Che (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 2)

"Or mediocre ones," Sass said, smirking. "They're actually seriously considering my male stripper brother."

To be fair, Saskia's brother was built like a body-builder, and had impeccable sharpshooting skills as well as the cockiness that he'd likely need to join up an already-established MC.

We were all going to spend some time with him during our open house the next month, then come together and decide.

That was the plan for all the possible prospects.

"I'll keep that in mind," Donovan said. "So what have you been up too, Sass?" he asked.

"I was a wheelman until I came back here."

I hadn't really heard her refer to her career in past tense before.

I was going to go ahead and see that as a sign that she was starting to feel a sense of permanence here. With me. With us.

I had to admit, I was happy she was going to officially retire. The idea of her wanting to do 'one last job' or something like that was something that kept me awake at night.

"I bet you were great at that," Donovan said. "You were always one of the best racers I'd ever seen. I still think about the look on Mack's face when you beat him."

"Does anyone have any idea what happened to Mack?" Sass asked.

"He's a car salesman now," Donovan supplied.

"Like luxury cars?" she asked.

"Like Volvos," Donovan said, and everyone shared a look. Sure, they were safe and practical cars. But it must have killed his ex-racer soul to devote his life to selling safe and practical vehicles. "He's got an ex-wife and spends most nights at happy hour."

"Keeping tabs on all of us, huh?" Eddie asked.

"What can I say? I miss those days," Donovan admitted. "That was the height of it all, back then. Something is missing now. Though, if you ask these little shits, they will damn near claim they invented racing," he added, shaking his head. "It's nice to see you all back. Even if it is just for the last time, the last race. You could make a fortune if some of the old timers are here. They will bet heavily on nostalgia. And, either, way, you guys win."

"And, by extension, you," Sass said.

"That's the beauty of it," he agreed. "I'm gonna go see if I can hype this shit up. I'll meet you guys after the race."

With that, he was off, leaving us to catch up with Eddie, watching and critiquing the new drivers.

Then it was time for us.

I hadn't felt nervous behind the wheel of a car in ages. And as I turned on my music, I had to admit that the nervousness wasn't about winning or losing. I didn't care how the race turned out, so long as nothing went wrong. True, it was rare, but it could and did happen on occasion.

My stomach felt like it was in a knot over the idea of anything happening to Saskia after we finally started to build something solid.

It was that anxiety that made my foot a split second too slow on the pedal once the flag fell.

If it was any other racer, that slight mistake wouldn't have meant much. But when it was someone as skilled as Sass? I knew it was over before it even began.

"You better not have let me win," Sass snapped as we climbed out of our cars.

"I would never do that," I assured her. "I guess I've been on my bike too much. So what do you plan to do with all those earnings?" I asked, pulling her into my side, wrapping an arm around her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

"Actually," she said, giving me a shy smile. "I have an idea about that. Maybe we can take a drive after this and talk about it," she suggested, tone cautiously hopeful.

"I'd like that," I told her, curious. Something told me she'd been working on a plan for a while. Which meant she had no plans of going anywhere.

It was another hour and a half before we could untangle ourselves from Eddie and Donovan, and we dropped her car off at Teddy's garage for later, so we could take a drive together.

"So," I asked as we hit a long stretch of abandoned road that gave me a moment of blinding flashbacks I had to work to force away. "What have you been working up in that pretty head of yours?

Saskia

I was nervous.

I was more nervous than I'd been for the race.

After a while, despite all the acting to the contrary in the name of fun and friendly competition, the race ended up only being a fun end to several months of nearness, of having Che all to myself since his days and many of his nights meant sharing him with his brothers.

Fixing up the cars, chasing down spare parts, it had all just been a fun activity, something that I'd needed to help me feel secure in my position in his life.