Ride Steady (Chaos #3)(110)

His gut froze as he pushed out, “Carrie?”

“No, honey,” she said softly. “You.”

“Me what?” he asked curtly.

“Twenty minutes ago, I got a call from Wilde and Hay,” she told him.

“Say again?” he asked.

“Wilde and Hay,” she repeated.

“What the f*ck is that?”

Her brows drew together. “You don’t know Wilde and Hay?”

Joker began to get impatient. “Respect, Cherry, but got shit I wanna get done today on my car and Carrie’s got the day shift. Means I wanna be at her house when she’s there, which means I gotta get shit done.”

“Wilde and Hay is a magazine, Joker,” she informed him.

“Right, and…?” he prompted.

“A very good magazine,” she kept on. “Glossy. Respected. They do serious stuff, big-time exposés. They also do in-depth interviews with celebrities. Not the ass-kissing kind. The no-bullshit kind. They get into politics. They do travel spreads. They do reviews of movies, music, TV. They dig into social issues. They use the best photographers—”

Joker cut her off, “Babe, not sure why you’re tellin’ me this.”

“They want to do an article on Ride.”

Joker stared.

Then he grinned. “Fuckin’ awesome.”

“Yes, Joke,” she said softly, watching him intently. “They said they want to interview the brothers who do the builds but with a focus on the brothers who do the designs. They sent me pictures of the builds they want to feature and asked for the brothers who designed those builds specifically. I just got their email.” She reached a hand to her computer. “And these are the builds they want to feature.”

She pushed her monitor around and he looked down at it. There was an email open with pictures on it. She put her hand to her mouse and scrolled down.

There were six builds. They were all his.

“In other words, Joke”—she said as he watched the images scroll—“they want you.”

He looked back to her.

“They’re sending Henry Gagnon,” she kept going. “And before you ask, he’s the freaking best photographer out there. He does celebrities. He does models. He goes to war-torn nations and he does that. He does everything. He had an exhibit at the Denver Art Museum, and I dragged Tack to it and even Tack said the guy was the shit. Because he just is. And they want him taking pictures of your builds, you building them, and you.”

“If you’re askin’, tell ’em yes. It’ll be good for Ride,” Joker said to her. “But there’s more than just me to any build, Cherry. They come, they focus on all we do here.”

Her head tipped to the side, “I don’t think you—”

She didn’t finish because the door to the front opened and they both looked that way to watch Tack walk through.

He smiled at his old lady but then he looked to Joker and came direct to him.

Joker knew by the expression on Tack’s face and what came next that Cherry had called her husband with this news.

And what came next was that Tack walked right to him, lifted his hand, gripped Joker at the back of the neck, and yanked him forward.

At this, Joker went still.

He’d seen Tack do that to Rush, back in the day when Rush was a kid and Joker had stood at the fence watching, and he did it still.

He’d also seen Tack give to Rush what he did next.

Tack yanked him forward and their chests collided, Tack’s hand tightened rough on Joker’s neck as he wound his arm around and pounded Joker on his back, doing it hard.

But it felt good.

Then Tack fisted his hand in the back of his shirt and held him there as he said low and gravelly in his ear, “I knew it, brothers knew it. We wanted you with us because we wanted you with us. But Hop and Boz said straight out, you had the talent to take Ride to the next level. You did, and you didn’t f*ck around doin’ that.” He pulled back but didn’t let go as he looked Joker in the eyes. “This is good seein’ as my woman’s baby crazy, and I reckon by the time we’re done I’ll be forkin’ out about twelve college tuitions.” He grinned big. “And you’re gonna make it so I can afford that.”

Joker could say nothing. Taking in the look on Tack’s face, gratification, pride, respect, feeling all Tack just gave him, his mind couldn’t bring up words.

Luckily, at this juncture, Cherry butted in.

“After Cut turned up the oven when I was cooking brownies and incinerated them and the pan they were in, I’ve decided I don’t want another child, because I may not cook often but my husband’s good at it and I like shoes, not to have to buy new kitchen items every other week. In other words, since we have our hands full, I’m pushing Shy to get his shit together so he and Tab can essentially give me a baby by having their own. That way, their kid can incinerate brownies and I get to laugh but my pans are safe.”

Tack let Joker go to turn to his wife and the look he’d been giving Joker was gone.

Completely.

Now he looked sick.

“Do not say that shit to me again,” he ordered.

“What shit?” Cherry asked, looking confused.

“Talkin’ to me about my baby girl pushin’ out a kid.”