CHAPTER ELEVEN Mad Bell

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mad Bell

It was that hour between being too late and too early. The sun wouldn't be up for a couple of hours and the clubhouse was still as ever as I walked out of my room. I'd slept here again, figuring this time it would be easier to get a move on things so early. Unlike most of this past week, it had been because I was so pissed at Maisy that I didn't want to go home and sit alone with those angry feelings that had been left on simmer all damn day. I still wasn't happy, but at least she was helping out.

It was disorienting to be awake and roaming around when the place was dead quiet. It meant the last of the partying crowd were down for the count and the ones that had day jobs were halfway through their nightly rest.

I was the only dumbass awake.

And it was all Maisy's fault.

A growl vibrated my chest before I could stop it.

At least she was helping me… though I wasn't sure I wanted to see her, especially not this early in the morning.

My stomach rumbled. Maybe I was grumpy because I needed something to eat.

I practically rolled my eyes. Food wasn't the cure. Sleep and one less pain in my ass woman with jewel-colored blue eyes was.

I grumbled under my breath as I pulled open the back door to the clubhouse. I was in search of coffee and praying someone had already started a pot.

"Hey, Mad Bell," Prez said as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. To say I was surprised to see him would have been an understatement. He knew about this fucking chili thing because Maisy had talked to him beforehand, and even if she hadn't, I knew the whole damn club was abuzz with it thanks to fuckin' Payback and Wrench. They were still laughing over it. I didn't think Prez would be at the compound this early unless it was an emergency, and while this was a frustrating situation I'd all but been thrown into, I didn't think it warranted him showing up.

"Sludge?" he asked, holding out a random to-go mug that looked as big as my forearm. Fuckin' perfect.

"Appreciate," I said with a nod of my head. I grabbed it and didn't hesitate to throw some back like I was doing a cheap shot.

"What time you gotta be there?"

"Gates open at eleven. We're allowed to be there to set up and start cooking up to four hours in advance."

He looked at his phone as he took a long swallow from his mug.

"Two hours to prep, then," he said with a nod as if he thought it was doable.

All we had to do was cut up some veggies and brown some meat— cause I sure as hell wasn't trying to get my meat cooked outside on an electric burner that I couldn't regulate. I had a couple of slow cookers I was gonna use to keep it warm until I added it to the chili batches. Two hours sounded like enough time, but that shit went fast when you were on a deadline. And since I didn't know a damn thing about doing something like this event, I needed to get there as early as I could to figure out what the fuck was going on.

I was sweating and I hadn't even started yet.

I didn't like being thrown into unknown situations.

I had my kitchen. I knew my kitchen. Knew the people I worked with. Felt comfortable enough with them, even if a couple of them did piss me off quite often. One in particular on a damn daily basis— hell, on an hourly basis.

I grunted thinking about damn Maisy. She was the reason I was in this situation.

As I shook myself out of it, I focused on Prez. He was standing there with an amused brow arched in my direction.

"Nothin'," I answered the question he hadn't asked out loud. "I'm gonna head up there." I paused before I turned to leave. "Thanks."

He raised his mug and followed behind me. I figured he'd head off to… do whatever he had planned. I was a little shocked when he followed me out the front and down the long road.

"You babysittin' today?" I teased, feeling like he was going to follow me all the way up to the bar.

"Figured I'd lend a hand. This is a big moment for the club." I felt his eyes on me but I didn't dare look at him. "For you."

It was almost like he dug into my head and pulled out the things I'd been trying to run from. I'd been treating this like something I had to do— something Maisy forced me into— but the truth was, there was a part of me that was equally excited and scared to be a part of something like this. To have my chili out there for all these people to try. People who would never likely make it to the bar in the first place.

It was awkward and I didn't know what the hell to say. I didn't want to say anything, if I was being honest. I liked LT and thought he was a really good Prez, but we weren't close. I'd never shot the shit with him and didn't really have the urge to. So knowing he was going to be lending a hand kinda added stress on top of the stress I was already dealing with. That said, I appreciated that he had my back. He was there, doing this stupid thing that… well, it wasn't stupid. It was for a good cause, and I got that. It was the reason I didn't fly off the handle, which was good because I would have regretted it.

As we reached the end of the dirt road and cleared the thick line of trees that surrounded the compound, I saw her.

Maisy stood there at the back door, the security light brightly lighting up her left side. That fuckin' smile was on her face the moment I looked up and met her gaze.

Instantly, I felt some of the stress melt off. Couldn't say why, and I wasn't about to think about it enough to figure it out.

I grunted again. Prez let out a short laugh, but I ignored him.

Nope. Sure as hell wasn't going to explain why seeing her made this morning a little bearable.

"I'm ready to be of service, Chef," she said, back straight and I swore she was about to salute me. "Where do you want me?"

She winked.

It was a typical thing for her. That exaggerated blink of her right eye as her mouth fell open, looking like some kinda cutesy pin-up girl expression.

Something about it hit me differently this time. Like, for the first time, I realized those stupid fuckin' winks weren't supposed to be a dig at me. They weren't meant to be mean or piss me off. What if they never had been to piss me off? Had I missed it all this time?

And let me tell you, this was a hell of a time to realize shit like this.

Then I thought about what it would be like if I didn't have those winks in my life. And suddenly, I felt a little empty inside.

There was something tickling in the back of my mind. It was too early for this kinda shit.

I took a long pull of my coffee in hopes of drowning out my thoughts like a tidal wave.

Shit didn't work.

"Hello? Where do you want me?" she repeated.

Where did I want her?

Bent over the prep table with my dick buried so far inside her that she'd never scream anyone else's name again.

Wait, what the fuck?!

"You alright there?" Prez asked, smacking my back as I choked on the last sip of coffee that hadn't made it all the way down my throat.

"Great," I grumbled as I moved to unlock the back door.

To my surprise, the lights were on inside and the alarm wasn't flashing, which meant that someone had to have put in the code. I was on high alert because… who the fuck would be in here this early?

I didn't carry a gun like most of the brothers did, but I did have a knife clipped to my belt. I reached for it and startled when I felt cool, soft fingers brush the top of my forearm. I stayed silent as I glared at Maisy. I was pissed. How dare she stop me from being ready to kill someone who fucked with my home away from home?! How the fuck dare she stop me from protecting her?!

"Hey," Dipshit Prospect said as he poked his head out of the kitchen. "I got the place wiped down and ready to go. Have the bins all set up too. I, um, also picked up some donuts… if anyone wants any."

"Donuts? You've just become my favorite," Maisy said with ease as she scooted around me and headed into the kitchen. I absolutely did not sneer as she ruffled his hair playfully.

Okay, I did. The look on Dipshit's face said he caught it and he was terrified. He ducked back into the kitchen as if that would save him. Eighty percent of me still had the urge to pull out my knife and kill something.

The back door pulled open and I whipped around to see a bunch of people filing in, some of them too animated for this time of the day.

"What's this?" I asked as Boom, Bandit, and Twigs stopped in front of me.

"Reinforcements," Twigs said with a wide smile. "I don't do onions, so don't even think about it. I only cry when this mushy fuck makes me watch those lovey-dovey movies." He smacked Boom in the stomach, causing the man to flinch and nearly double over. Twigs was kinda skinny, but I didn't doubt he was packing a lot of strength in that body.

"Why am I friends with you?" Boom said under his breath as he followed Twigs into the kitchen.

"'Cause we go together like fire and TNT."

I snorted at that. Twigs was all about fire, and Boom, well, it wasn't hard to figure out that his side hobby was blowing things up.

I took a moment to look around. It might have been early but the kitchen was alive with conversation. Maisy was talking to Twigs and the prospect. Boom was pouring coffee from a box he'd picked up from one of the local coffee places.

"Donut," Prez said, holding the box open for me.

"Yeah. Thanks." I snatched up the jelly-filled one, hoping like hell it was raspberry and not strawberry. One bite and I knew it was going to be a good day.

I looked up to find Maisy's eyes locked on me. Well, more like she was fixated on the bottom part of my face. Had I made a damn mess of myself? I imagined I looked like a kid with jelly all over his face, and probably had powder all over my beard to go with it. I wasn't overly messy in general, but it was hard to eat jelly donuts without looking like someone had smashed the thing on your face.

My brows pinched together and I wiped at the corner of my mouth. Nothing. Clean as could be. What the fuck?!

Prez walked off as Maisy sauntered in my direction. I couldn't read her face, which set me on edge. I stood a little taller, holding my donut close like I was guarding the most precious thing I had in my life.

"What?" I grunted like a grouch because she was still looking at my mouth. I raised the donut, ready to shove it in my mouth to keep from dealing with whatever the fuck this was. I needed a fuckin' distraction because I didn't like the way my heart was beating faster.

Now she was inches away from me. Her face was right in my face. Her eyes shifted to look dead into mine.

Her lips inched into a smile that teetered between deranged and seductive. I wasn't sure which one I would have rather it been.

She was still coming at me. Coming for my mouth. My stomach dropped at the thought that she was about to kiss me. I fuckin' held my breath, and I would have sworn my heart was gonna thump right outta my chest.

Then she bit my donut.

She. Bit. My. Fuckin'. Donut.

I stood there… stunned? Pissed? Confused as hell? Yeah, all three.

"Sorry," she whispered huskily. It absolutely did not make my brain go a little haywire. "I just had to see what it was that made the Prickly Potato Fryer smile. Mmmm."

She pulled away, a glob of raspberry jelly caught in the corner of her mouth. Her tongue snaked out, and in a blink, the mess was gone.

"I don't blame you," she said as she took a step back. "Raspberry is the best."

She spun and walked away as if nothing had happened, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open and… what I could only call a confusion boner. Clearly my dick was as befuddled as my head.

Hell no, I warned the troublemaker in my pants.

She ate my fuckin' donut. So what if it was only a bite, she put her mouth on my donut.

With a grunt, I pushed the thought aside as I stuffed the rest of the donut into my mouth. It was already hanging open so I might as well act like it was for a purpose.

I looked over at Prez and I would have sworn there was laughter lighting up his normally calm eyes. I hoped he was the only one that saw that shit.

Villain's words snapped back into my head. All that love language talk sounded like bullshit to me. But what if he knew what he was talking about?

My eyes drifted back over to Maisy. She had her back to me now, but even so, I could practically paint the expression she was likely wearing on her face based on her body movements. Her hands were on her hips, and I would have bet money that Twigs had said something totally inappropriate, but in a playful way. She wasn't bothered by much of the stupid shit that came out of his mouth anymore. Her eyes were probably rolling, but the corners of her mouth would be twitching until she'd break and a smile would split her face. I shouldn't know that much about her. I shouldn't know her that well. Shouldn't be able to see the features of her face as if I'd studied them under a microscope. Like that light scar under her right eye that could have been mistaken for a wrinkle. And that beauty mark on the curve of her left ear.

"Hey, Chef!" Maisy's voice jarred me out of my thoughts. My cheeks heated and I wondered if I'd been caught thinking about her, and why the fuck it mattered if I had been. "What do you need from me? Let's get this party started."

My eye twitched as she shot me a sly smile that was more like a sharp poke between the ribs.

"Onions," I said, knowing it was one of her least favorite things to cut. I grabbed up one of the boxes of onions and set it on the corner of the prep station. "I need you to cut all of these onions."

She held the smile on her face but the skin around her eyes went tight. I cocked a brow as if silently reminding her that she was the reason we were even here.

"Yes, Chef," she said, yanking a chef's knife off the wall behind her. She held it up in a way that caught the light, blinding me for a flash. Why was that both terrifying and hot? I didn't need to think about that. "On it."

I let out a shaky breath as she got to work without another glance in my direction.

From there it was a whirlwind of handing out boxes of shit to chop and praying their knife skills were at least better than that of a child's. Cans were getting opened. Beans were getting washed.

For the next little bit, the kitchen was alive with working hands and conversation. It was the kind of thing you'd see more on a holiday in a big family home. Or at least, what I grew up thinking would happen in the kitchens of close, nice families. Not something I knew anything about. Somehow, I found a sense of peace in the more lackadaisical work ethic going on this morning and the ribbings that got tossed around as everyone helped out.

"Hey," Prez said as everyone started packing things in clean containers to transport to the park. "Got you this."

He held a large rolled-up… tarp?

I wasn't sure what the hell it was. It looked white, which told me nothing about it.

Was he giving me permission to kill Maisy for doing this shit to me?

I nearly took a step back at the thought. There was no way…

"It's a banner," he told me.

I would swear until the day I died that I did not get teary-eyed when they hung that banner up on the back of our tented area a little while later. No, I did not. There was nothing about it that made fuzzy feelings well up inside of me. Not the sleek way the bar's name was written, making it look trendy and classy at the same time… which, didn't fit Iron & Steel at all, but that didn't matter. Not with the way it said Chef Mad Bell under it like I was someone. Not with the way Prez patted me on the shoulder like he was fuckin' proud of this moment, of me.

Ah, fuck. I might have been getting a little sappy in my old age. To be fair, I'd never had this before. It took a lot of getting used to, even if it was something I'd always wished for in the back of my mind.

"Ready to get it going?" Maisy asked. Her smile was wide and it was almost like I felt the pride coming from her too.

"Yeah," I replied, hating the way my tone came off a little gruff. I couldn't seem to stuff back the damn emotions choking me. I stood in front of two giant stock pots, each heated by a single electric burner. I tried not to cringe, even as I told myself I could work with this. It was time to start the two batches. "Olive oil."

I held out my hand like I was a fuckin' surgeon. Maisy snorted as she handed over the bottle, ready to take it the moment I was done pouring the right amount into each pot.

"Onions and garlic," I said next.

She was right there, handing me each container as I asked for it. I guessed she'd seen me do this enough it shouldn't have surprised me how she knew what was going on.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.