Willow
Carrots! I have carrots! The tomatoes have come and gone, but now it’s carrot season, and if the huge stalk is any indication, this one’s a whopper. The kind I should get out of the ground and cut up before one of the guys gets some sort of kinky idea. I was determined to make Grandma’s yard produce veggies again, but that it was going to go this well, I didn’t expect.
Part of me wants to go get the guys for the big reveal when I yank this sucker out of the ground, but they’re over at Paige and her boys’ place, setting up for the moving-in barbecue. I think it’s mostly an excuse to get started early on hanging out and drinking beer with Savage, Crank and Poe, because really… how many guys do you need to start a grill? It’s like one knob and one button and off it goes.
At the same time, it’s kind of my moment. The thing I’ve tried to make happen all summer, part of my connecting with my past and the good times I had here when Grandma would make me homemade food with homegrown fruits and veggies while she told me about wild things that happened in the neighborhood. If only she could know how I turned out.
I miss you, Grandma.
Part of me imagines that her spirit is still around, floating around the house and keeping an eye on me, but honestly I hope not. And not just because the idea of my grandmother being there for the things I do with Dragon, Blackout and Skyhigh is positively mortifying.
Even the thought makes me a little queasy, so I push that away hard.
Anyway, also because if there’s an afterlife, I really hope she’s found something better to do than to just sit around watching over me. I’d like to think that there’s more than that to it, if that’s where we go after… well, just after.
Maybe she could just flutter by every once in a while and make sure I’m doing okay. Again, not while the boys are…
I shake my head with a little laugh. Maybe there’s a book idea in there. My Well-hung Trillionaire Ghost Daddies, or something. But mostly I’m just being silly, and there’s a giant carrot to pull out of the ground.
Wrapping my fingers around the stalk, right at the base where a thick chunk of carrot is just barely poking out of the ground, I get a good grip and yank, expecting the resistance of a deeply buried root.
Instead, it just pops out so suddenly that I trip backwards and fall right on my butt. “Ouch!” I yelp as I roll backwards until I’m flat on the ground, the back of my head thumping against the soft grass.
Just as well the boys aren’t here. They’d be asking me if I found another dog or something.
I look at the carrot in my hand. It’s definitely got girth to be proud of. The length, though? Hardly an inch if it is that, even. Thicker than it’s long. So much for putting homegrown carrots in the salad before I bring it over to Paige’s.
Maybe it’s a grower and not a shower?
I snort and toss it in the veggie basket anyway.
Well, this year it’s one stunted carrot. Next year, I’ll have a whole bunch. Carrots, hopefully not stunted.
Luckily, I prepared with store-bought veggies too, and while the salad lacks the orange pop of carrots, there are plenty of other colors in there. A sprinkling of pine nuts and dressing to finish it off, and then I’m off.
If I have any kind of PTSD from the whole Tanner incident, it’s at the front door. I always feel like there’s going to be someone waiting for me on the other side, and it’s stupid, because there’s no reason that there would be, but my brain is being stupid. Especially if I’m home alone, which honestly, doesn’t happen often these days, but the boys do have their club duties.
But Blackout installed a peephole into the door at a convenient height for me, with a fisheye lens so I get a good view of the porch. I love that instead of talking down my little things, the guys just say, “Okay,” and then go and help me work with them.
The coast is clear, so I pop open the door, slip out with my big glass bowl of salad, and then bump the door shut with my butt. Getting the bowl precariously under one arm, I lock the door and then walk down my neighborhood street to Paige’s brand new house. That makes four inhabited houses in what is still a bit of a ghost town of a neighborhood, but maybe more of the Sons will want to move down here, or end up with old ladies of their own and need the space. It’s a bit of a harem club here now, to be honest. Maybe we can rename the street to Harem Lane or something.
Still giggling about that, I ring the doorbell with my elbow. It’s Jess who opens.
“Oh my God, why are you ringing the doorbell? You’re family. Come one through, everyone’s in the backyard. And give me that!” She yanks the big bowl out of my arms and carries it into the house, leaving it up to me to follow and close the front door.
Family. I love that. I love my parents, I really do, but I never really understood what belonging really meant until now. My friends, the club—Blackout, Dragon and Skyhigh.
The club did a great job restoring the house, just like they did with Bonnie and Anne’s place, and Jess’s place. Maybe I should get them to do mine too. It still looks a little like Grandma lives there, though it’s changed a lot after the guys moved in, with exercise equipment, bike magazines and a whole row of leather jackets hanging inside the front door. On the other hand, all the little bits of her that are left help me connect. It’s cozy, and it’s home.
In the backyard, Tex and Crank are shirtless, looking really good while throwing a football back and forth. Anne’s watching them from the shade of the tent that’s put up for the occasion, looking torn between the kid in her that still wants to play, and the teenager that’s waaaay too cool for throwing a football around. When Bonnie gives her a nudge, Anne shakes her head, and then Bonnie rolls her eyes while Anne isn’t looking. They look like mother and daughter to me, even if it’s not by blood.
Ghost, Savage and Skyhigh have found themselves a shady corner under a tree where they’re seated on plastic lawn chairs, drinking beer and talking about what I’m sure is very important officer stuff. Or motorcycles. One or the other. Blackout seems to be holding some kind of impromptu street fighting course for Jackal, Sinner and Blaze, who seems as quick with her fists as she is flexible with her hips. Whether it’s lap dancing or fist fighting, I guess it’s all about body control.
Poe is hanging out with Lash and Ocean, Paige and Jess are arranging the table with all the food, and Hellfire took the time to come down here and man the grill while chatting with Riot. I guess it makes sense that if you’re in charge of the club, you’re in charge of the grill.
It’s getting crowded back here and I feel like I should be doing something to help, but not sure what.
A pair of powerful arms wrap themselves around me from behind, pulling me back into a hard, shirtless body. Dragon’s deep voice rumbles in my ear, “You finally got here. I was about to go back and look for you.”
Turning into his broad chest, I kiss his pec. “If you came back looking like you do right now, we might not have made it to the party at all.”
There’s a soft growl, deep in his chest, just loud enough that I feel it against my cheek. “It would’ve been a shame, but I would’ve gotten over it.”
“Uh huh.” I pat his side a couple of times before pushing off. “We can play later, when we’re all home.”
He pulls me right back in, cradling me possessively against him. “What if I want you all to myself for a while?” The question drips with dirty promises.
“Be good. It’s a big day for Paige and her boys. We should be supportive.”
“Fine. Just know, I’m gonna be watching you, planning, imagining what I’m gonna do to you when we’re back.” He lets me go, reluctantly, and when I move towards Paige and Jess, he makes a line for Tex and Crank, wanting to get in on the ball throwing.
Paige rests a hand on her swollen belly. Still a little over a month to go, and she’s looking ready to be done with it. She lights up when she sees me. “Willow! Jess said you were here. Everything alright?”
“Probably got caught up writing dirty words about big, nasty bikers with huge dicks.” Jess leans in with a grin. “Am I right? And is it coming out soon?”
I’m not sure if Paige shared it with Poe as something he might like to read, but both she and Jess have read my debut novel, and I had to make them promise not to tell me what they thought. I can handle all the weird reviews that come from random people on the internet that I don’t know, I’m not ready to get pulled over the coals by some of my best new friends. Even if I’m sure they’d be very nice about it.
“It’ll be a little while. Publishing companies move a lot slower than when I was publishing my own books. I’ll let you know.” I gesture at the fully decked out table. “That looks delicious. If I hadn’t experienced first hand how good our boys are at putting away obscene amounts of food, I’d say it was way too much. But I can’t wait to dig in.”
“I expect there’ll be little left by the time we’ve all eaten,” Jess says with a little laugh, then gets distracted as the football lands right at her feet. She picks it up and throws it back. “Watch it! That could’ve landed in the potato salad!”
“Meat’s ready!” Hellfire announces from the grill, and then everyone drops everything. It’s a free-for-all, and I just hang back and wait until it clears out a little. I don’t have a chance against a whole mob of hungry bikers.
After some of the things I’ve been through since I met my guys, this is so ridiculously normal that if you squint and don’t look too hard at the cuts and tattoos, this could be any regular barbecue anywhere. Never mind that everyone of these guys carry a gun and do things outside the law on a regular basis.
And somehow, this is my life.
Who’d have thought that when I moved into Grandma’s house, because it was familiar and all I could afford?
After we’ve all eaten, Paige offers the tour of the new place for anyone who wants it. I’ve already seen it, so I let those who haven’t get a chance. Blackout, Skyhigh and Dragon come over to me, having made the same decision.
“You good?” Blackout’s slight rasp will always give me tingles down my spine.
“I’m awesome.” I smile big at them. “I have food, I have nice weather, and I’ve got three sexy, shirtless club members in front of me who take care of my every whim.”
“We do, huh?”
“You will if you want to get laid tonight.” My smile widens, knowing full well that it’s a threat completely without a bite.
The three of them exchange glances and something passes between them. They have that way of communicating that only people who’ve known each other a long time have. I’m learning, but I still need a little more before I can just straight out decode what just happened.
Dragon crouches next to me, where I’m sitting in the lawn chair. “So if someone offers to strip all your clothes off slowly, kissing every inch of skin as it’s bared, until you’re naked and open to us, you’d still say no?”
Well, when he says it like that… but no, I have to be strong! “I’d still say… no.”
Blackout crouches on the other side, leaning right up to my ear and whispers, “And once you were naked, we’d slip on a blindfold, and all those kisses would turn to licks as we swirled our tongues around your hard nipples, or swiped them through your wet… needy… sweet… little pussy. Or is that something you’d pass up on?”
I swallow hard at that thought, because it’s something I by now know feels absolutely amazing. “Um… no?”
Skyhigh crouches in front of me, pushing me knees apart so he fits between them. I’m completely locked to the intense gaze in his deep blue eyes. “No, you wouldn’t pass up on it, or no, you don’t want that?”
God, I have to think for a second, tracing my way mentally through the double negatives to make sure I’m saying what I mean to say. “I don’t… want that?” I don’t even believe me anymore. If they really decide to turn the heat up, the honest truth is that I won’t say no, no matter how determined I am, because I know exactly how they can make me feel.
“So even if we hold you down, kiss you all over, and give you every long fucking inch of all three of our cocks, that are so fucking hard, just for you, you’d still say no?” He runs his hands up my bare thighs, right to just inside the legs of my shorts. “Really?”
Oh Jeez. They know they’ve got me, and now I’m picturing exactly how that would go down. There are upsides and downsides to having the imagination of an author.
So instead of protesting anymore, I just ask in a meek, even a little embarrassed tone, “Would it be rude to go home now?”
Turns out they don’t think so at all. I’m sure Paige will understand.
(c) Stephanie Brother 2025
