He sighed, pissed at himself that he hadn’t. Actually, more like he couldn’t.
But what he needed right now was to smoke a fatty and down a few shots of whiskey.
Luckily, a fire still burned strong in the center fireplace since he needed to thaw his bones, too. Being the middle of the night at the end of February, it didn’t take long for his nuts to go into hibernation.
A warm, skilled mouth could easily coax them back down.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t find that tonight since church was quiet. Sweet butts weren’t allowed in The Barn or the bunkhouse during a church meeting and, if any had shown up afterward, they were already warming someone else’s bed.
The only one who would be keeping Rook warm tonight was Cujo. And he wasn’t big enough to even keep his fucking foot warm. Worse, the little shit preferred to sleep on his very own pillow by Rook’s head. Just like when they’d been at Jet’s.
Jet hadn’t minded Cujo in her bed but then, she hadn’t minded Rook in her bed, either. And the asshole dog was probably a better choice for a companion.
He went behind the bar and grabbed an already half-kicked bottle of Jack. After patting his pockets to make sure he had his tin and lighter, he went over to the fire and settled on one of the bus benches. He kicked his feet up onto the ledge of the stone hearth and zoned out for a few seconds as he stared into the flickering flames.
Cujo began to do his typical frenzy of barking and circling Easy’s ankles as the man approached.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Rook yelled.
“If that fucker latches onto my ankle, he’s gonna find himself launched to the moon by my boot,” Easy said in warning.
“Won’t be the first time. But just an FYI, he don’t forgive and forget. You might find a few chocolate-covered raisins hidden in your boots when you least expect them. Motherfucker loves gettin’ revenge.”
Easy grinned and settled next to Rook, propping his boots up on the ledge, too. He gripped a full bottle of tequila in one hand and lifted his chin at the tin Rook now had balanced on his thigh. “Gonna burn one?”
“One. Two. Maybe even three.”
Easy did his typical soft, easy laugh. “Gonna be comatose if you burn three by yourself.”
“Ain’t by myself, now am I?”
Easy grinned and shook his head, his long, light brown hair falling loose around his shoulders. “Fuck no. Break it out.”
E tipped the tequila bottle to his lips as Rook pulled some Kush out of his tin and filled a rolling paper with the beautiful bud to prepare a fatty. After rolling it, he licked the edge of the paper to seal it shut, tucked it between his lips and lit it. Once it was burning smoothly and he’d taken a couple of hits, he passed it over to Easy, who sighed, leaned back and stretched out. “This is the fuckin’ life, ain’t it?”
“Would be if we didn’t have those Deliverance wannabes creating havoc.”
“Yeah,” E breathed before taking a long hit on the joint. He blew the smoke out toward Cujo, who tucked his tail and went scurrying away from the stream of smoke like it was a ghost chasing him. “Yeah, other than those fuckers, this goddamn life is fuckin’ perfect. Don’t need anythin’ else.”
A deep aching need for something else had been eating at Rook. For someone else, more like it. Someone he needed to forget. He was proud of himself that he’d resisted her for the last two weeks.
She was a headache that aspirin wouldn’t cure.
He twisted the cap off the Jack and lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a long swallow. He let the whiskey warm his insides and after a few moments, his nuts began to peek out from their hiding spot deep within his body cavity.
“So goddamn lucky to have found this fuckin’ paradise,” Easy murmured. After taking one more hit and passing the joint back to Rook, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes.
Everyone knew where Rook came from. He was the son of an Original. He and Cage had been born and raised in this town. But Rook had no idea where Easy came from or why he ended up in Manning Grove prospecting for the club.
Everyone had their own reason for wanting to be a part of the Fury and if the man wanted to share that reason with Rook, he’d listen. If he didn’t, Rook wouldn’t get bent about it.
Everyone in that club had their secrets, too.
Right now, Rook’s was the black-haired, blue-eyed, badge-wearing, frustrating, hot as fuck, dick-hardening woman.
As he stared into the fire, the image of Jet on her knees with her hands cuffed behind her back, taking his dick doggy-style with his thumb fucking her tight ass showed up in the flames.