Crash (Evil Dead MC 2)

“Nope.”

“So, I could…?”

“Nope.”

Shane smiled. “Message received. She’s off limits.”

“She seems like a real sweetheart,” Jake commented.

Crash tilted his drink up, scooping out an ice cube. Crunching on it, he grinned. “You ain’t seen the bitch come out yet.”

“Oh, really?”

“Stick around. She’ll show up.”

“Yeah, but she’s a fucking knockout. Babe looks like that, she’s worth putting up with bitchy,” Jake suggested.

Crash shook his head. “Crazy’s worth putting up with. Bitchy? No.”

Ten minutes later, Shannon returned to the table, the brunette and blonde in tow. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet Shane and Jake. They’ve just returned from Afghanistan. Boys, this is Lauren and Heather.”

Shane stood up off his barstool. Taking the blonde’s hand, he kissed it. “Heather, nice to meet you. Won’t you sit down?” He offered her his stool.

Crash watched as Jake did the same. Then he looked over and caught the self-satisfied smile Shannon threw him as she slid back onto her stool. He raised his glass and murmured, “Nice work, matchmaker.”

“What do you do?” the blonde asked.

“I drive an ice cream truck.”

“Right.”

“Okay, seriously, it’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but you girls look like sweet girls. You wouldn’t laugh at me, would you?”

The blonde innocently shook her head.

“I’m a Dolphin waxer.”

“And what does a dolphin waxer do?” she asked naively.

“Dolphins in captivity need to be waxed so their skin won’t disintegrate.”

Shannon and Crash looked at each other, trying to keep a straight face. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “It’s a pretty convincing story if you’re a young, naïve, and tipsy girl. Especially, considering she is a blonde.”

Shannon elbowed him in the gut under the table.

“And what do you do?” the redhead asked Jake.

“I man an ATM machine.”

She frowned, “Huh?”

“I sit inside and dole out money when people put their cards in.”

“I’m not anywhere near that naïve, or drunk, for you to try that story,” the redhead replied, rolling her eyes.

“What you don’t believe me?” Jake asked with his hands over his heart. “I’m wounded.”

“What you are is full of shit,” she told him. “Obviously you’re military.”