Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (26 page)

“You should have wrapped your dick, Monroe. You'd have saved yourself a shit load of trouble. Last thing we need is the clubhouse turning into some soap opera with everything else going on. I need everyone sharp and focused.” Buster was usually a relatively patient and calm person, but there was an edge to his words now.

Monroe knew that he'd fucked up; he didn't need to be reminded of it over and over again. “I am focused. As far as Claire, she'll toe the line or she won't get any of the help that I'm offering. I've got it handled.”

“You best be sure about that, Monroe. Claire's been around long enough to have picked up things, things that shouldn't be shared. She's got hormones raging though her soul, making her unpredictable at best. Tread carefully, Brother.” Buster reached out, patted him on the shoulder. “Speaking of hormones, I need to get my old lady out of there. We've got a birthing class we can't be late for.”

“She was sitting down when I came in and until she saw you, if that helps. I should get going, too. Drea's waiting for the bread for dinner.”

“What's for dinner?”

“Sausage and peppers,” Monroe replied.

“Ask Drea to take pity on me and make me a plate. Right now, everything gives Caroline heartburn. She hasn't made anything with a tomato, pepper or onion in at least a month. We're eating a lot of chicken breast and steamed veggies. I miss fried food, spicy food, and basically all food with taste.

“She'll be happy to.” An idea occurred to Monroe. “Caroline mentioned wanting to have a cookout this weekend. I can have Drea make whatever you want.”

“That cookout probably isn't going to happen, Monroe. It's too much work for her, even if she doesn't realize it. She needs to worry about cooking the humans inside of her.”

There was no reason Caroline had to host the cookout. “We can cook out at our place. It's probably our turn anyway.”

“Come to think about it, you're right. It is your turn. You need to run it by your old lady first?”

“No, it's fine.” Monroe didn't know what was so funny about the simple statement, but it made Buster laugh, loud and hard. Harder than he'd laughed around Monroe in a good long while. “Want to let me in on the joke?”

“I'm just picturing the look on Drea's face when you tell her that you're inviting over a dozen people, most of them hungry bikers, for a meal and party in like four days.”

#>#>#>#>

It turned out that Buster was right; he should have asked Drea before offering to host the cookout. Even trying to spin it as a housewarming, since she was officially all moved in, didn't help. Actually, it might have made things worse, because apparently parties were supposed to be planned well in advance.

“You should have asked, Monroe. At least if you'd asked, I could have suggested Sunday and given myself an extra day to get things done.” Drea turned the flame off underneath the sausage and peppers. “Can you grab the plates, please?”

Monroe turned to the cabinet, took out two plates. “Let's do it Sunday, then. I'll just let everyone know. Next time, I'll make sure that I ask you before I offer. I should have this time. I'm sorry. Caroline just looked so tired and I figured it might be fun.”

“I know it will be fun. The getting it all together part is what's going to suck. I'm going to need help.”

“I can help. I'll start right now, do you want a beer or the rest of your wine?”

“The rest of the wine, please. I'll make a shopping list tonight. It would be a big help if you could go for me.”

“I can handle the grocery store. And I'll man the grill the day of. Oh, one more thing, Caroline's been having issues with heartburn so she needs something on the bland side.”

“Nothing that I make is bland, Monroe.” She gave him a look that made him vow to never call her cooking bland again.

“You know what I mean; she needs something not greasy or spicy and without things like onions and peppers. Another thing, Buster needs a to-go plate of this meal since he's eating what Caroline eats at home.”

“Anything else?” She turned away from the counter with the plates in her hand. “Grab the bread, please.”

“I think that's it for now. I'll let you know if I think of anything else.” Monroe grinned as she looked over at him. “Wait, one more thing...”

“For fuck's sake, Monroe. Really? What else? Am I donating an organ to someone and you forgot to mention it?” Drea set the plates down on the table with a loud clatter. Her eyes were narrowed, and if he looked beneath the table he was sure her foot would be tapping, a sure sign that she was pissed.

“It's just that I forgot I wanted to take you for a ride after dinner, but if that's a problem...” he trailed off.

“That's the best idea you've had all day. I'd love a ride.”

<#<#<#<#

Monroe understood the reason why Buster worried about the gossip distracting everyone at the clubhouse. Every morning, there were bagels, doughnuts and fresh coffee for the workers; most of the workers tended to hang around. There were pass-arounds there too, either just rolling out of bed or rolling in to do something that needed to be done. This morning, all eyes were on him, and all the talk was mumbled so that he couldn't make any of it out, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. He walked over to where the coffee was, poured himself a cup before grabbing a muffin from the counter. Monroe carried both to the back room, where Caroline kept the client files.

He grabbed what he needed, turned and saw Shawn standing there. The prospect was huge but somehow light enough on his feet that he could sneak up on nearly everyone. “Morning, Shawn.”

“Hey, Monroe. I've got the crew outside. Had 'em get here early so that they could eat and not get caught in the rush. We're ready to roll when you are.”

“I just came back to grab the documents and then we can go.” Monroe found the clipboard with ease. “Appreciate you having the crew on time, it makes the job easier.” Shawn was a good worker, a hard worker, who gave his all to the job at hand. No doubt, it was one of the reasons why Buster had decided to give his name to prospect. While Monroe had been unsure of the choice at first, he had to admit that the man was quickly becoming an asset to them.

“Yeah, well we've got our work cut out for us on this one. That place is a disaster. I went by last night and took another look around. The rot on the first floor has gotten worse.”

“You did a walk through on your own time?” Monroe was impressed. Shawn didn't have much free time as a prospect, the only prospect. He did all the shit work no one else would do, spent most nights at the clubhouse running the bar on top of working for Nightshade Construction, which was a long, hard day.

Shawn shrugged. “I head home that way. Figured why not.”

“If the floor rot is worse, we might have to rethink our approach for the rehab and the addition.” Monroe downed the rest of his coffee so that he could grab another cup on the way out. “Let's get this done.”

Chapter Nineteen.

“Don't open that cooler,” Drea cried out as she entered the kitchen. It was an hour until everyone would arrive, and she was sure that she was forgetting something.

“I just wanted a beer,” Monroe said, hand still hovering above the handle.

“That's not beer, it's corn on the cob.”

“Corn on the cob in a cooler? What the hell is up with that?”

“You put it in with boiling water, let it sit, and the heat cooks the corn,” Drea explained. “The beer is outside in the kiddie pools full of ice. Don't you need to do something with the grill to get it ready?” She had lost track of all the things that needed to be done. People would be arriving soon. Was there enough toilet paper in the bathrooms? Panic made her think she might puke.

“It's propane, hon. All I've got to do is flip a switch, and we are good to go.” He leaned back against the counter. “You need help with anything else?”

“I've still got to get everything into the serving dishes.”

“We own serving dishes?”

“We do now,” she said with a smirk. “We've got lots of pretty new things that you need to throw a party.”

“Did you use the card?”

“Don't worry, I paid out of my own money,” Drea said, suddenly feeling defensive and glad that she'd reached for her own debit card and not the credit card he'd given her.

“Why? I gave you that card for whatever you needed for the house or party or whatever.”

“I don't know why, habit?” She moved over to the fridge, took out the containers of potato salad, pasta salad and coleslaw. The serving dishes were in the small pantry, so she set the food down and went to get them. “Feels weird for you to pay for things that I want.”

“Why? We are married, hon.”

“I know. It's probably weird that I feel weird.” Drea focused her attention on setting out the bowls for the salad.

“Good thing I already knew that you were weird,” he teased as he came over to stand behind her. “How long before everyone gets here?”

“Not long enough for what you're thinking. And for the record, I'm not weird. Wait, am I really weird?”

“You are weird in the best possible ways.”

“Like what?” Drea set down the bowl of coleslaw and turned to face him. “Tell me.”

“It's nothing bad. It's just we do things different, so some stuff you do, I don't get. Like for example, what is the deal with you and folding sheets?”

“It's not a thing. You're supposed to fold sheets, not ball them up and toss 'em into the linen closet.”

“I could spend three hours trying to fold a sheet and not get it.”

“Which is why I'm happy to fold the sheets, which apparently makes me weird.” Drea felt relief that it was something so simple he found weird, not something really personal.

“Weird in the best possible way, if that helps at all.”

The doorbell rang. “Look at that, you just got saved by the bell. Someone is early. We'll finish up this conversation about how I'm weird later.”

“I love you.”

“I love you right back,” she said before turning her attention back to the task at hand. Drea realized that she still hadn't changed from the yoga pants and stretchy tee shirt she'd cooked, and slept, in. Her hair was tossed up in the messiest possible knot on the top of her head. She seriously needed to change. Why did someone have to be early?

“Drea,” Monroe called out. “Come here, please.”

There was a tightness to his voice that sent a tingle down Drea's spine. Immediately she set down the bowl she was holding. A fleeting thought ran though her mind of getting a weapon, but there wasn't one stashed in the kitchen, or even the living room. Her gun was upstairs.

The last person she expected to see standing in the open doorway Alton, but there he was. Monroe had apparently been carrying his gun, because it was trained on the blonde man. “Hello, Drea,” Alton said, smiling as if there wasn't a loaded gun pointed his way. “I probably should have called first.”

“That would have been nice.” Drea closed the distance between her and the men. She looked over at Monroe, met his eyes, and he lowered the gun with a nod. “What's going on, Alton?”

“I was in town, anxious to see if you'd given any more thought to my offer.”

“How did you know that I was here?” Drea asked. Alton looked a little offended at the question, as if she should have figured out already that he, and the lenders, would have a fix on where she was living. “Okay, stupid question. As far as your offer, I'm considering it. We should set a meeting. I have questions.”

“Of course, at your convenience. I plan on being in town for a while. I'm not sure what it is, but it's growing on me here. I can see why you like it. I'll get out of your hair; I didn't realize I'd be interrupting a party. I nearly forgot that congratulations were in order. Marriage seems to suit the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Drea replied.

“I'll be in touch, Drea. Have a good time today.”

“Why don't you stay?” Monroe spoke up. “There's plenty to eat and drink. Drea's been cooking for two days.”

Drea was nearly sure that she'd heard Monroe wrong because he couldn't possibly be inviting Alton to the party, but then Alton smiled widely and nodded. “I'd like that very much,” he said. “I hate to show up empty handed. Perhaps one of you could point me to the nearest liquor store, I can remedy that.”

“Go down three blocks, make a left, a right and then keep straight.” Drea gave the directions quickly. “This is hard liquor crowd,” she added.

“Thank you for the directions and the invitation. I can't tell you what it means to me.” Alton turned away, back towards his car.

Drea waited until Monroe closed the door. “Why did you invite him?”

“So that I can get a read on him,” Monroe replied. “If you're really thinking about a partnership with him, I want to know more about him, and you should, too. What better way that during a nice, relaxed Sunday afternoon party?”

“It's Sunday afternoon, but as for the rest, I'm not sure that nice or relaxed are going to happen. Don't you think it'll be awkward as all hell? How do we introduce him?”

“Alton expects that everyone will already know who he is. He's a cocky fucker.”

“Why do you say that?”

“My gut,” he replied shortly. “Trust me, it'll be good.”

<#<#<#<#

There were people everywhere, eating, talking and laughing just like at every other Nightshade cookout or dinner Drea had ever been at. Leo, Javi and Zoe were running around the yard, chased by the huge brown pit bull, Chopper, who'd come along with Amelia and Shane. Joshua was sitting off by himself, eyes glued to a tablet in his hands.

“Earth to Drea.”

Drea turned her head at the sound of Jillian's voice. “Sorry, I was just thinking that I probably should have made more food.”

“These guys do eat like a marauding horde,” she admitted. “Don't worry, if we run out, I'll have Ace make a Gino's run. You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“Bullshit,” Sandra said from where she sat across the table. “You've been jumpy and nursing a single bottle of beer for the past hour. Everything okay?”

Drea knew that the question came from a place of concern; she could see it on Sandra's face. The look was present in every face at the table. The Nightshade old ladies weren't a stupid bunch. Alton's presence had literally raised some eyebrows. “I guess I'm just nervous, throwing my first party and all.”

“Everyone is having a great time. You did good,” Caroline told her. “The food is amazing, too.”

“If everyone keeps cooking like this, I'm going to have to start taking classes or something. Train's never made sex noises when eating my potato salad,” Meg said with a laugh. “Caroline's ruined them for my baking. Last week, I made brownies. I ran to the store, came back and the entire tray was gone along with a half gallon of milk. They said, and I quote, they were the best brownies I'd ever made.”

“That sounds like they liked them,” Meg said.

“Sounds like it, but when I took the trash out the next day, I found them in the garbage bin,” Meg said with a bitter chuckle.

“I can ban them from the bakery as punishment,” Caroline offered.

“I need my lawn mowed and yard work done if you want them to work up an appetite.” Amelia shifted in her chair as Shane began to cry. She took him from his carrier seat. Drea felt something inside her clench as she watched Amelia smile at her blonde-haired boy. She held him in one hand and unbuttoned her shirt with the other. The little boy let out a contented sigh as he latched on.

“I can make dinner and invite you all over,” Jillian added. “They'd have to eat whatever I made, and that's punishment of it's own.”

“Don't say that, Jillian. I love your eggplant parm. And Ace never stops raving about your chili,” Caroline said kindly.

“I buy my eggplant parm in the frozen section,” Jillian replied.

“I like the frozen section,” Amelia chimed in. “Since it's just me, it's easier.” She stroked her fingertips over her son's hair.

“Listen to us, being all domesticated and shit,” Sandra said. “I need a refill. Anyone else want anything?”

“I'll get the drinks.” Drea got to her feet. “It looks like we need more chips and stuff anyway.”

“Want a hand?” Jillian offered.

“I've got it. Sit. Relax. I'll be back in a minute.” She walked through the yard, into the house. Once alone in the kitchen, she leaned back against the counter and sighed.

So far, Alton being there wasn't even a ripple. After the awkward introduction phase, where it was obvious that everyone knew who Alton was and vice versa, they'd settled into having a good time.

The back door opened and Monroe walked in. “What are you doing hiding in here?”

“Not hiding, I'm just catching my breath before I bring out more chips. You look like you're having a good time.”

“I am,” he confirmed. “I've got to admit, Alton isn't at all what I expected. I'm not sure I like that I kind of like him.”

“This was your idea,” Drea reminded him. “Are we out of chips? I thought that there was another bag on top of the fridge.”

“I put that out earlier.”

“I need to run to the store and get more.”

“No, you don't. There's plenty of food without the chips. What you need to do is relax.”

“Why does everyone keep saying I need to relax? I am relaxed, thank you very fucking much,” Drea fumed. “And we can't just not have chips if people want chips. I'm going to run to the store.”

“It's chips. It's not that serious.”

“We're also nearly out of soda, there's only a case of beer left and...” Drea's next words were lost as Monroe's mouth covered hers. She'd been so involved in her rant that she hadn't even noticed he'd moved close enough to do so. His hands moved to her hips, held her close and tight to him until she relaxed into his hold and began to return the kiss. All thought, and worry, fled from her mind. Suddenly all there was in the world was his mouth hungrily on hers.

He pulled back, smoothed his hands over her hair. “I very much doubt that we're going to finish that case. Things seem to winding down. If we do, we'll deal with it. It's not the end of the world. Now, I haven't seen you eat a thing, so we're going outside and you're going to eat. And once everyone is gone, we're going to go upstairs, get naked and go to sleep.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

<#<#<#<#

“The coffee is done. Do you want some?” Casey spoke from the open door of Drea's office.

Drea looked up from her computer screen. “Yes, please.” The contract for a new performer, a guy named King D. Dong, really needed her review, but she was worried about Casey. She'd refused the invitation to the cookout, even though Caesar was going to be there, and she'd called in sick to work on Monday and Tuesday. “I'll come out and get it. I could use a break.”

“Okay,” Casey replied as she turned back towards the main office, formerly the show floor of Love and Lace, where her desk was. Jillian had a desk out there now, too. There was a small refreshment area, with a fridge, microwave and coffee maker.

“Do you want a cup?”

“I've already got one. I'm going in to tackle my email.” The blonde walked directly to her desk, put her ear buds in and focused on her computer.

Drea poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbed one of the pastries Jillian had brought with her when she arrived, and watched Casey studiously stare at her screen. Her intention was to go over and demand Casey tell her what was going on, but when she looked over to Jillian, Jillian shook her head.

“Drea, someone named Matt called while you were on the phone. He didn't leave a number, just said to tell you that he'd called.”

“What number came up when he called?” Drea hoped she sounded calmer than she felt. There was only one Matt who would call her and not leave a number. Even with no clue as to what he wanted, she realized that it couldn't be good.

“It came up restricted,” Jillian replied. “Was it important?”