Trix
I HEAD out to the courtyard, still wearing my same dirty clothes, with Grim trailing behind me. The smell from the grill hits my nose, and my stomach lets out a big growl. According to Boz, he’s the master griller, so I’m looking forward to eating tonight. Other than a sandwich here and there, I’ve pretty much starved since getting to the club house. It’s not really Boz’s fault. Something always seems to get in the way when it’s time to eat.
Grim lets out a woof and runs toward the grill. Dropping down to pet his head, Boz drops a piece of meat on the ground, saying something to his dog. Getting closer, I see there are only two steaks left on the grill. After standing up, Boz flips them both over and places one on a plate. As soon as he sees me, he shoots me a wink then grabs the last steak.
After plopping it on a plate, he hands it to me and he says, “This one is for you. I figured since I was doing the cooking, we could get the last two, so they’ll be hot.”
“That was nice of you, babe, always taking care of me,” I tell him with a smile. “You know I like my meat hot.”
His hand lands on my ass with a stinging slap. “I got some hot meat for you, darlin’.”
Grabbing hold of my hand, he leads me to the three picnic tables filled with food. A few women are standing around, each wearing an honorary cut, labeling the group as old ladies. I smile at them before looking down at all they have to offer. The women obviously fixed every kind of side dish they could think of.
I let go of Boz’s hand and start piling my plate full of potato salad and coleslaw then grab a deviled egg, not to mention two homemade rolls. To finish it off, I slide a piece of pecan pie on my plate. My eyes then land on the baked beans and creamy macaroni and cheese, letting me know I’ll be making a second trip. Finally done, I grab a beer and walk over to the women.
Looking at the oldest woman in the bunch, I do my best to show her the respect she deserves. “This all looks amazing. You ladies out did yourselves.”
“Thank you,” she says, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re Trix, right? My son has told me all about you.”
“Who’s your son?” I ask as Boz lays a hand on the small of my back.
The woman laughs, a tinkling sound that makes my smile grow. Then, she steps closer and blinks her eyes, drawing my attention to the bright green orbs. “Your Boz’s mom!”
“I like to call him Tate, but he gets a little snippy when I do,” she says, as Boz releases me and places a kiss on her cheek.
“Hey, Momma,” he says, stepping back to my side. “It all looks good.”
She looks back at me and says, “Make sure you come back for some of the apple cobbler. My friend Lisa made it, and it’s amazing.”
I smile at her, then my eyes lock on her cut. Most women bury their cut with their man after he dies. At least, that’s how it’s done in Dad’s club. They may keep the patch, but the old lady’s cut always lays in the casket, right beside her man. So, considering he is gone, I am surprised to see her wearing it.
“It’s a Mom’s cut,” she says with a laugh, then straightens the leather at her breast.
Unable to stop myself from being rude, I step forward and look right at the patch over her breast. Sure enough, it says ‘Boz’s Mom’. “That is the coolest shit I have ever seen. I’m gonna have to tell my dad about that. Maybe I can get one that says ‘Hoss’ Daughter’.”
She laughs again and nods her head. “You do that, sweetheart.”
Before she can say more, someone comes over and asks for her help finding another table for food. After a quick goodbye, she walks away and Boz leads me across the yard to an empty picnic table. Grim plops down on the ground beside us, looking from his master to me, waiting for one of us to give him something off of our plates.
“Sorry, buddy. I’ll give you one bite, but the rest is all mine,” I say, cutting off a piece of steak and tossing it at him.
Boz laughs, before tossing Grim a piece of his steak. “I don’t know why you’d lie to my dog like that. You know you ain’t gonna eat all that food. When you get full, he’s gonna be licking your plate clean.”
“I don’t want him watching me eat with that sad puppy dog look on his face. It makes me feel bad,” I tell him, sinking my teeth into a deviled egg.
“No need to feel bad, darlin’. That dog eats plenty. Every fucking brother in the house feeds him. I’m surprised his belly isn’t dragging on the ground,” he says, watching me dig into my food. “From the look of it, though, I’m not doing a very good job at keeping you fed.”
“It would be nice if you fed me after you fuck me,” I say with a smirk. “I need to keep my strength up and all.”
He looks at me for a minute and says, “I won’t always fuck you. I’ll throw a little sweet your way every once in a while.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, as I reply, “That would be nice.”
We spend the next few minutes eating in silence. When my stomach is finally ready to bust, without a second trip to the food table, I lay my plate down on the ground for Grim to finish. “There you go, big boy.”
“Told you,” Boz says, laughing at me.
I stick my tongue out at him and say, “Shut up, funny. You didn’t know I wasn’t going to eat it all. It was just a lucky guess.”
When he finally stops laughing at me, he looks at me and says, “Yeah, I did. I know you better than you think I do.”
For some reason, his words ring true. He seems to know damn near everything about me. Maybe not my favorite color or the name of the first boy I crushed after in third grade, but he knows the important stuff. He knows how much my dad means to me, and how much I respect the club and all it stands for. For me, that about sums up my life. Other than Addy, it’s all I’ve got.
I feel like I know him, too, but there is something I have always wondered about. “How did you get your road name? Why Boz?”
He sits there for a minute gathering his thoughts, and then he lets out a chuckle and says, “Well, when I was little and my father was president, I was a little bit cocky. My ass would go around trying to tell everyone what to do, just like my dad did. I was so damn bossy, the brothers started calling me the little boss man. I was really bad with the other kids around the club. They couldn’t make a move without me being up in their shit, so they started calling me Boss, too.”
My smile grows as he continues the story. “Sheila, she was Smoke’s sister, was a little younger than the rest of us. She had a bit of a lisp when she was a kid, so when she said boss, it came out Boz. It just kind of stuck with everyone.”
We both laugh, before I say, “I bet you could tell me all kinds of stories about y’all growing up together. It must have been really nice, having each other. There weren’t many other kids at Dad’s club and no other girls, so I missed all that. I never even had a real friend before I met Addy.”
“Yeah, we had fun, but we got in a hell of a lot of trouble together. Still, I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he tells me as he stands from the table and grabs my hand.
As he leads me across the yard, I ask, “Where are we going now?”
“To my room,” he says, not giving me any more information.
“The party is just getting started,” I whine, looking at some of the brothers tossing horseshoes. “Do we have to go in already?”
We’re inside and headed down the hall before he answers. “I want to jump in the shower and get these smoky clothes off. We can go back to the party after, but I was thinking about taking you to bed early.”
“Oh, you were?” I ask, leaning into him as he opens the door to his room.
His reply is drowned out by my squeal of delight, when I see piles of bags on the bed. My favorite pair of flip flops are sitting right beside them. “You got my stuff!”
“Told you I would,” he says with a shrug.
Turning to him, I plaster my body to his. “I’m thinking I may be the one taking you to bed.”