Chaos series by Kristen Ashley

Okay, well, I could imagine that none of that was fun, not to mention it had to be time consuming and pricey.

“When’s your lease up?” Tack pushed.

“It’s month to month. Where I am, they know not to try for anything over six months. Tenants are pretty transient,” I told him. “Once I did my first six months, they went month to month.”

“Notice?” he asked.

“I’d have to check but I think it’s a week.”

“Give it. We’ll get you in. Boys’ll help. First up, Tyra’ll show you around so you know it’s where you wanna be.”

I already knew it was where I wanted to be. Me, Travis, a clean, nice little house that was not in my current neighborhood. It was where I wanted to be.

But taking advantage of them wasn’t who I wanted to be.

I opened my mouth to reply, not knowing how to turn them down, but I didn’t get a word out.

The front door opened again, all eyes went to it, including mine, and I shut my mouth as this time my heart skipped before it squeezed when Joker strode in.

Unfortunately, my ride with Snapper had worn off by Sunday morning. I knew this when I woke up with a strange ache that had Joker and his brunette written all over it. Luckily, I had work to take my mind off of it and Travis back so the ache went away when my little boy again filled my life.

But even with work (and Travis) I thought of pretty much nothing but Joker, and I’d come to the realization that it wasn’t Joker’s fault. He didn’t lead me on. He didn’t give any indications (outside of returning that kiss) that he was interested at all.

So it was all me.

Still, it had hurt.

And seeing him right then, the ache came back.

I felt it settle in as Joker did much the same as Tack when he entered, except he came around the outside of the bar, and after giving lifts and tips of his chin to the others in the room, his eyes came to me.

“Butterfly,” he muttered.

Another heart squeeze.

Nicknames, obviously, were a biker thing. Joker’s parents hadn’t named him Joker, for sure. And Shy wasn’t Shy, Tabby had told me Saturday night his real name was Parker. Same with High, Snapper, and the rest (though I didn’t know their real names, I just knew what Tab referred to as their Club names).

That said, Ride and Cut were Tyra and Tack’s kids’ names, but shortened from Rider and Cutter.

So a nickname was the thing with biker clubs.

Still, I wished butterfly had a different meaning.

As I was wishing this, Joker sauntered right past me.

And he did this to go straight to Big Petey.

And he did this so he could firmly pull Travis from Pete’s arms, lift him up so they were face to face, and ask, “How goes it, kid?”

Taking that in, I suddenly had trouble breathing.

Travis screamed with glee and latched on with both hands to Joker’s beard.

Joker pulled him forward like he was going to give him a kiss, but he didn’t. He just touched his forehead to Travis’s before he dropped him down, making Travis lose purchase on his whiskers. He then tucked Travis’s little tush in his hand, settling his back in the curve of his arm, and turned to me.

“All good?” he asked.

Although I wasn’t certain about his question, at that moment, Joker holding my son right in front of me, all was definitely good.

“Uh… yeah,” I mumbled.

Then, in order to remain sane, I tore my eyes from Joker and saw that Big Petey had his head dropped to look at his lap, but I could see the side of his face and his lips were turned up.

I cast my gaze behind the bar and saw Tyra looked like she was trying not to laugh. Her eyes were on Joker, and they were dancing.

Tack was also looking at Joker, and his lips were curved up as well, but he was also shaking his head.

I didn’t know what any of this meant, and I didn’t give it any time to figure it out.

I couldn’t.

Because I didn’t know what to do.

Or say.

What I did know was that that ache had both intensified and lessened. The contradiction couldn’t be real, but it was and I knew it because I could feel it.

“You tell her about your place?” Joker asked and I turned my eyes back at him to see he was addressing Tack and Tyra.

“Yeah,” Tack replied. “She’s movin’ in at the end of the month.”

I opened my mouth again and again didn’t get anything out before Joker spoke.

“Good. It’s safe, Carrie, and clean. It’s also close to LeLane’s.”

My body locked.

Carrie?

I stared at him and the ache was gone.

Then something he said hit me.

“It’s close to LeLane’s?” I asked.

“Your store. Only maybe five, ten minute drive away,” Joker answered.

In my life, five, ten minutes was a far sight better than twenty. Not to mention, I’d save on gas money. Not thousands of dollars, but every savings meant something to me.

Further, I absolutely intended to pay Big Petey something for looking after Travis, but I knew whatever that was would probably not come close to what I was paying my daycare center. Travis’s center was awesome, but it was expensive.

My current rent was super cheap. But paying whatever I was going to pay Big Petey, which would be less than what I was currently paying for daycare, would more than likely cover the additional it would cost to live at Tyra’s old place.

And bottom line, where I lived was noisy. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t attractive. It wasn’t well kept. It was too small. And I lived on the third floor. Since I was no way in heck going to leave my son in my apartment while I carried up groceries (or whatever) that meant I had to climb two flights of stairs repeatedly, carting up whatever I had to cart up along with Travis. And that was a pain in the behind.

All this meant I had no choice but to accept their kindness.

Again.

Maybe, when I became a stylist, Tyra would let me do her hair for free and let me do this for eternity.

I looked from Joker to Tack and Tyra. “Can we arrange for Travis and me to look at it tomorrow? Say, after I get done with my shift?”

Tyra’s face lit up. “Sure thing.”

“Notice today, though, babe,” Tack ordered.

I nodded.

“Yo,” we all heard.

I looked the other way, leaning to the side, and saw Snapper in nothing but long shorts and gym shoes, carrying a ribbed white tank top in his hand, his rather well-defined chest on display (and covered in a sheen of sweat). He was heading out of the doorway that led to the side hall and also to what I’d learned on cleaning day was a meeting room, a workout room, some locked doors I didn’t know what they were, and a laundry room.