Copper (Hell's Handlers MC 4)

“What? You knocked up your woman so now you’re some kinda relationship expert?”

All the teasing left Jig’s eyes. He rubbed a hand over the scar on his face. “No, brother, but I am an expert in regret. What they say is true. Life’s fucking short. And it can be snuffed out way too fast.”

Copper grunted, shifting his gaze to the window. Every few seconds a car drove by. People going on about their lives, dealing with their own problems. Jig’s words hit him hard. He’d wanted Shell for years, both in his life and in his bed. But he’d vowed to himself he’d never act on those feelings.

Sixteen years was not only a lot in number but in life experience. He’d seen and done shit that would gray Shell’s hair. Not that she’d had any kind of easy, charmed life, but still…

She was twenty-four. In ten years, she’d still be in her early thirties, and he’d be fifty. Would she lose interest? These questions were a waste of time. His mind was made up.

Shell would remain a close friend, family. Nothing more.

“What the hell did you track me down for, anyway?” Copper asked.

Jig’s eyes slid to Beth. “You talk to Z this afternoon? He had something to run by you.”

“Nah, haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

With a nod, Jig said, “Okay, ears are too small around here. I’ll get with you after you talk to him.”

Interesting. “I’ll try to catch him later.”

“Yeah, Prez. That looks fu-flipping good. Think I’ll grab some and go surprise my woman. Since I have one and all.”

“You’re so witty,” Copper said, flipping Jig off when Beth was focused on her treat.

“See ya, squirt,” he said to Beth.

“Bye, Jig! I love you!”

Jig ruffled her hair and headed for the counter.

The shop grew silent except for the sounds of Beth devouring her ice cream. As Copper watched Jig stroll out to his bike, he allowed his mind to wander. Even with his verbal blunder that morning, the day had been pretty fucking good. Damn, he couldn’t wait to see Rusty.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he spilled his guts to Shell earlier. It was true, not everyone in the club was a Rusty fan. He could be a dick at times, but couldn’t they all? He’d never told anyone, but Copper felt guilty as fuck when Rusty had been arrested. He’d felt responsible. Had he screwed up raising Rusty? Did growing up in the sometimes volatile MC life screw him up? The guilt stayed with him through the five years Rusty had been incarcerated and never once had he voiced a peep about his feelings.

Until today.

And just the simple response from Shell, just her telling him she had faith he’d done his best lifted some of the weight off his shoulders. Shell’s comment had been sincere. She wasn’t one to blow smoke up his ass. It’d been nice to be able to unpack even a tiny bit of baggage. As much as he trusted his men, and especially those in his exec board, he didn’t confide his personal shit in them. As president, he wanted to portray a confident, controlled, capable man at all times. Until he’d unloaded on Shell, he hadn’t realized how lonely it could sometimes be at the top. Or how good it could feel to have a woman soothe the worries.

Shit, he was losing his fucking mind. Sounding like a total pussy.

“All done!” Beth announced, holding her empty cup for Copper to see. She still munched the cone. “What’s next?”

Copper glanced at his watch. Plan was to give Shell three hours of peace and quiet. “Clubhouse?”

“Yes!” Beth shouted. “Maverick promised to draw on my arm. Like a tattoo. So I can look like him.”

Copper chuckled. “Okay, but nothing crazy. Remember, I’m not trying to get in trouble with your mom.”

“Okay. We’ll just do a little bit of tattoos.”

“Good, princess. Let’s roll out.” If only dealing with all women was this easy.

CHAPTER FIVE

A MISSED SHIFT at work was a major concern in Shell’s paycheck-to-paycheck world. Missing two shifts was one step away from catastrophic. But she was a mother first and foremost, and that meant the occasional sleepless night, sick child, and call-out from work.

And was last night ever one of those sleepless nights. Three days after Copper’s birthday party, Beth had been feverish, restless, and cranky as all get out. She’d woken up fussy nearly every hour on the hour. Shell managed a grand total of two hours sleep then had to placate a sick and very grouchy child all day long. Finally, around four in the afternoon, after two rounds of vomit, three back to back viewings of Frozen, a few battles over Tylenol, and four loads of laundry, the fever broke, and Beth started to feel a little better. She’d passed out at five o’clock and was still out cold over three hours later. With any luck, she wouldn’t make an appearance until morning.