Page 12 of My Christmas Biker
She gestured for me to bend down. Her hand patted my cheek. “Knock her up. It’s all I want for Christmas.”
Jesus.
“And for you to come home safe tomorrow.”
“Gee, thanks, Ma.”
She shoved the bag of containers and a thermos toward me. “Enjoy the drive. Stay safe.”
“Always.” I kissed her cheek before I straightened. “Love you.”
“My boy, I have loved you since the day you were born. Best thing that ever happened to me. Or it will be until I get a grandchild.”
This woman. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thought so.” Lowering her voice, she ticked her chin at Ginger. “Something about her is familiar. Can’t place it yet, but I will. She’s one to hold onto, son.”
“Alright.” What else could I say to that?
She smiled and left me standing there as she rushed over to Ginger, fussing about her coat before hugging her.
Santa, you got a miracle to work.
Chapter 4 Gingersnap
“Your mom is amazing,” I gushed as I sipped on hot cocoa, drank from a thermos, and stuffed a bite of peanut blossom into my mouth. Crumbs landed on my shirt, and I reached for a napkin, noting the honey-baked ham slices, cheddar cheese, and warm bread she also included. “She thinks of everything, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she really does,” Brick answered with a smile.
“It’s almost like we’re having our own Christmas dinner during the drive. Makes me less sad,” I admitted.
Brick frowned. “I forgot to ask. Did you get ahold of your family?”
“Yeah. It’s a good thing I called when I did. My mom was so worried she almost called the police to track me down,” I laughed.
“Ah. Overprotective and fierce mom. Got it. I have one of those too.”
We both laughed.
“So, what do you do for a living? For a job? Besides belong to a motorcycle club and live in Las Vegas?”
He shrugged. “Lots of things. My main role is the club’s Sergeant at Arms. I maintain order among the club members, especially at meetings and any functions where club members are present. I ensure the rules are followed whether that’s by members or outsiders.”
Outsiders. That sounded intense. “Do you run into trouble often?”
“Depends. Members know how shit works. That’s not usually a problem, but it becomes unpredictable when the club is attending an event or hosting one. Add in hangers-on or outsiders, and it can get wild fast.”
Wild. What did he mean? “What’s a hanger-on?”
“Just like it sounds. A guy or girl who wants to party with the club who comes around often. The chicks like to fuck bikers. Sorry, I know that’s crude, but they do. The guys all want to be one of us, but it takes a certain type of man to adapt to our lifestyle. Trust is earned. You have to prove your loyalty before it’s returned.”
I could understand that concept even if I never participated in it. My father had been a biker. “I see. It sounds a little rough.”
His gaze cut to mine for a few seconds before returning to the road. “Yeah, at times. We make our own rules. Sometimes, that means we live outside the lines the law draws for us. No man should live under the thumb of another. Or woman, for that matter.”
“Do you break the law often?” Yeah, it was a bold question.
“Sweetheart, not all laws are meant to keep us safe. Some are put in place to keep us in a box. Those are rules I don’t hesitate to break. But, if you’re asking if I’m an honorable man, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Perfect? Hell no. But I protect what’s mine and my club, and I won’t hesitate to use force. Feel me?”