Dream Chaser (Dream Team, #2)(94)

“He’s on it?” Lottie asked.

I looked to her and nodded.

“How on it?” Lottie pushed.

“Well, we can just say that if she was the Holy Grail, and he was King Arthur, it’d take about a week before that cup was in the display case at Camelot.”

“Finally,” Pepper muttered.

I gave her a look that said, Yeah, right. And you and Auggie are up next.

She gave me a look that said, Mind your own beeswax.

I changed my look to say, Not on your life.

She changed her look to say, Whatever.

I adjusted my look to say, I’m getting it regular from a hot guy who makes me breakfast and I’m pretty sure you’ve named your vibrator Augustus.

She rolled her eyes.

She so totally named her vibrator Augustus.

“Are you guys gonna dance, or what?” Juno asked.

“We’re gonna dance, baby,” Pepper said softly to her girl.

I turned my attention to Lottie.

She was now staring out the window.

So I went to her.

She wasn’t only queen bee at Smithie’s, she was our queen bee. A little older than us. A lot wiser than us (except Evie, no one was wiser than her, maybe not even Stephen Hawking). And she’d assumed the duty, with not a small amount of resolve, to look out for us.

“She’s gonna be all right,” I promised.

“I know a thing or two about a dad who isn’t worth much,” she said to the window and then looked to me.

I hooked my arm in hers.

“And you’re all right, and Evie’s all right, and look at me, I’m all right. And you know, it isn’t only Boone who’s making me that way. I’ve always been that way, really, because I have you guys.”

It took a sec, but Lottie finally let it go.

“Was she a good dancer?” she asked.

“Lottie, you would not believe.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think she’s done it in years.”

Hmm.

Dance space.

Alone time.

The need obviously couldn’t be held back.

Which was a problem if she was actually holding it back.

“We all need to look out for her, Rinz,” Lottie declared.

Directive received.

Though I was going to do that anyway.

I nodded.

She unhooked our arms but hooked me about my waist and turned us, saying, “Let’s dance.”

And then we danced.

*



Axl and I were scarfing down burrito bowls at Chipotle when my phone rang.

Okay, I was scarfing. Lottie was a drill master with the whole ironing-out-revue-routines thing.

Axl was eating normally.

I looked to my phone.

It was Joker.

“Joker,” I said to Axl when I saw his raised brows. I took the call with a “Hey.”

“We got a sitch at your house.”

I shot straight in my chair.

How could this be?

First, only the plumber was working, and he came by recommendation of Tack Allen, last president of the Chaos MC. So I’d felt safe leaving him alone because I was pretty sure he wouldn’t screw me by, say, yanking all the copper pipes out of my house to sell them on the copper black market, this courting the wrath of a bunch of bikers that seemed pretty easygoing. But I had a feeling if you screwed someone over that they’d taken under their wing, they’d frown on that.

And second, with the plumber the only one working, I didn’t know why Joker was even there.

“Why are you there?” I asked.

“I wasn’t, until I rode by and saw guys offloading a bunch of shit into your house.”

What?

“What kind of shit?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m going in and I’m about to find out,” he answered.

“Be there in a sec,” I said without further delay. I disconnected and said to Axl, “We need to-go lids.”

He’d obviously read my mood because he was out of his seat, saying. “Leave it.”

Was he crazy?

Leave a perfectly good Chipotle burrito bowl?

“We can’t leave it,” I told him. “Neither of us are even halfway done. And it’s a Chipotle burrito bowl.”

“Ryn, do you have a situation?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll buy you another fuckin’ bowl. Leave it.”

After we dumped our bowls (oh, the humanity!), we hightailed it to my house.

And I realized we had more of a situation than the situation I thought we had when I saw Tack was there, as was Hawk.

And Boone.

“Uh-oh,” I said.

“Fuck,” Axl said.

Axl parked, we both got out, we did that quick, Axl headed to Hawk, and I moved across the lawn to Boone.

“What’s going on?” I asked him.

“You’ve had a delivery.”

Please tell me it’s not a dead body. Please tell me it’s not a dead body. Please tell me it’s not a dead body, I chanted in my head.

“Far’s I can tell from what you’ve shared about your plans, all the flooring, wood and tile, and all the cabinetry for the kitchen. Plus, a Wolf stovetop, a Dacor microwave and oven, a Sub-Zero fridge and a Bosch dishwasher,” Boone shared.