Ready For Love?

Chapter 7

We walked to the kitchen, which was in the middle of the back of the main shed. It was a proper industrial, stainless steel, massive kitchen and I must say I was impressed!!!

It was nearly three thirty, so we quickly cleaned up before getting started.

Fire prepared the roast lamb and beef with seasonings at the table, while I got everything else sorted. I had two prospects cutting up veggies while I and one other prospect got the meat for the stews cut up and seared. Some with onions and garlic, some with other herbs.

I had done my normal, putting on some music in the background, as we all worked as a great team.

I was laughing at their reaction to a song, when I felt eyes on me. I ignored it and started talking to Scruff, the prospect beside me who had now started on the lasagna.

Scruff was only 19 and currently on leave from the Navy. His boat sails out in a week. His dad, Dog, was one of the founding members of the MC with Trigger and Viking, the president of the Deaths Defenders.

When I finally had enough of the hair on my arms standing on end, and, of course, after a little internal pep talk, I turned slightly and looked over my shoulder.

Bugger! My legs wanted to nearly give out as I looked at the gorgeous guy that gave me the t-shirt as he leaned against the doorway. Damn, he was hot, like full swoon worthy, volcano in your panties, hot.

Well, honestly, most of the men around here were good-looking, but like Scruff, I felt like almost a pedophile for looking. Even if it was only an appreciative look and not a cougar ‘I could tap that’ to feel young and desirable again.

I know there are a lot bigger age gaps around the world from my 38 to his 19, but for me that was a big NO GO! He was old enough to be my son!

Whereas the hot man in the door frame… he looked about 35, so still a bit younger, but not go to jail or feel like a predator, younger.

I gave him a big smile. “Hey tall, dark and creepy...”and, extremely lickable man ”…Come to help, or are you hungry already? We have snacks if you want?”

Everyone else quickly acknowledged the man, and he gave them a customary head nod in return. You could tell they all looked up to the guy and were a bit intimidated by him.

“Waiting for a delivery,” He replied finally, and damn, his voice was even gorgeous.

Deep, rough with a bit of a drawl that would make any woman’s panties drop… and probably do. I know mine really, really, really wanted to.

Rip POV

'Tall dark and creepy.' Never been called that before. I know I’m quiet, I’m trained to be.

‘Tall dark and creepy’… I like it.

I watched the woman as she controlled the kitchen like a pro. She definitely made herself at home, and it was interesting to see how everyone gravitated towards her... including me.

When we got the call from Stalker at the gate that Fire was all bloodied and in the car with a strange woman, we were all on guard, not knowing who this woman was and why she had Fire.

I stood back watching, as I do. I looked for wandering eyes, slip ups in her story or mannerisms, and the way Fire acted around her.

Keys was at my side as they walked Fire into the small clinic we have here, or fully equipped medical room. “Car is registered to a Fiona Fitzgerald. Australian here on a work green card…” He continued on as I watched Fire held onto the woman like she was her lifeline.

Fire did not show weakness, ever. She was a typical military brat who hadn’t joined the service. She was lost, hated everything and everyone and especially her stepmother.

Darlene became Triggers' old lady ten years ago. Best way to describe her is a soup sandwich.

This woman, though, she concentrated and held onto Fire with care. She had an inner strength that had me intrigued straight out.

There was just something about her.

“Her name's Anne Thelma Fitzgerald, 38, two children, widowed, only one speeding ticket and a few parking tickets in Australia to her name. Small mortgage, house in the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia…” he continues proving why he's one of the best. “I reckon right place, right time from everything I’m readin… and now seeing” He finishes.

I nod.

Believing in genuine people has always been hard thanks to my upbringing and now, line of work. I learned very early on to read people and not trust easily, but even my instincts were telling me there was no sign of false pretenses with this woman... Anne.

“Update Viking and Bones.”

He taps me on the shoulder and heads back in as I head towards the clinic.

I stop when Anne comes back out and looks surprised to see the prospects in her car.

I finally get a good look at her. She’s curvy, under her blood-stained loose t-shirt and jeans that mold to her ass nicely. She’s still on edge but relaxes as she takes a phone call.

Her pretty face lights up with a smile showing perfect teeth. Not whitened unnaturally like a lot around The District.

Her whole demeanor changes as she pulls the phone away and is talking to a kid via video chat. Definitely had to be her son as she listened patiently to his rant.

Strangely, I was happy to just sit and watch her, my c**k definitely liking what I saw. Interesting.

I had to actually force my feet to move. I needed to find out what the fallout was and more details of what actually happened.

We knew Fire had been stupidly playin’ around with a Satan’s Tribe MC brother. Trigger wasn’t happy, but like always, Fire wasn’t listening.

Recently she found out he was cheating, no surprise, and broke up with him.

Turns out today was him showing he didn't agree with the breakup as he was going to force her to take him back, with two of his brothers there for backup.

They beat the s**t out of her, while she supposedly gave them a good run for their money before she managed to get a hold of one of their gun, and took them all out. Trigger-happy... just like her old man. His roadname was actually his old nickname, given to him by his old platoon.

This was going to be a f**k show.

Due to all our connections, it will be easy to get this swept under the rug, except Satan’s Tribe will be wanting revenge.

Satan’s Tribe are the typical MC involved in drugs, weapons, you name it. They are either into it or trying to get into it for the doe and rep.

Our club, the Deaths Defenders, was, and still is, mainly above the legal line. We started as a place for serving members to ride, deal with their pent-up s**t or have a home, while riding bikes.

Most of us are f****d up, so there’s always a fight or two or a clean-up needed when we beat down in the civy world and may have to pay a bit of compensation as part of the cleanup.

Viking started a militia group a few years ago, which I help manage now in between contract jobs. We also have a security company, mechanics and construction company for those out, not knowing what to do and not wanting to go back. Or not being able to go back due to medical discharge or being f****d up thanks to PTSD.

Viking is also looking at a couple of other avenues for those joining with more limitations, as we call it. ‘Or bits left behind’ as Spokes calls it. He was one of the unlucky ones, or lucky ones depending on the quack you talk to. He lost his legs from the knees down thanks to the blowback from an IED.

Anne is finishing up her call as I walked back out. “Grab a clean T”, I instructed the prospect Match, as he walked past after cleaning Anne’s car.

He comes back quickly and hands it to me as Fire, Trigger and Doc come out.

I give it to her, almost laughing at her confusion before it dawns on her, then head back to the front. We need to get ready for the f*****g fall-out. And I need to get my c**k to calm down.