eyes lit up.

“Really? Who is your mother?” My mother asked, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

“Rayleigh Deen,” he answered.

My mother gasped.

“Your mother is not Rayleigh Deen!” My mother squealed. “Oh, my God! This is her recipe!”

Griffin grinned.

My eyes widened.

Griffin’s mother was somewhat of a famous celebrity, kind of like Wolfgang Puck and Emeril.

We’d never been without her cookbooks in my mother’s house, and I currently had three of them in my own cabinet not five feet away.

“Holy shit!” Remy exclaimed. “My mother watches her cooking show every Sunday.”

Griffin shrugged. “Reruns. She hasn’t filmed anything new for six months or so.”

“Why not?” I asked.

I regretted the question the moment the words were out of my mouth.

“Because of Tanner,” he said softly, pushing away from the counter and standing to his full height. “I’ve actually got to go. Duty calls.”

And before any of us could say another word, he was gone, and we were left in silence that he left behind.

“What happened?” Maddison asked softly.

My heart wanted to cry out for him.

“Tanner was his son. He died in a drive by shooting about six months ago,” I said softly, staring at the door like I could will him to come back.

“Oh, that poor man,” my mother said softly.

“Shit,” Remy said. “That just sucks.”

“Is he the one that was killed at his school?” Maddison asked, looking at me.

I nodded. “Yeah, baby. I think that’s him. Although he hasn’t given me many details on how he was killed yet. And I’m too scared to ask him.”

“If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you,” Remy said, sounding so positive about his statement that I wanted to believe him.

I looked up at him, remembering the advice Griffin had given me this morning about how I shouldn’t tell him about Jenna, and smiled at him sadly.

The two men in my life had some serious problems.

And I hated that for them.

“Maybe you should go to his work and check to make sure he’s alright,” Macynn suggested.

I smiled sadly at her.

“I don’t know where he works, baby doll. I’ll be sure to ask him for next time I upset him, though,” I teased.

She grinned at me.

“You plan on upsetting him a lot?” She asked.

I shrugged. “I’m only human, baby, and I have a smart mouth. I’m sure it’ll happen quite a bit.”

But a question did linger through my mind as I went about my day.

Would he run every time I pissed him off or he got upset?

Which led to another question.

Could I live with that?

The chains on my mood swing just snapped.

-Bumper Sticker

Griffin

“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning across my desk that was situated in the middle of my office.

He nodded to the papers in front of me and I scanned them.

I gathered in a matter of moments the enormity of what I was reading.

“This bill’s effectively repealing the ‘in plain view’ law,” I said in surprise.

What the fuck was that about?

When a police officer was conducting a routine procedure, like pulling a car over, he could use the ‘in plain view’ law to search the vehicle without getting a warrant issued first in certain circumstances.

Like if a police officer saw something, say a bag that resembled a baggie of weed on the front seat of a car during a regular traffic stop, he could legally search the entire car because he saw something suspicious ‘in plain view’ that justified further inspection.

And if during that search he found a stash of illegal guns in your trunk, well, that basically was on you since it was your own stupidity for leaving a bag of weed out in plain view.