Talkin' Trash (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 2)

My mother hadn’t given me the time I normally needed to make myself presentable, and since I was told this was being held outside, I hadn’t bothered with anything more than jean shorts and a t-shirt that said ‘cheer’ across the breasts, though I hadn’t cheered a day in my life.

I swallowed thickly and turned away, following my mother and Steel into the very beautiful house.

But it didn’t have anything special about it. Though the outside was very nice, the inside made it seem more like a vacation rental rather than someone’s actual residence.

Which coincided with Steel’s explanation that this was their clubhouse—a place where they hung out, but rarely ever stayed at. The reason for today’s party was that a couple of men from other chapters were coming in for the week for some reason that I hadn’t been privy to.

I suddenly felt that feeling that one gets when someone is staring a hole through them. I was surprised to find that it was the teenager with the beard…and tattoos.

My God, he had tattoos everywhere.

I felt my stomach dip as our gazes caught and felt something akin to excitement start to course through my veins.

Steel’s face split into a wide smile as he threw his arms around the man and said, with great affection, “Linc!”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could barely keep my knees from knocking together.

“Linc,” Steel said, stepping away from him and shifting sideways to allow Linc to see us more fully. “This is my woman, Winnie, her daughter, Conleigh, and Cody, her son.”

My eyes widened at hearing Steel say my mother was ‘his woman.’

Linc caught both and started to chuckle. “Y’all could pass as sisters.”Chapter 2If you drink a gallon of water a day, you’ll be too busy pissing to worry about other people’s problems.

-Nutrition Fact

Linc

I was still pissed off about the text Conleigh had sent me eight hours later.

Since we’d lost the game, we were no longer in the running for the playoffs, and were officially off until next season began, leaving me with not a goddamn thing to do but think about how much that girl pissed me off.

Instead of dwelling on how she always knew just how to press my freakin’ buttons, I did the one thing that I knew would piss her off even more. I called her mom.

Finding her name in my contacts, I pressed go and put it to my ear.

“Hello, Lincoln,” Winnie Cross, Conleigh’s mother, drawled. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She knew exactly what I was going to ask.

I sighed. “Is it time yet?”

Winnie laughed. “You know what he’s going to say.”

Eight years ago, when I met Conleigh, I was warned away from Conleigh by none other than Steel Cross, the president of the Alabama chapter of the Dixie Wardens MC.

Normally, I would’ve completely ignored anyone and anything that got in the way of what I wanted, but it was hard to tell my father’s club president that he could go fuck himself and that I was going after his new stepdaughter anyway.

So, instead, I’d become friends with her when that was the very last thing I wanted to do.

A few years after meeting Conleigh, and the same day that I’d been drafted to my team, I joined the Texas branch of the Dixie Wardens MC. However, when we’d gotten to Bear Bottom, the residents had started calling us the Bear Bottom MC, and it had just kind of stuck. We’d officially changed our name six months later, despite the anger and uprising that it had caused our fathers—original members of the Dixie Wardens.

But, we’d decided that we didn’t want to follow in our fathers’ shadows and found that the best way to do that was not to use the Dixie Wardens’ name at all but to instead go with Bear Bottom Guardians MC. Of course, our loyalty was with the Dixie Wardens MC, and we’d always have their backs if they needed us—but we were branching off on our own into something entirely new. In a show of respect, we had a Dixie Wardens MC rocker added onto our cuts. We still referred to ourselves as the Guardians, though.

Which was still kind of rough on all of the old timers that had put the Dixie Wardens on the map, so to speak.

There was Silas Mackenzie, the president of the Benton, Louisiana chapter. There was Gordon McGrew, the president of the Little Rock, Arkansas chapter. Oh, and my personal favorite—the man who liked to make my world a living hell by denying me what I wanted so dearly, Steel Cross, aka Big Papa, who was the president of the Mooresville, Alabama chapter.

Those three men had been downright pissed that we didn’t take the Dixie Wardens’ name and had almost gone so far as to demand that we use it or not be affiliated with them at all.