Page 32 of Axle's Angel
“Well shit,” I mutter and she giggles. “I’ll introduce you to him tomorrow if you want, but he’s coming to your party this weekend.”
“My party?”
“Yeah, Angel. You'll be the first Ol’ Lady from this generation of SOMC brothers. We’re having a party to celebrate and welcome you. I’ll give you your cut in front of my brothers.”
“Can Siera and the girls come?”
“Absolutely,” I assure her. “It will be a family thing, club only. Actually scratch that, Maverick will invite the guys from the wells.”
“Do I need to do anything for it? Food or something?” Angel wants to know.
Shaking my head, I tell her, “Nope, Lala will handle the food, and the drinks are already ordered. All you have to do is turn up. Fucking thrilled to make you mine, Angel.”
“Me too,” she whispers, pressing her lips to mine. “You ready to take me to bed, Mr. Peele?
“Always, sweetheart,” I reply, standing with her in my arms. We ignore the glasses left on the table and the blanket discarded on the floor. We’re completely wrapped up in each other.
She agreed to be my Ol’ Lady. That was the first step, the next step is marrying her and tying her to me so that I never lose her again.
Chapter 11
Angel
Holy shit, this is a lot of people.
Seems that being the first Ol’ Lady to be announced in years is a big deal. There must be close to eighty people milling about. Kids, women, men in leather cuts and some that looked like plain old cowboys. This chapter of the Saint’s Outlaws may not be huge, but it employs many people, and they were all here to celebrate Axle taking an Ol’ Lady.
For someone that wasn’t used to loads of people, it was pretty overwhelming. Garret had been called away a few minutes ago. The garage had a problem. He hadn’t left my side since we arrived, and I’d met all his brothers. It was my own fault that I was alone right now. He’d wanted me to go with him, but I hadn’t wanted to look like a weenie and had waved him away, assuring him I’d be fine.
I wasn’t.
Pressing my back against the wall of the clubhouse, I draw further into the shadows as I survey the scene in front of me. Tables occupy spaces near the kitchen beneath gazebos.
They’re groaning with every sort of salad available, all cradled on trays of ice, ensuring they stay lovely and fresh. There are trays and trays of meat waiting to be put onto the four barbecues.
Lala commanded like a drill instructor, and watching the burly biker men obey her orders provided amusement. Coolers overflowed with ice and drinks. It was a warmish day for September in North Dakota, but I knew it would get cooler in the evening, and I’m guessing that’s what the three bonfires were for. They’d be lit later in the evening.
My gaze catches and holds on Garret’s best friend sitting on top of a picnic table that’s pushed up against another building. I’m not sure what it’s used for, a storeroom maybe. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I make a beeline for him. I may not know him well, but he’s not a complete stranger in a sea of strangers. Plus, if he’s best friends with Garrett, then I know he’s a good guy.
“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks, amusement in his tone as I clamber up on the table and sit next to him.
“Too many people,” I gasp.
“You own a shop,” he chuckles, “surely you’re used to people.”
Turning my head, I glare at him. “They don’t all descend at once.”
He chuckles and nods, “True.”
“Anyway, why are you sitting here by yourself and not cracking a beer with your brothers?”
“Just thinking,” he admits. “Don’t feel like socialising right now.”
“Oh, you should have said. Sorry Roman.”
I go to climb off the picnic table only to be stopped by his hand clamping onto my thigh. “Not you Angel,” he pats my leg before clasping his hands together between his knees. “You’re not bothering me. Stay. That way I can be honest when I tell Axle you’re fine when he checks in.”
Shocked, I whip my head around to him, “He checks in?”
