The next morning, Deacon came in, bringing us both coffee. Ella was already in the shower, so it was just me lying there, trying to wake up, but also trying not to let my brain punish me for last night’s actions by replaying them on a loop some more. They’d done that half the night.

“Ride’s waitin’ for you. He crashed in Beau’s playroom on an air mattress last night.” Deacon arched his back, his hand at the small of it. “That room is full of air mattresses and every one of them sucks.”

I winced. “Sorry.” And then what he’d said registered. “What? Rider or Beau slept there. What?”

“Ride slept in there. Had to tell him you were here, babe,” Deacon told me. “He was out of his mind last night, flipped that the Jackals might get to you.”

Shit.

“He wanted to come up here last night. I talked him down. Convinced him to let you sleep.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He waved his hand in a ‘don’t worry’ gesture.

“Where’s the rest of your family?” I asked. “Everyone’s staying here?”

“Spence, me, and Dad were in Beau’s playroom. Dad on a pull-out, us on air mattresses. Jojo’s in Beau’s bedroom. Beau was sleepin’ in the play room with Dad and Spence, on his own air mattress with Chakotay, thinkin’ it was a bro party, but when Ride got here, Rob pulled him and put him in bed with his ma so Ride could crash on that air mattress. Rob slept on the couch. Kid’s a sprawler.”

A full house. That was already full, and I’d gone and made more than one person uncomfortable last night.

Shoot. Me and my effing drama.

“Ride’s in the playroom waitin’ to talk to ya,” he repeated. “Don’t dodge him and make him worry about you again.”

“I won’t. Sorry to be such a pain in the ass, Deacon,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at me and went to the bathroom. I could hear the shower running so I was guessing he was climbing in with Ella. I vacated the premises, hesitantly climbing down the attic stairs to the second floor. Rider wasn’t there.

I could hear a hair dryer going in the bathroom and all the other doors were opened, rooms empty, so I assumed Jojo was in the bathroom. I went down to the main floor and could see and smell the makings of breakfast preparations in progress, but the kitchen was empty of people. I looked out the window. I saw Rider coming toward the house. From my parent’s lawn. Oh God. What?

His expression was cool, almost cold.

I backed away from the sink and stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, feeling sick to my stomach. Feeling all sorts of ugliness crash over me wave after wave.

I’d taken off and made him worry. Worry about me with the Wyld Jackals out there threatening. I was a horrible witch. That didn’t even dawn on me last night.

Deke came in, through the breezeway that led between the garage and the kitchen. That’s where Ella’s dad always hung out, in his man cave with his buddies, his music, and his bongs. Deke went straight to the coffee pot, two empty mugs in hand.

“Pink Lady,” he greeted with a wink. I heard peals of male laughter from multiple voices on the other side of that breezeway and knew that the gang was hanging out in the garage.

Rider stepped into the kitchen and his eyes landed on me. Cold. Angry.

I winced internally. Shit. I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Deke.

“Jennajennajenna. Jenna! Look!” Beau, Ella’s six-year-old brother, skidded into the kitchen and saw me and Rider in a face-off.

“Deacon got me a new shirt!” He was wearing a little Dominion Brotherhood hoodie. He looked adorable.

“Nice!” I said with enthusiasm, ruffling his blond hair.

“You’re marryin’ Deacon’s brother?” he asked.

I froze.

“’Cuz Lella is for sure gonna marry Deacon and you’re already family so that’ll make you like… double family.”

I ignored the lump in my throat. “Uh…”

“Didn’t your ma tell you to get your backpack, Beau?” Deke asked, spooning lots of sugar into one of those coffee cups. “You’re gonna miss that bus. Your pop said he doesn’t have time to drive you to school again today.”

“Oh, shit. I’m gonna be late!” Beau dashed toward the stairs.

Beau had the mouth of a sailor.

“Gotta bounce, Dad,” Rider said. “Call you later.” And then Rider turned his eyes to me. “I’ll see you there at six thirty for dinner with your folks.” His thumb jerked toward my parents’ house.

“Pardon?” I asked.

Not this again.

“Six thirty.” He gave me a hard look. “You be there or we’re gonna have a problem, Jenna.”

“What?” I repeated, glaring at him.

“Don’t make me do this dinner with your folks on my own. I will. But, I won’t be happy about it. Come to think of it, meet me here, 6:15, so we can walk over there together.”

“Ri---” I started.

“Jenna! Good morning!” Ella’s mother strolled into the kitchen. “Do you want some frittata? I have three big, big ones cooking in the oven. I’m also making battered French toast sticks. Just for you, unless you wanna share.” She pinched my cheek as she passed me.

“Uh, mornin’. No thanks, Bertie.” I loved Ella’s mom’s French toast sticks. She always made them on my birthday. And when I was sad. Shit. She must’ve known.

Rider reached for my hand to get my attention. It wasn’t sweet. Not at all. There was no emotion on his face.

“Gimme your car keys. I’m leavin’ my bike here, takin’ your car. Spence’ll drop you at your salon. I’ll get Scoot to drop you here after the salon.”

“Uh…”

Why was he taking my car?

“Her keys are up in my room, on top of my make-up table.” Ella materialized.

“I’ll get the car key off, leave your house and salon key there,” Rider said.

I glared at my best friend.

She gave me a cocky smile.

Evidently, Ella was Team Rider, too.

Rider leaned in and gave me a quick kiss and then he turned on his heel and headed toward the stairs.

“Rider?” I said to the back of him, but he kept going.

Spencer had come in from the breezeway. “Yeah, I’ll give you a lift. After frittatas. Whatever the fuck they are.”

FML.

The kitchen was a little mayhem-y as people were getting coffee and Bertie was cooking while Rob tried to get Beau to wear matching shoes so that he could get him to his school bus stop on time. He finally gave up on matching shoes and settled for any shoes. I’d seen Rider leave with my car and then I slipped out the kitchen door and marched over to my parents’ house, seeing that Dad was in the driveway, but that thankfully Mom had already gone to work.

“Dad,” I said, pleadingly, catching him about to get into his car.

“Oh. Hi,” he said with a little smile. It sort of looked uncertain. Dad also looked tired.

My father was always well put together. Always clean shaven. Never a hair out of place. And he wasn’t disheveled, but he looked tired. Older. I didn’t like the way it made my stomach feel.

“Dad, cancel this dinner. Please.”

He looked confused.

“I’m trying to… break up with him and he’s taking this protection thing seriously, and I just… I need to not do this with you and Mom and him tonight. I…”

“Honey,” Dad looked alarmed. “What’s going on?”

I started to come unglued. Dad grabbed me and pulled me into a hug, seeing it.

God, it had been years since he’d held me like that. Years. I just fell absolutely apart. He ushered me inside and we sat on the couch.

He got me a bottle of water and a box of Kleenex. I somehow managed to get myself together.

“I can’t do this dinner tonight. Mom wants to rip me a new one. Rider wants to protect me from her. Which is kind of sweet, but I’m trying to break up with him and that’s not going well and it’s just gonna keep getting harder if he keeps doing sweet things like being a buffer between me and her, and if you guys are gonna take my salon, just tell me now, Dad. I don’t wanna do this with an audience at the dinner table with linen napkins and Mom’s good china, and…”

“Jenna, breathe,” Dad said.

I stopped talking and looked at him expectantly.

“No one’s taking your salon,” Dad said.

“No?”

“No,” he said firmly.

“She’s been threatening and---”

“That shit stops.”

My eyes bulged. My father rarely cussed, unless it had something to do with golf.

He let out a sigh. I slumped in relief.

“She and I were going to wait to do this, since all the trouble with you and this fella you’ve dating began, but…” he looked at me and a muscle jumped in his cheek. My dad looked… nervous.

My heart sank.

“We’re separating,” Dad said.

My eyes were huge.

“Se-separating?”

He nodded. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“Who? Whose idea…” I started.

“Mine,” he said quickly.

I nodded, trying to let it sink in. Wow.

“Jenna, I… I haven’t been a perfect husband. And…”

“Are you joking? You’re a fucking saint to put up with her.”

My father’s expression fell. And it was already way, way close to the floor. He shook his head, looking guilty.

There was a loud and aggressive knock on the door. Dad rushed to it.

Spencer, Deacon, and Deke were all there, all looking tweaked. They saw me behind Dad and all of them visibly relaxed.

“Don’t do that again!” Spencer snapped.

“Excuse me?” My father’s back went straight as an arrow.

“Dad, it’s okay,” I said. “Dad, this is Rider’s dad and his brothers.”

“You just disappear? One minute you’re in the kitchen and the next minute we can’t fuckin’ find you! With all that’s goin’ on, what’re you thinking?”

I winced. “Sorry. I needed to talk to my dad.”

Deacon and Deke were both calmer, but Spencer was supremely ticked at me.

“Next time just say somethin’, yeah?”

I nodded a little. “I need another minute with my dad, okay? I’ll be right there.”

“Deke Valentine. Good to meet ya.” Deke extended his hand toward my dad.

“Paul Murdoch. You as well.”

“Deacon.” Deacon held out his hand. Dad shook it.

“Spence.” Spencer held out his.  Dad shook his, too.

“We’ll watch out the window. Frittatas’re ready,” Spencer said.

“I don’t want any. Go ahead.”

“Bertie made a mountain of breakfast food. You should bring your Dad. Come have some,” Deacon said. “She said her French toast sticks are your favorite.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Thanks very much. Another time maybe,” my dad said. “I have a meeting to get to.”

They all said their goodbyes and Dad shut the door.

He let out a breath. “We have a lot to discuss. But I really do have to go. Sorry to drop a bombshell on you like that, honey, especially since you already seem so stressed out.”

“Wow. I mean, it’s still kind of sinking in.” I shook my head.

“I want it amicable. But, your mother… she…” Dad winced and let that hang.

I could only imagine.

“Listen,” he glanced at his watch. “Do you want to go to lunch? We can talk some more? I can pick you up at the salon at around one?”

“I’m fully booked today, and people are already probably a bit miffed about last week. I don’t wanna do this dinner tonight, Dad. I’m sorry. The Rider thing is complicated and… can we reschedule?”

“Sure.” Dad nodded. “I’ll talk to your mother and we’ll set another day.”

“Okay.”

Phew.

“You’re not losing your salon, Jenna. You’ve worked hard. I see that. I won’t allow your mother to sell.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Dad pulled me into another hug.

“I’ve missed these,” I said in a small voice.

“Me, too. Lotta things are gonna be changing, honey. I have to talk to you about a lot of things.”

I nodded and fought back more tears.

“We’ve both got a busy day, so I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll go from there.”

I nodded again.

“I’ll watch you walk across. Make sure all is good.”

“Okay, Dad.”

I walked back over to Ella’s house and waved at him before going inside.

And then before I got a chance to get lost in thoughts of last night or thoughts of Mom and Dad splitting up, I got wrapped up in a crazy hectic breakfast with way too much food with Rob, Bertie, Deacon, Deke, Ella, Spencer, and Jojo. And I got to meet Chakotay, too (Spencer’s German Shepherd).

Spencer drove me to work in his pickup truck. He was quiet and angry and let me have it a little bit again, saying he’d answer to Rider if anything had happened to me this morning, since Rider left me in his hands. He also told me Rider was not in a good place the night before when I took off on him. I apologized for it again, and he was still miserable. I suspected it wasn’t only about me, but I didn’t have the head-space to give it too much thought.

So, I didn’t. I let him drop me off at the salon and I got there ten minutes late. My appointment was grouchy at first but thawed toward me half way through her roots being done.

And then Paige Skank Simpson walked in.

“Hello Jenna. Do you have any Bubble and Bubble shampoo?”

“You mean Bumble and Bumble?” I asked.

She looked at me like I was an idiot. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s Bubble and Bubble.”

I didn’t have time for this bitch’s nonsense. I was a shampoo aficionado.

“No, I don’t carry Bubble and Bubble.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll need to go to a higher end salon.”

“Yeah, why don’t you do that?” I snapped.

I noticed that Scooter was watching her carefully. He wasn’t sitting. He was standing. And he was almost in her space.

She glanced at him. “Can I help you?” she was all huffy with him.

“You can move along,” he said with zero patience and a lot of assertiveness.

She gave him a sour look. “Tell Rider I say hey,” she winked at me.

Fucking bitch.

“I’ll do that,” I said. “Next time I’m riding his face I’ll be sure to think of you.”

I heard a gasp of surprise. Shit. My customer.

I held my glare while Skank Paige stormed out on her high heels, her split-end-ridden hair flapping in the breeze.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Gustafson,” I called out.

Her eyes were huge. She looked back down to her magazine.

“You were aggressive,” I said to Scooter.

“She’s a mole,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Mole?”

“Shh. Yeah. She’s been reporting to the Jackals. Takin’ pictures. Causing all kinds a shit. Didn’t know what she was doin’ in here. Probably scoping the joint to see if you had protection.” He was dialing on his phone. “She keeps tryin’ to catch the eye of members, now prospects too, so she can report back to Gordino, Ipswich Jackals Prez.” He started talking into his phone. “Jess. Need a ride-by and an hour or two of sentry. Four or six ASAP. Jenna’s House of Allure. Yep.” He hung up and dialed again. “Ride. Jackal mole Paige at Jenna’s tryin’ to stir shit…. Yep already did. Jess’s sortin’ it. She’s fine. Tore a strip off that gash. Shoulda heard what she said.”

I got right in Scooter’s face and slashed my index finger across my throat in warning.

“Tell ya later. Mixed company. Right. Bye.” He snickered and was about to hang up.

“Wait. Tell him dinner is canceled at my parents.”

“You wanna talk to him?” Scooter asked.

“No! Just… just tell him.”

“Ride? Jenna said--- Oh. Right. One sec.” He looked to me. “He heard you. He already knows. He wants to know what cute animals you want him to pick up for dinner?”

I ignored him and went back to Mrs. Gustafson.

She was terse with me the rest of the appointment. I gave her the wash and set on the house and gave her an extra wash and set coupon for next time. She perked up a little with that.

My elderly lady clientele list wasn’t real big. It just figured with my luck that it’d be one of them in my chair when that happened.

***

In the middle of the afternoon, I got my period.

Well, at least I wouldn’t be falling on his dick for four or five days. Maybe he’d get tired of this game by then.

My phone made a text noise.

It was Rider.

“Pork chops or ribs?”

I wrote back.

“Don’t worry about me for dinner.”

I texted again.

“Don’t worry about me at all.”

He wrote back.

“I’m off before you today. I have time to cook. What do you want me to make?”

How did he even know what time I finished today? Were his prospects looking at my appointment book? I rolled my eyes and put my phone in my reception desk drawer.

He showed up a few minutes later.

And with lots of fanfare. I heard the pipes over the loud hairdryer in my hand. Four motorcycles pulled up out in front of my salon and parked. Rider on his motorcycle, looking hotter than should be legal (damn it), plus Deacon, Jesse, and a very tall slim redheaded guy with a ZZ Top length beard (I’d never seen him before) all stood outside while Rider came in, leather vest, blue jeans, black boots, black thermal. Low man bun. Scruff on his face. Anger on his face. Delicious-looking.

Grr.

I was in the middle of blow-drying a teenage girl’s hair, but he got to me, took the dryer out of my hand, and flipped it off, saying, “One sec.” to the girl. He walked me into the utility room. He shut the door.

“You didn’t answer me about dinner,” he said.

“I have clients. I’m busy.”

“Fine. Sometimes I got my hands in a hood and can’t answer a text right away, too, but Scoot told me you sat for ten minutes eating cannolis with Pippa before that girl came in, so you had ten minutes where you coulda took ten seconds to write back to me and tell me pork chops or ribs.”

“I don’t have to text you back. And I don’t want either. Is he my protector or is he just your spy?”

“You don’t like ‘em?”

“What?”

“Ribs or chops.”

I sighed. “No. I don’t.”

“Then I’ll make you something else.”

“Don’t bother. Let me out. I have another person in the waiting area.”

He shook his head.

I doubled over with a wince.

“What’s wrong?” He was on alert.

I let out a breath and straightened. “Nothing. Just go, okay? I don’t care what you make for dinner. Okay? I don’t like meat with bones in it.”

“Meat with bones in it?”

“No.”

He laughed and scratched his jaw. “I got so many comebacks right now…”

I winced again. I had to get to my bag and take some ibuprofen.

“Are you sick?”

I rolled my eyes. And then I decided, fuck it.

“I got my period.”

He pursed his lips.

“Yeah. So no hate fucking tonight.”

He smiled. “I got no problems running red lights, gorgeous.”

I looked at him a second and then the meaning behind his words permeated.

“Ew. Gross. Get out. Let me get back to work.”

“How ‘bout cheeseburgers?”

“Whatever.” I waved my hand at him as I headed back to my client.

He spoke to Scooter in the waiting area and then they stepped outside (the three other bikers were still out there, all with their backs to my window, looking like bouncers) and they were talking for a minute. I was blow drying, but half watching them. I saw Rider’s head go back in raucous laughter. And then he looked at me and gave me a thumbs up and blew me a kiss.

Blew me a kiss. What was it with him?

Scooter looked at me and laughed.

Scooter had obviously told him what I’d said to Paige.

I’d have thought Rider would still be miffed about my taking off last night. He’d gone from waiting to talk to me in Beau’s playroom to deciding to go to my parents’ house, to laughing and blowing me kisses while talking about what he was gonna make me for dinner.

Whatever. Games. Him and his games.

Scooter, Jesse, and the ZZ Top biker stayed outside for the next hour. (Deacon and Rider rode off). Rider came in at 5:45, sending Scooter home, and sat in my waiting area until I closed at 6:00. Pippa had already left at 5:00, planning to go out on a dinner date with Joe.

Two minutes after she left, she sent me a text.

#TeamRider

 

I rolled my eyes.

I ignored Rider while I closed up.  He followed me out front and up the front stairs.

I went immediately into my room and locked the door.  Two hours later, I walked out to get a drink and he was cooking burgers on Pippa’s George Foreman grill.  They smelled really good.

On the middle of the kitchen table was a package of six chocolate frosted cupcakes with pink sprinkles on them. I stared at them.

“Figured you might need those today with that Aunt Flo business.” He waved the spatula he was holding in the air and then went back to his cooking.

I went back to my room.

“Food’s ready” he called in not long later.

“Not hungry,” I called back, lying.

He said nothing in response.

I watched television in bed.

He came in at around 11 o’clock. I guess he’d been watching TV in my living room.  I guess I’d also forgotten to lock the door. Just as well. I didn’t need my doorknob broken.

He shed his clothes and got into my bed. Naked. I tried to keep my eyes on the TV.

He spooned me, but there was a layer of blanket between our bodies. I just stayed there, not reacting.

He didn’t do anything about it.

He fell asleep.

I stewed in my warring feelings for the next hour, then I slipped out and sat at my kitchen table and ate two chocolate cupcakes, washing them down with two huge glasses of milk.

I heard a key go into the lock and then the door opened. Pippa walked in while I had a too-full mouth.

I swallowed it down and said, ‘Hi.” I took a big sip of milk.

“Hi,” she said, and she looked upset.

“I thought you had a date with Joe.”

“I did.”

“He didn’t come back with you? That’s rare.”

“Yeah. He’s a fucking goof.”

“Oh?” I nudged the package of cupcakes in her direction.

“I don’t wanna talk about it tonight,” she waved her hand. “I’m goin’ to bed.”

“’Night,” I said. I rinsed my glass and put it in the dishwasher. The kitchen was trashed again. Rider could cook, but could he not clean?

I loaded the dishwasher, hand-washed the Foreman grill, and then I went to my bathroom, brushed my teeth, and got into bed.

He immediately pulled me to him and pulled my head to his chest.

“What were you doin’?”

“Cleaning your mess. Can you not clean up after yourself?”

“I cook. You clean.”

“I didn’t eat, Rider.”

“Bet you ate cupcakes.” I heard the smile in his voice.

I tried to ignore the sound of his heart beating. I had to pull away. I turned my back to him.

He spooned me. I was too worn out to wrestle. And my belly hurt. I winced at a cramp and my hand went to my stomach. His hand sweetly moved under my hand and he rubbed my stomach and kissed the back of my neck. 

I fell asleep, a lump in my throat, wrapped up in his arms.