Table: Motorcycle Club Romance (Dragon Runners Book 4) by ML Nystrom

Author:ML Nystrom [Nystrom, ML]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925853148
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Published: 2018-12-14T18:30:00+00:00

Twelve

Table was right. I’d never seen so many people at a gathering acting so free and confident. The Lair was filled with laughter, joking, food, and drink. There were people playing pool in some sort of tournament, and I noticed Table was ranked at the top. Others were playing video games. Kids were running around, threading their way through the adults like they were running an obstacle course. A few half-hearted slow downs were called out but for the most part ignored.

Betsey had the place running like a well-oiled machine. Every detail, from tables, cloths, and cutlery to the coolers full of beer, was covered and ready. Large trash cans were in place for the aftermath when everyone would be stumbling around in a food coma. After a brief rest, I helped Betsey and several of the other club wives in the big kitchen with celebration preparations. Despite the cold weather, some of the prospects had already set up several turkey fryers on the outside deck, and others had been manning a gigantic black smoker that held an entire pig. It had been cooking all day and the luscious smell of barbecue wafted its way indoors.

My job was peeling potatoes along with the woman named Donna. I wasn’t sure about her place in the club, as she wasn’t a wife or an “old lady,” but somehow she seemed to belong. At least she belonged enough to complain about the work.

“I cain’t see why we hafta peel and cook forty pound of taters from scratch. Instant is faster. Don’t take no time at all to boil some water and stir ’em up.”

This was obviously the wrong thing to say to a woman organizing a huge family party. Betsey whirled around, Angel firmly anchored over one shoulder, and sent such a fiery look at Donna, I thought the woman would be incinerated on the spot.

“Ain’t no way, no how, this Southern woman is gonna serve instant potatoes at a family gathering. I ain’t never fixed ’em in my life and I ain’t startin’ now.”

Silently, I agreed with Donna, but I also understood Betsey’s pride in what came out of her kitchen. I had finished peeling one ten-pound bag of potatoes and was starting on the next one when Table came into the kitchen. He stopped next to me and stole a chunk of the vegetable. He popped it in his mouth and crunched down. I grimaced at the thought of eating raw potato, but apparently that was acceptable here.

“You okay, baby girl?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

He nodded and looked up at Betsey. “Any chance I’m gonna get my little girl back anytime soon?”

“Nope. Now get outta my kitchen. No, wait. Go check on them chafin’ dishes I tole Bruiser to set up a while ago.”

“What the hell is a chafin’ dish?”

“It’s the one that’s got the little pots of fire you put under ’em to keep ’em warm. Now scoot!”

Table glanced down at me when Betsey turned her back and rolled his eyes.

“I heard that!”

My mouth burst into a wide smile as Table grabbed another chunk of potato and bolted.

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