CHAPTER NINE

Sutton—

Saturday, when Rafe and I ride up to the clubhouse, there's already a crowd. I see Kyle's food truck parked in the lot. Kids run around the picnic tables.

Kyle is busy filling orders.

Rafe parks his bike, and we climb off. The place is packed, lines of bikes and people I know don't all belong to the club crowding the limited space. I see guys with other patches and a lot of riders with no patches at all.

"I didn't realize there'd be so many people," I say.

Rafe takes my helmet and hangs it off his handlebar. "Yeah, a lot of hang-arounds and friends of the club get invited. It's kind of an open party we have every spring."

"Kyle wanted me to help him."

"Make sure he pays you," Rafe teases with a smile, then pulls me to him for a kiss. "I'll steal you away for a break in a bit."

"All right." I head over, Kyle's eyes following me through the crowd. When I climb in the back door, he turns.

"Hey. Thanks for helping today."

"No problem. What do you need me to do?"

"I'm making tacos, burgers, and brats. If you could make sure we have enough chopped onions and sliced tomatoes, that'd be great."

"Sure."

He's got an air fryer going with some onion rings.

"Those smell terrific," I say. "Are they frozen ones?"

"Fuck no. I came up with the recipe myself. Here, try one." He passes a ring proudly and slides me a cup of dip. "Gotta try it with my secret sauce."

I dip and bite into the crispy batter coating. The onion ring practically melts in my mouth, and the sauce is amazing. "Oh, my God. Why haven't you been making these all along?"

"I've been fooling around with the recipe. I wanted to make sure I got it perfected."

"These are definitely a hit. These are going on social media immediately."

He grins. "So, I can cook, huh?"

"Guess so. You just can't read your mom's handwriting," I tease.

"Right." He laughs and throws more burgers on the grill.

We work for a couple of hours with barely a break in the line. Finally, we get a few minutes with no one at the window.

"Wow. That was crazy," I say.

"Yeah, this crowd can eat." He busies himself by wiping down the counter.

I stare at him until he turns and catches my eyes. "What?"

"Can I ask you something?"

He slows his rag. "Sure."

"Why do you let Rafe take advantage of you?"

"Is that what I do?" His rag moves faster.

"Yeah."

He shrugs. "He's my brother."

"He's capable of doing things on his own, you know."

"I suppose he is." He pauses and studies me. "And how's Rafe treating you ?"

"Fine. Why?"

"You think he's using me. I want to make sure he's not using you ."

I sober at his words. Maybe I deserved that for sticking my nose in something that isn't my business. "Touché."

"I'm not trying to be a dick, Sutton."

"Well, mission failed." I turn and start chopping an onion vigorously. I feel Kyle watching me.

"You tryin' to kill that onion?"

"Since I have a knife in my hand, I guess you're lucky it's only an onion I'm attacking."

"Hey."

"What?" I ask, without looking at him.

"Sutton?"

"What?" I say again.

"Put the knife down."

I do and finally look at him.

"You didn't answer my question. How are things between you and my brother?"

"It's none of your business, Kyle."

He drags in a breath. "Maybe not, but I'd want to know if he wasn't treating you right."

I cross my arms. "And what would you do about it?"

"Beat the shit out of him," he says without hesitation.

I read the truth in the depths of his eyes. "Would you?"

"Absolutely."

"I appreciate your concern, but he and I…"

"What?"

"We're fine. Everything's fine."

"Why doesn't it sound like it?" He growls, like he's at the end of his patience.

Green walks up to the window. "Hey, Kyle. Fill me up a plate, will ya?"

"Sure, man." Kyle goes about it, and while he does, I pitch in, grabbing some onion rings hot out of the fryer, then passing Kyle a container of dipping sauce.

"You two work good together," Green says, taking the plate from Kyle. "Thanks, man."

After he walks off, I busy myself chopping onions. Green's right—Kyle and I do work well together, and I look forward to seeing him every day. I realize I'm happier on the days I know I'm going to be spending it with Kyle. It's a feeling I know I don't have with Rafe. He's fun, and we have a good time, but it's like there's no depth to our relationship. I don't think we've had a single conversation about anything serious.

"Sorry I snapped at you." Kyle leans a hip against the counter.

"You want to know what I think?" I ask.

"Of course. I mean… I know I can be gruff, and I've given you a hard time, but you're a good worker, and your views, opinions, and feelings matter to me."

My mouth drops open. I stand there for a second before I blink and gather myself to reply.

"That may be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," I whisper.

"God, I hope not," he replies and wipes his hands on a rag.

When I don't reply, he tilts his head, studying me.

"My brother doesn't say things like that? He doesn't tell you you're important to him?"

My eyes start to glaze, and I pick up the knife.

"You okay?"

"I think the onion's getting to me." I wipe my face with my apron hem.

Kyle lays a hand on my shoulder. "Sutton—" Someone approaches the window, and he turns. "Hey, Rafe. You hungry?"

My eyes widen. Did he see us? Did he see his brother's hand on my shoulder? But when I brave a glance, Rafe's grinning.

"Just came to steal Sutton away for a break." He looks past Kyle to me. "You ready, babe?"

My gaze shifts to Kyle. "If it's okay with you."

"Sure. I've got this."

I untie my apron, and Rafe meets me at the back door, threading our fingers together and leading me toward the clubhouse. I dare a peek over my shoulder and find Kyle watching.

Rafe leads me inside and gets me a beer. Then we wander over to a poker game, and he asks if he can join in. I hang in a chair next to him, bored.

After twenty minutes, I lean to Rafe. "I need to get back and help Kyle. He's manning the truck alone, and there are a lot of people here."

Rafe barely glances at me, reaching for his glass. "Yeah, sure. I'll walk you out."

"That's not necessary. Finish your poker game." I stand, and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss, then tugs me down and kisses my mouth.

"I'll come by in a bit."

"Okay." I make my way through the crowded clubhouse. When I climb in the back of the truck, there's a line, and Kyle is rushing around. "Sorry, I should have stayed."

His gaze flicks to me for just a split second. "Can you get another batch of tacos ready? I need six more. I've got burgers going, but I need to get another batch of onion rings in the fryer." He's busy chopping onions.

"On it." I get to work.

With the grill going, the trailer is hot, even though it's a cool day. Kyle's wearing an Evil Dead t-shirt with the sleeves torn off, and his tanned, inked biceps glisten. He looks hot as hell… in the sexy meaning of the term.

We work until the line is gone and finally have a minute to breathe.

Kyle tosses a spatula and leans against the counter. He grabs a bottle of water and chugs it all, his throat working and droplets trailing down. When he lowers the bottle, our eyes connect.

"Where's Rafe?" he asks.

"Playing poker."

Kyle nods and looks away. Now that we've got a moment and I can observe him, I notice something's bothering him.

"What's wrong?"

He huffs a laugh. "I suppose you'll think it's hilarious."

"What's that?"

"Melissa and Harley Jean signed me up on a dating app."

"You're kidding?" I grin.

"Nope." Sliding his phone from his back pocket, he pulls up the app and turns the screen to face me.

"Did you know about this?" I scan the text and photo.

"Not until just a while ago. They came by and dropped the bomb on me." He returns his phone to his pocket.

I giggle. "They did it as a joke, right? Did you tell them to take it down?"

He doesn't answer immediately, just crosses his arms and stares at his boots. He huffs a laugh. "It's too late for that. They already set a date."

I straighten, and something like panic flashes through me. "Oh. I see. Are you going?"

"Kind of have to. I'm supposed to meet this girl at a restaurant tomorrow night."

I feel like all the air sucks out of the trailer. "Did they…" I pause and swallow. "Did they show you a picture of her?"

He digs his phone out again, scrolls, and turns the screen toward me.

My eyes shift to his face. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah." But he doesn't sound excited.

"Does she know you're in the club?"

He laughs. "I doubt it."

"Are you going to tell her?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

I suddenly have this forlorn feeling, like I'm losing my best friend. "I, um, wow. Well, good luck, I guess." I sound like a bumbling moron.

"You ever been on a blind date?" he asks.

"No."

"Me neither."

"You're a very good-looking man. Surely, you're not nervous about it."

"Nah. Just not sure how this is done."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Our eyes lock.

"I guess."

"Which restaurant?"

"Sully's on Second and Main."

"Oh."

Someone comes to the window, and Kyle steps over to take their order. It's Sara, Green's ol' lady. She has a little girl on her hip.

"Hey, Kyle. I was wondering if you had any apple juice or something for the kids."

He holds up his finger. "Give me one second."

He moves to the small freezer and appears with a popsicle. He peels it open, revealing the cherry red ice pop.

"Here you go, honey," he says, holding it out for the little girl. "Cherry's your favorite, right?"

She nods, grinning.

"See? I remembered from last time." He reaches out to ruffle her curls. "She's adorable, Sara."

"Thanks, Kyle." Sara turns to her daughter. "What do you say, sweetie?"

"Thank you," she whispers softly, burying her head in her mother's shoulder.

I study Kyle's face. It's lit with a big grin as he watches them walk away. He's leaning on his elbows. When he straightens, he catches me staring.

"What?"

I shake my head. "You're good with kids."

He shrugs. "It's not hard to be good with kids, is it?"

"For some it is."

Soon there's another line, and we work until dark, then clean the equipment until Rafe comes and gets me.

"Thanks for the help," Kyle says.

"I'm exhausted." But I'm grinning. "How ‘bout you?"

"Yeah. Oh, wait." He reaches for the tip jar and holds it out to me. "Here."

"I can't do that. You have bills to pay."

He rolls his eyes, grabs the cash, and shoves it in my hip pocket. Butterfly tingles shoot up my body at his intimate touch.

"You earned it."

"Thanks." I search his eyes wondering if that touch affected him as well, but he gives nothing away. I step out of the trailer.

Rafe sticks his head in. "Hey, Kyle, can you give me a hand moving this picnic table?"

"He's exhausted, Rafe. Find somebody else," I snap.

"He's standing right there."

"He has to shut everything down. He's worked all day, unlike you, who played poker and enjoyed yourself."

"What's the bug up your ass?" Rafe asks.

"Never mind." I stalk off, and he follows.

"Babe. What's your problem?" He catches up to me as I head to his bike. In my mind, I'm wondering if we get in a fight in the middle of the clubhouse parking lot, if I can find my own ride. Of course, I still only have his place to go to. It's times like this that I miss my girlfriends. I've met the other girls here, but it's not the same.

Rafe catches my hand and spins me around. "Hey, I'm sorry."

"You always do this, Rafe." I sigh.

"Do what?"

"Ask Kyle to help you with shit. Why? You're not helpless. Learn to do things for yourself. Or if you need help, you have a dozen MC brothers you can ask. Why is it always Kyle?"

"He's my brother."

"That doesn't mean he always has to drop what he's doing to come help you."

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

I jerk my hand free. "Nothing. I'm tired and want to go home." I stalk to his bike, and when I reach it, I cross my arms and stand there.

He doesn't say another word, just passes me my helmet, climbs on, and fires the bike up, then waits while I climb on. As we ride through the lot, I see Kyle watching us pull out.