Mean Machine (The Untouchables MC 2)

The phone beeped again.

Morey lifted his head and glared at me.

“Sorry, Your Highness.”

I was getting text after text, rapid fire. All from Cassandra. I didn’t feel like texting so I called her instead.

“Hey Cass. What’s up?”

“Mason! Oh thank God. Where have you been?”

“We were open late last night.”

She fell silent.

“You okay, kid?”

“I think so?”

“What is it? Is my Goddaughter okay?”

“She’s fine. It’s Connor.”

“What about him?”

“He’s been distant lately. Staying out all hours.”

I sighed. Cass was pregnant again. It made her paranoid.

And as much as I hated to admit it, Connor worshipped her. There was no way he was stepping out on her. He was probably just working a case.

“Come on, Cass. Do you really think that man would cheat on you?”

I could almost hear her pouting on the other end of the line.

“No…”

“And?”

“He knows you would chop him up and barbecue him if he did.”

“Exactly. The man loves you. He has never been much of a ladies man, even before you.”

“Hmmmff.”

I chuckled, imagining her with her big belly and an obstinate look on her face.

“Do you want to have lunch?”

She perked up immediately. No one loved food as much as Cass.

“Today?”

“Yeah, come by the joint later.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an attempt to get me to pick up a shift?”

“No, Cass. I hired someone last night. She’s taking every shift she can.”

“Oh, really? Is she in love with you yet?”

I tried to imagine what that would look like. Michelle making eyes at me. Michelle bringing me drinks and snacks I didn’t ask for. Her dropping her pencil and bending over slowly to get my attention.

For once in my life, I actually found that idea appealing.

“No. She’s not like that.”

“Like what?”

“She’s not frivolous.”

“Ohhhh.”

I could hear the smile in her voice. I scowled in response.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I’ll see you at one.”

“Drive safe.”

She hung up and I sighed. It was time to extricate myself from the small, warm, somewhat dangerous creatures draped all over me. They did this every year when it started getting cold outside. But I knew they would forgive me when I opened their food can.

“Sorry guys.”

They both gave me dirty looks but were soon trotting after me to the kitchen, where another hungry mouth was waiting. I’d walked the dog at six AM, like usual. But I’d crawled back into bed after giving everyone a little food. My animals were spoiled, with at least four meals a day.

Some of them homemade.

Scrambled eggs in particular were a favorite. But I mixed it with a little chicken liver or steak. It was extra work but it was good for them. I loved the furry little bastards and they knew it.

They coiled around my legs as I prepped another meal.

A half an hour later everyone was walked, petted and fed. I was clean and showered. I’d even trimmed my beard and put some of that gooey styling stuff Cass got me in my hair. I held a shirt up against my chest. I could go with the typical black t-shirt under my leather jacket, or with a button down… I had a few, even a couple of flannels.

This was embarrassing. I was a grown man. I frowned, deciding to blame Cass for this situation. She had bought me too many shirts.

If I didn’t have all these options I wouldn’t be worried about what to wear like a teenage girl.

Not even a teen.

I felt like an insecure pre-teen!

I scowled and went for the t-shirt option. My only concession was I wore one of my favorite ones. It was a soft black cotton, perfectly worn it with the club emblem emblazoned on it.

Even though there was no way in hell I was going to pursue a girl who worked for me, I did not want to look like a chump in front of her. And this way, my cards were on the table. There would be no doubt about who and what I was.

I was a badass biker, not a knight in shining armor.

Cheeto jumped onto the dresser and put his paws on my chest for a hug. It was the damnedest thing, but so cute it made your insides turn to goo.

I laughed, rumpling his fur.

“Thought my shirt needed some orange fur for luck, eh buddy?”

He purred and rubbed his chin into my hand. I pressed a kiss to his furry little forehead and set him on the floor. There was no disciplining them but I didn’t care. They knew who ruled the roost. I was simply the opener of cans, scratcher of ears and the primary heat generator.

I slipped on my jacket and looked back at the three adoring faces watching me. They hated it when I left, but I was pretty sure they forgot about five minutes later. I shook my head. These little guys kept me sane. I hadn’t rescued them. They’d rescued me.