Avoiding his tempting body, I made myself get out of bed, start the coffee, and then I headed to the shower.
Dressed and ready for the day, I woke him with coffee, but he growled at me about his ‘lack of morning ass,’ as he put it. I was way too amped up for our normal sexcapades. He must’ve sensed it because he didn’t tease me more. Within minutes we were heading out my front door and to his bike.
I straddled the back of his bike, holding tight to my man. We sped away from Marked Man. The September wind held a hint of fall and the sun warmed me. Riding with Dare was too good, addicting even. I hoped one day we’d go on a day-long ride. Now, that would be wonderful.
My stomach knotted with worry the moment he parked his bike, and no matter what I told myself, the unease wouldn’t go away.
He tucked away my helmet before his lips grazed mine with a tenderness that surprised me. I moved into him so I could wrap my arms around him as he brushed kisses one atop the other across my lips. When he pulled back from me, I only wanted more. He hugged me to him and we walked into the clubhouse together—my worries gone.
The industrial-sized kitchen held two of everything—refrigerators, stoves and dishwashers. The kitchen was sleek and modern, the total opposite of the club’s dive bar feel. Definitely different people in charge of each space.
MJ welcomed me with one of her hard, fast hugs before she gave me the tour of cabinets, pantries and all the other important stuff. I started mixing pancakes, humming to myself.
“Girl, you’re a natural. I’m headed out but I’ll be back to help set up.” She waved and booked it out the kitchen door. With so much energy, I wondered if she walked in her sleep.
I found my groove and became a pancake-making machine. MJ said to plan on thirty guys, at least 150 pancakes. With six pancakes cooking each round, it’d take lots of rounds of pour, flip, remove and slide into the warmer before I had enough. Bacon-covered sheets filled both ovens and I had more ready to go in when those were done. I checked the time, pleased to find I was ahead of schedule. Once I finished cooking pancakes, MJ helped me set out the condiments and get organized while the last of the bacon cooked. I lit the Sterno cans under the chafing dishes, and everything was in place.
“Breakfast is ready,” I hollered like MJ instructed me. Of course, she’d disappeared again.
Lots of teasing remarks flew my way. The other bikers made Dare go first, and he piled six pancakes on his very sturdy disposable plate along with a handful of bacon.
He winked at me. “Won’t be any left after they taste your cooking. I’m getting seconds and thirds now.” He shot a smug smile at a biker named Romeo who’d razzed him most.
Grumbles echoed as the guys lined up.
“Come sit with me.”
I grabbed coffee from the carafe and followed him to the table where we’d placed butter, syrup, jelly, powdered sugar, peanut butter and other miscellaneous stuff. Dare poured half a bottle of syrup on his mound of cakes. We sat down at a huge wooden circular table in the back corner, and I snagged a piece of bacon. He growled but continued cutting his pancakes.
He popped a bite in his mouth and moaned. “Perfection. How do you make ’em light? Normally they’re heavy in the middle.”
“Magic.” I winked at him.
He threw his head back and laughed. I loved the sound of his laughter, light and melodic. I bet he had a wonderful singing voice.
Compliments flew through the clubroom from the twenty bikers who ate my breakfast. Pride filled me, partly because of my skill but more because of their appreciation.
“You eating?” Dare scowled at me as he worked his way through his stack.
“While I cooked, I had to test it all to make sure everything tasted delicious.”
He glared at me suspiciously. “How many?”
I held up three fingers. “And lots of bacon. In the name of quality control.”
He nodded his approval. The room smelled of bacon, wood and the spicy scent of men. Underneath, I smelled a mild scent of stale beer, but not strong like during the party.
I walked toward the counter through the maze of reject diner tables that held bikers as diverse as the multi-colored tables scattered across the floor.
MJ stood in the kitchen, a plate in hand, eating pancakes and bacon. “Damn good.”
I put out the rest of the bacon and pancakes before retreating to the kitchen to clean up.
Zayn stuck his head in the kitchen. “Headed to open up, no hurry. Thanks, Mama.”
MJ’s brow arched at Zayn’s words. I rinsed dishes for the dishwasher and didn’t respond.
Soon the space was clean and I felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
Dare and Jericho swung through the door carrying two empty pans. “We cleaned you out.” Jericho set his pan down on the counter. “Tell me you’ll cook here, full time.” He flashed a smile at his mom. “No offense.”