Rhythm of the Road (Lost Kings MC 16)

Dex punches Jigsaw’s arm. “Real men actually know how to take care of their children.”

“Teller,” Jigsaw shouts. “You braid hair too?”

“I’m not coordinated enough.” He wiggles his fingers in our direction, ending with a middle finger aimed at Jiggy.

Alexa giggles and beams at Shelby.

While I think Alexa, Chance, and Grace are adorable, and I don’t mind spending time with them in small doses, I’ve never really thought about what it might be like to have kids of my own. Never met a woman I’d want to share that responsibility with.

But Shelby, sitting right next to me, being all cute and snuggly with a kid she barely knows and working so hard to fix her little braids just right? Well, fuck if that doesn’t sock me right in the gut.

“Aw, look at Rooster giving Shelby the baby-making eyes,” Ravage coos. “Ain’t that sweet?”

I shoot a glare at him. “What?”

“Yeah, what was that?” Shelby finishes Alexa’s hair and sets her down, laughing as the tyke runs over to hug Chance. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Careful, Shelby, or you’ll end up the oldest mom in your birthing class,” Hope calls down.

“That’s fine by me.” Shelby lifts her hands in the air like she’s praising the baby gods. “Don’t want any until I’m at least thirty-five.”

The guys have a good laugh at that. For some idiotic reason, Jiggy elbows me in the side. When everyone goes back to their conversations, I lean down toward Shelby. “You don’t want kids?”

Her eyes snap to mine. “You do?”

“Not now. Not anytime soon, even. Just…curious.”

She blows out a breath. “Momma’s been drilling it into my head not to get pregnant since I was like fourteen. She had me at seventeen. Had to marry my dad and give up singing.”

“Your mom was a singer too?”

“Oh, heck yeah. I think that’s how they met.”

Huh. That was a lot of information. I run my hand over her leg.

“Sorry, was that more family history than you wanted?”

Sure, that was a lot to take in. But learning something new about this woman every second I’m with her is high on my list of priorities. “Not at all. I want to discover every last detail about you, Shelby.”Chapter Twenty-OneRooster

After breakfast, Shelby jogs upstairs to grab her guitar while I walk outside to inspect Murphy’s truck.

“You sure you don’t mind me borrowing it?” I ask.

“It’s just sitting here. I’ll run it down to Lowe’s every now and then but you might as well use it this weekend if you need it.”

“Appreciate it, brother.”

“No problem.”

“You cool meeting up at Eraser’s place Monday?”

“Yeah, just text me when you’re on your way back.”

Shelby’s squeezing through the front door with her guitar case and I go over to help her. “Ready?”

“Sure am.”

We say goodbye to Murphy and a few of the other brothers before hopping in the truck and heading out.

“Wow, it’s so much prettier during the day,” she says, staring out the window. “And now I know what you meant about Texas having hills not mountains.”

“Glad I could show you around a little.”

“That’s one of my favorite things about being on tour. Seeing so many new places.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I don’t have enough time to stop and appreciate any of them, but I’ve been trying to make notes of where I want to go back and visit one day.”

“What cities made the list?”

“Honestly?” She laughs. “Everywhere.”

“You might be singing a different tune come winter.”

“No doubt.” She stares out the window again. “I’d love to see snow, though. Like real snow. Not that slush-mush we sometimes get.”

“We get plenty of snow up here.”

She glances over. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to—”

“Trying to what?”

“I can’t leave my momma alone around the holidays,” she answers quickly.

Okay, I kinda understand. Although, Shelby’s twenty-two. It’s not unreasonable that she’d spend the holidays somewhere else. I’d say Lynn’s invited too, but something about Shelby’s mood seems to have shifted.

Maybe she’s nervous about the visit we’re about to make?

Ever since I listened to her sing “Empty Room” last night, I haven’t been sure how to bring up the topic of Shelby’s sister. I’ll leave it to her to decide when she’s comfortable talking about it. Her participation with Dream Makers could be related. Maybe that’s a safer topic of conversation.

“So, you do a lot of these visits?”

She turns to look at me. “I wouldn’t say a lot.”

Not much of an answer. We’re a few more miles down the road before I attempt another approach. “Are you nervous?”

“Not really.” She glances at the clock. “How far is the mall from here?”

“A little out of the way but not too bad. Why?”

“Can we swing by? I want to pick up a couple things.”

“Okay.”

Good thing she mentioned it when she did. I hang a quick left and slow my speed on the rolling country roads that eventually lead to the Stonewell Mall.