Diamond in the Dust (Lost Kings MC 18)

“Marshmallows?”

“You got it.” He types out a text, then stuffs his phone in his back pocket.

A breeze kicks up and my teeth chatter. I rub my hands over my exposed arms.

“Go inside and change,” Rooster says. “I’m going to hook up things then help Dex start a fire.”

Dex and Steer carry supplies to the approved campfire area, while Pants unloads folding chairs from the back.

Another bike rumbles through the campground while I’m inside changing. I stuff my feet into my fluffy slipper-boots and slip on an oversized hoodie. It’s dark outside and my sweatshirt’s large, so I unhook my bra, breathing a sigh of relief as I wiggle it out from under my shirt and toss it on the bed.

Rooster meets me outside, quickly scanning me from head-to-toe. “Feel better?”

“Yup.”

Somehow, Jigsaw managed to return with bags of food and snacks for everyone. How he carried it all here on his bike, I have no idea. The guys are already joking around and passing drinks when Rooster and I join them by the fire.

“You must be exhausted, Shelby,” Dex says, handing me a small bottle of Sprite.

Shoot, maybe they were hoping I’d go to bed so they could all talk without worrying about offending me.

My expression or my lack of response must betray my thoughts. “I mean,” Dex says, “I can’t believe you’re still standing after your performance and then smiling through all those fan meets.” He waves his hand at a blanket. “Come sit with us.”

Rooster slaps Dex’s back as we pass. He settles onto a thick blanket before pulling me into his lap.

“Incoming!” Jiggy yells.

A second later, a pillowy bag of marshmallows lands on my legs. I squeal and rip into it, and a few marshmallows bounce into the grass. Five second rule applies to grass, right? I pick up the runaways and pop one in my mouth. “Thank you, Jiggy.”

A box of graham crackers and a giant chocolate bar land next to Rooster’s thigh.

“I assumed you wanted to make s’mores,” Jiggy explains.

I’m too busy stuffing more marshmallows in my mouth to answer right away.

Rooster pries the bag out of my hands and pulls out two fluffy, white treats, impaling them on a stick he whittled to a sharp spear.

Cool air rushes over my neck, quickly replaced by Rooster’s warm breath. “You’ll share, right, chickadee?” He kisses right below my ear and I nod.

“I’ll give you anything. Even my marshmallows,” I whisper.

He wraps me up tight, infusing me with his warmth. Jigsaw snatches the stick out of Rooster’s hand and plunges the tip of it into the fire.

“The fuck?” Rooster growls.

“You’re too busy groping your girl to roast these properly,” Jiggy says.

“Careful,” I warn. “I don’t like ‘em super crispy.”

While I’m waiting for him to hand over the goodies, I take the flamingo doll out of my pocket and check it out.

Dex lifts his chin. “That whole scene was pretty cute.”

“I know!” I gush. “Wasn’t she adorable?” I continue examining the doll. “I can’t believe she made this for me.”

“Her mom was smokin’ hot too,” Pants says, leaning over to slap Dex’s arm. “Did you see her? Ass like a juicy peach.”

Dex side-eyes him. “I was too busy doing my actual job to perv on Shelby’s fans.”

“Nine outta ten single moms are hot as fuck,” Jiggy announces.

“Here we go,” I mutter.

“What?” Jiggy stares at me. A smirk teases the corner of his mouth up. “I don’t discriminate. I’d date a single mom.”

Dex tosses a marshmallow at Jiggy’s head. “You date?”

“Well, okay, date maybe isn’t the right word.” Jiggy hands me the stick of toasty marshmallows. “I’m trying to be polite for Shelby’s sake.”

“Don’t sugarcoat things on my account,” I mumble around my mouthful of sweet, sticky goodness.

“I don’t discriminate on marital status,” Jiggy elaborates. “And there are an abundance of reasons to hook up with single moms.”

“This should be gold,” Dex says, sitting up and resting his chin on his hand. “Please share your wisdom with us, Professor Fuckwit.”

Jigsaw holds up a hand and begins counting. “One, single moms always have the best snacks at their place.”

“Seriously?” Rooster mutters.

“Two,” Jigsaw continues, ignoring Rooster, “they’re usually busy, so they’re efficient with their time. No blowing up my phone with texts asking me where I am or what I’m doing. And no meandering around farmers’ markets on Saturday mornings.”

“Meander.” I raise an eyebrow. “Good one.”

“I know words, songbird.” Jiggy flicks a graham cracker into my lap. “Also, the good moms don’t like introducing randos to their precious crotch goblins, so they expect you to be gone by morning.”

“You prefer to be kicked out after doing the deed?” I ask.

“Uh, yeah.”

“That’s the dream for clowns like him,” Dex says.

Laughing, I point the gooey end of my stick at Jiggy. “You stay away from my momma.”

“Four,” Jiggy holds up four fingers, “they know how to cook.”