“Your turn for what?” Shay asked Ozzy.
“He’s just talkin’ outta his ass, that’s all,” he assured her.
Deacon stood, still grinning. “Let me or Trip know when that proposal’s ready. Have Ozzy email it to us.” He laughed even louder at that and walked away. Justice scrambled from under the table, the bulldog’s tail held up like a boat’s rudder as he waddled after his owner.
“You got email now?” Trip asked with a smirk.
She twisted her head toward Ozzy. “Doesn’t the motel have an email address?”
“It will soon,” he muttered.
“Once it does, someone’s gotta teach him how to use it,” Trip threw over his shoulder as he walked out the door. “Better add that cost to the proposal. Though, I’m thinkin’ you’ll end up payin’ for that one, Shay, but with your patience and not money. Hope you got a lot of it. You’re gonna need it.”
That was one thing Ozzy wouldn’t argue.
Video game consoles were one thing, computers were another.
Chapter Thirteen
Shay followed Ozzy down the stairs, eager to start working on the proposal. The work Trip discussed would take her weeks to finish if he approved. It would not only keep her busy but put a nice fat deposit into her bank account.
“Want a drink?”
“To celebrate?” Shay asked as they reached the first floor.
“Yeah. To celebrate. That’s a good excuse to drink.”
She glanced around the lower level of the building. “Do you mind if I set up my laptop and start working on—”
“Ain’t workin’ tonight. Worked all day. Tonight you relax.”
Well, then. “I have rent to pay in an overpriced apartment.”
“Give it up.”
Give it up? Give what up? Her apartment? “Oh sure. It’s that easy. There’s something called a lease. But I plan on moving as soon as it’s up since there’s no reason for me to stay in Boston any longer. I can move somewhere more reasonably priced.”
“Like Manning Grove,” he stated and moved behind the bar.
Manning Grove hadn’t been on her short list of places to move. It was fine to visit but she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to move back.
“What d’you wanna drink?”
She climbed onto the stool across the bar from him. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You sure ‘bout that?”
“Are you going to try to get me drunk and take advantage of me?” she teased.
“Gonna do the second, but not the first. Want you to remember everythin’ I do to you tonight.”
A shiver of anticipation shot through her. She also wanted to remember it all. So far, this trip has been one she’d never forget, thanks to the man currently pouring two shots and two beers.
She glanced once more around what Ozzy had called The Barn. He said it was the MC’s clubhouse and that some of his brothers lived in the rear. The bunkhouse Trip had mentioned.
The Barn was currently empty and quiet. She wondered how many members the MC had and how many lived onsite.
The club president had said he didn’t want to sell any merchandise because the club was family and he didn’t want anyone else wearing their colors. Shay had found that interesting. The way Ozzy, Trip and Deacon had interacted with one another did remind her of siblings busting on each other and getting into scraps. Just like brothers would.
“Where did Trip and Deacon go? They seemed to have disappeared.”
Ozzy shrugged and placed a pint of draft beer in front of her and set a shot glass full of what looked like whiskey next to it. “Dependin’ on where Stella’s at, Trip either went to Crazy Pete’s or up to the house.”
“The house?”
He placed another beer and shot glass in front of the stool next to her and came around the bar. “They live up the lane in the farmhouse we passed.”
“Oh, it’s really cute.”
“And Dickon probably headed home to Mansfield.”
“Deacon lives in Mansfield?” That college town was only about twenty minutes away.
“He lives upstairs in one of the apartments. His ol’ lady’s got a mountain house he can’t get her to let go of, so he spends weeknights there with her. They spend weekends here on the farm. A compromise between them and also with Trip since he prefers everyone live on the property or close.”
“Oh, interesting. I considered going to Mansfield U., but decided it was best to get away from this area. What does she do?”
He settled on the stool next to her. “Some kinda attorney.”
“You don’t know what kind?”
“The kind that argues.”
She laughed and made sure she didn’t hide it from him. “I think they all do that.”
“She’s a fuckin’ expert at it.”
The way he said that made her ask, “You don’t like her?”
“Love her ‘cause she’s got Dick’s balls in a vise.”
“She’s a ball-buster?”
“She’s somethin’.”
“Maybe she needs a website, too.”
Ozzy lifted his shot glass and held it in the air. “I’ll ask her. But knowin’ her, she’s already got one and it’s fuckin’ on point.” He jerked his chin at her whiskey.