Chapter Six

Compass

“Turn here!” Fallon’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the engine.

I yanked the wheel to the right, narrowly missing the curb. I pulled into the Burger and Shake parking lot. “A little warning next time, babe. What’s so urgent?”

She pointed at the drive-thru lane, which only had one car in it. “Go through the drive-thru. I’m not in the mood to sit inside and have people watch me stuff my face.”

I gave her a sideways glance. “We just bought five hundred dollars’ worth of groceries, Fallon. You don’t think maybe we should, I don’t know, eat some of that?”

Her grin was all sunshine and mischief. “That’s for later. We just shopped our butts off, so now our reward is Burger and Shake. That’s how it works.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head as I pulled into the lane. “You and your rules. You’re lucky I’m easygoing.”

She snorted. “Easygoing? Is that what we’re calling you now?”

I ignored the jab as the car in front of us moved forward. The speaker crackled to life, and a cheery voice greeted us. “Welcome to Burger and Shake! What can I make for you today?”

I glanced at Fallon. “What do you want?”

She hesitated and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Am I paying?”

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

“Then just a small vanilla shake,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to spend more of your money.”

I stared at her for a second before turning back to the speaker. “We’ll take two double cheeseburgers with the works, two large fries, two large vanilla shakes, and an order of pickle fries.”

“Compass!” Fallon hissed, smacking my arm lightly. “I said just a shake!”

I ignored her and added, “Ranch and ketchup for the fries, please.”

The voice on the speaker confirmed the total, and I pulled forward. Fallon sat back in her seat, glaring out the windshield.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly. “I just wanted a shake. You insisted on buying my clothes and stuff. I could have bought you lunch.”

I had bought her stuff at the store, but that was my choice. She had tried to insist she would buy it, but I didn’t let that happen. “Aren’t you hungry?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then don’t argue. You’re eating, Fallon.”

She sighed and muttered something under her breath but didn’t fight me further.

I handed over a fifty to the girl at the window, and then she handed over two large shakes along with straws. I passed the straws to Fallon, who opened them and stabbed one into each cup. She took one cup and sat back in her seat. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“That’s all I need from you, babe,” I replied. I meant it. I wasn’t buying her things to hold it over her head. I did it because I wanted to.

The girl handed me the rest of the food, and I parked under the shade of a tree. Fallon handed me the pickle fries as she pulled her burger from the bag.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had pickle fries before,” she said, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Try one,” I said and popped one into my mouth. “You might surprise yourself.”

She hesitated, then grabbed one and took a bite. Her expression shifted almost instantly. “Okay, that’s good.”

“See? Told you.” I grinned and shook the container at her. “Have some more.”

We settled into a quiet rhythm, eating in the cab of the truck while watching cars pass on the road in front of us.

She glanced over at me. “You know, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Do what?” I asked and wiped my hands on a napkin.

“Buy the food. The groceries. The clothes.” She hesitated, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “It’s not like I asked you to. I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

I turned to face her fully and rested my arm on the steering wheel. “Fallon, look at me.”

She raised her eyes reluctantly.

“You’re not taking advantage of me. You didn’t ask me for anything. I offered because I wanted to.” My voice softened. “If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t.”

Her lips twitched like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Besides, the club paid for the groceries. Thank Yarder.” I had bought the shit she had wanted, but it hadn’t been more than fifty dollars.

We finished the rest of the food, and I crumpled the wrappers into the empty bag. Fallon did the same and passed it to me. “I can run that to the garbage can if you want.”

I leveled my gaze at her. “We can throw it away when we get back to the clubhouse.”

“Right, right,” she muttered. “Forgot about the bad guys trying to kill us.”

“Most people wouldn’t forget something like that, Fallon.” I started the truck and headed toward the clubhouse.

We were stopped at a stoplight when she said, “You’re not what I expected, you know.”

I arched a brow. “What does that mean?”

“Just… most guys I’ve known wouldn’t do half of what you’ve done without expecting something in return.”

The light turned green, and I hit the gas, pulling us forward down the open road. “Sounds like you’ve known some shitty men.”

Fallon shrugged like she was brushing it off, but her voice told me otherwise. “Maybe I have.”

I glanced over at her briefly. “Was Clay one of those?”

She stiffened a little, and her eyes flicked to the window.

Clay. The asshole ex-fiancé.

Fallon hadn’t told us much about him, but what little I knew made me want to knock his teeth in. I wasn’t usually one to fly off the handle, but the guy seemed like the type who deserved it.

“Clay was one of them,” she admitted. “And the last one.”

“How long were you two together?” I asked. My voice was a little rougher than I’d meant it to be.

Her gaze stayed locked on the window as if the answer was painted in the trees flashing past us. “Two years.”

“And you guys were going to get married?”

“That was the plan,” she said flatly, her tone void of any emotion. “I was going to climb the political ladder, and Clay was going to be the hotshot news reporter.” She finally looked over at me, her mouth tilting into a humorless smile. “The problem is Clay has a temper and can’t handle someone else doing better than him. Me included.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, and the leather creaked under my palm. “I already want to beat the hell out of this guy, Fallon.” My voice came out low, a growl. I wasn’t sure if what she was about to tell me would add fuel to that fire, but I had a feeling it would.

She let out a heavy sigh like it was exhausting to even think about. “He never actually put his hands on me, Compass.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” I snapped. “Threatening you is just as bad as hitting you. Hell, it would’ve been premeditated if he ever acted on it.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to let that happen.” She turned back to the window, her fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I watched my mom bounce from one loser to another my whole life. I knew the signs to look for. The problem with Clay was he was really damn good at hiding the monster inside him. Love-bombed the hell out of me until he asked me to marry him.” Her voice grew quieter, but I could still hear every word. “It all changed when I got the job working for Russ. I was going up in my career, and Clay was staying in the same spot.”

I scoffed and shook my head as I turned left. “So, let me get this straight—he was mad at you because he sucked?” I let out a dry laugh. “What a douche.”

That got a laugh out of her. “I would love to see you say that to Clay’s face. He’d probably short-circuit. He likes to surround himself with yes-people.”

“Sounds like the guy’s living in a fucking fairytale,” I grunted. “He’s in for a rude awakening hanging around the clubhouse for the next couple of weeks.”

Fallon’s smile dimmed slightly. “I’d be careful around him, Compass. He needs a reality check, sure, but I don’t know if you guys should be the ones to give it to him. Not while he’s in charge of the shooting.”

I glanced at her, and her brow was furrowed in a way that told me she was overthinking. “Don’t worry about it, babe. The club can handle someone like Clay.” Guys like Clay were a dime a fucking dozen.

She studied me for a beat as if trying to gauge if I was being serious.

“Are you okay with us pretending to be a couple for the cameras?” she asked suddenly, her tone softer than before.

I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think it’s gonna be hard.” I glanced at her briefly and caught the way her lips parted slightly in surprise. It was true. Fallon was smart, quick-witted, and beautiful. I’d acted like it was a pain in the ass when Yarder told me about the whole arrangement, but the truth was, Fallon was starting to grow on me. Fast. She was a bit goofy but cute.

“At least we’ll have a few days before Clay comes back,” she pointed out and shifted in her seat.

“Thank hell for that, babe,” I muttered and pulled into the clubhouse parking lot. I eased the truck to a stop near the front doors and threw it in park.

Fallon sighed dramatically. “This is the part I hate about grocery shopping. Now we have to schlep it all in.”

I grinned and shoved my sunglasses on top of my head. “You’re about to see one of the perks of the club, babe.”

Before she could ask what I meant, I laid on the horn—long and loud. She jumped in her seat. “Jesus, Compass! What the hell?”

“Wait for it.”

Ten seconds later, the front door of the clubhouse swung open, and Smoke, Aero, Pirate, and Cue Ball came spilling out with Rocky trailing a few feet behind them.

“Holy crap, Compass,” Fallon whispered and stared wide-eyed as the guys made their way over to the truck.

“More hands to get the job done,” I said smugly. I reached for my door handle. “See? Perks.”

Smoke pulled open Fallon’s door before I could get out and grinned at her. “Shopping haul, huh? Let’s get this shit unloaded.”

Fallon blinked at him. “Uh, thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Rocky called as he grabbed a case of water bottles from the truck bed. “We’re efficient as hell.”

Fallon and I both hopped out of the truck, and I stretched my shoulders, already feeling the heat of the sun.

“Hey!” Cue Ball scolded and pointed a finger at Rocky. “What the hell have I told you about swearing?”

“Brother,” Aero laughed and smacked Cue Ball’s shoulder, “you just told the kid not to swear by swearing at him.”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Cue Ball countered with a grunt. “And I’m a hell of a lot older.”

“It’s really hard to believe you’re the father figure in Rocky’s life,” Aero chuckled.

Cue Ball shrugged. “He’s got Olive to help balance him out.”

“Hey!” Adalee’s voice rang out from the clubhouse doorway and cut through the chatter. “Did you get butter? Like a lot of butter?”

Fallon squinted against the sun and put a hand over her eyes. “Um, yeah,” she called back. “I don’t know if you’d say it’s a lot , though.”

“How much did you get?” Adalee pressed. “I’m trying out some new recipes.”

Fallon perked up beside me, and her face lit up. “For The Cakery?” she asked.

Adalee grinned wide and practically bounced on her toes. “Yup! Now, how much butter did you get?”

“We couldn’t tell if you wrote a six or an eight, so we went with eight,” I answered.

Adalee pumped her fist in the air. “It was six, but I’m glad you went with eight!”

Fallon grinned and clapped her hands together. “Can I help you bake? Or at least watch you?”

Adalee nodded, her smile never faltering. “Yup. The girls and I have been waiting for you to get home. Grab the butter, and let’s get to baking.” With that, she disappeared back inside the clubhouse.

“Found the butter!” Smoke called and held up a bag triumphantly.

I nodded toward Fallon. “You better get that to Adalee so you can get to work.”

“You guys don’t want help?” she asked as she looked between me and the other guys like she was torn.

I shook my head. “We can get it inside. You girls can put it away.”

She grabbed the bag from Smoke and grinned. “Sounds like a plan to me.” She turned on her heel and headed into the clubhouse.

“You don’t think another set of hands would’ve helped us?” Pirate grumbled and shifted a bag of canned goods in his hands.

I shot him a glare. “You guys can handle it.”

“You’re not helping?” Cue Ball asked and raised a brow as he hoisted up a case of beer.

I shook my head and started toward the garage construction without looking back. “I think you guys got it covered. I spent an hour picking out the shit; you can take five minutes to haul it to the kitchen.”

“Anyone else thinks he sounds like Yarder?” Smoke complained as I walked away.

Aero chuckled. “He is the VP, brother.”

The sounds of their voices faded as I headed toward the garage. The half-built structure loomed ahead, and I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I approached.

I’d spent the whole morning with Fallon—shopping, hauling, talking. I just needed a break from, well, everything .

At least I had a few days before Fallon and I were going to have to put on a show.

And then there was finding Russ and dealing with Boone and Gibbs.

Yeah, this was probably going to be the only break I was going to get for a few weeks.

I was damn sure going to take it.