Doin' A Dime (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 4)

“I mean,” I said, “I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle. That takes a skill set that I don’t possess yet.”

She frowned. “Isn’t that just something men instinctively know how to do?”

I shrugged. “I never even learned how to ride a bike.”

Her mouth fell open.

“You don’t know how to ride a bicycle?”

I grinned at her. “I was much more interested in hacking into the FBI than I was in physical exercise. I only realized that I needed to be in shape when I got turned down for sex by a girl in high school. It was then I started to work out and take care of myself. But still, there were never any bikes involved.”

Six shook her head in disbelief.

“You can’t be part of a club and not ride a motorcycle.” Six looked at Wyett. “Fix this.”

Wyett, who was lying full out on the bench seat of my truck, her head resting on my hard thigh, reading a paperback book, snorted. “If he doesn’t want to learn to ride, why should I force him?”

I loved her. I seriously loved her.

Speaking of love.

“I bought you a Rice Krispies treat from the gas station. I forgot. It’s in that bag in the back with the drinks.” I hadn’t quite expected her to jump up and out of the truck so fast, otherwise I might’ve tried a little harder to slow to a complete stop first.

By the time I did come to a stop, she was already climbing into the very back of the truck for the treat.

“You know the way to her heart,” Six teased.

At some point during our road trip, Six had gotten off the back of Lynn’s bike and somehow managed to get into my truck with us.

“Through her stomach?” I joked, putting the truck into park and getting out.

I was the only one there that’d driven my vehicle, which meant I’d somehow gotten stuck with everyone’s shit.

Which brought up the point…

“If I hadn’t brought my truck,” I pointed out, “then somebody would’ve had to bring theirs. Because there’s no way in hell all this shit would’ve fit on the back of y’all’s bikes. Especially when half of them have women on them.”

Six snorted. “Whatever. That still doesn’t negate the fact that you need to learn how to ride a motorcycle. It’s a rule.”

“A rule?” I asked. “Where is this rule? Is it a universal rule? Or just a rule for our motorcycle club?”

“Six,” Lynn said as he wandered up from the woods. “Why must you pester everyone to death?”

Six batted her eyes at her man. “Because I have questions. Lots and lots of questions. And I feel like they should always have answers.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Wyett said as she stood up on the side of the truck and looked down at me. “Can you catch me?”

I walked closer and held out my hands.

I wasn’t sure what I expected, but I really thought that she would at least come down gently. Maybe sit down on the side of the truck bed before launching herself my way.

She didn’t do either. She came down so hard and fast that I had to step back or risk her jumping on my head.

I caught her with a whoosh of exhaled air from my lungs and took two steps back to keep my feet.

She was lucky that I was used to taking hits—jail trained me for a few things at least—or I would’ve ended up on the ground with her.

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned. “I thought you were going to come down nicely.”

She laughed in my face, scrambled out of my arms, and then immediately started to open up her Rice Krispie.

“You’ll find,” Lynn said as he came up to my truck and started to take out bags. His. Not anyone else’s. “That the two of them are really weird. Wyett may look like she’s normal because she dresses like she does, and works a normal job, but she’s just as weird as Six. She’s just better at hiding it.”

I snorted.

“Hey,” Wyett said around a mouthful of food. “I don’t think I’m weird.”

“And that’s the problem,” Lynn countered as he walked away.

I looked at my wife.

“It’s okay,” I teased. “I kind of like that you’re weird. It doesn’t make my weird seem all that extreme.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not weird. You’re intensely focused on all things computer.”

“And you,” I countered.

She stuck her tongue out before taking another bite.

“Wasn’t it you that she tried to get to pay attention to her, and you were so focused on trying to find her aunt’s money that you didn’t notice that she was naked right next to you?” Six asked.

I turned to my wife. “You told her that?”

“We tell each other everything,” Six said with a shrug.

“Ugh,” I grumbled. “Of course, you do.”

Not that I cared.

I mean, honestly, it was quite a good thing to have someone that you could share closeness like that with.