The Possibility of Trey (7 page)

But, to know he was the big-dog of the pack?

Holy shit, were the only words that came to mind as I tried to control the trembling in my knees as I forced my hands to continue their movements.

"Wow, real dishes for take-out, huh?" Trey's eyes were roaming over the carefully laid table my mom had insisted on. His eyes came to mine as I unloaded all the different containers in the carrier bags sitting on the counter. I pointed my chin at her as she moved towards the table with my dad who was whispering something about her wearing perfume in such a way it made her giggle and blush.

"You set a beautiful table, Mrs. Sheridan," Trey said as he pulled out her chair. It was the perfect thing to say at just the perfect moment, and I knew he saw the gratitude in my eyes by the chin lift he gave me in response before he seated himself.

"We don't have enough serving pieces so we'll be dipping into the original containers. I hope nobody minds," I said as I began to set out all the different food Trey had bought in the center of the table and shoved a large spoon in each. There was so much of it, such a wealth of selection, I knew I'd have to store a lot of it on the counters since there just wasn't enough room on our scarred wooden table.

"I didn't know who could eat what, so I asked for a little of everything. It's all cooked without that MSG stuff or soy sauce, but I snagged plenty of packets for those that like it." Trey passed my mom one of the containers of white rice before helping himself to one of containers of noodles.

"Goddamn, this is good!" my dad exclaimed, nibbling on a rib. "We need to have Chinese more often, Dallas."

Yeah, right. We didn't have the money to get Chinese more often and since they wanted to charge me extra for all the substitutions and then would get the order wrong, I'd given up on doing Chinese food for our little family.

"I guess I should fill you in on how your boy's been doing over the last few days," Trey started, using a napkin to wipe his mouth.

"We hope he's not given you any trouble, Mr. Jackson," my mother murmured with a frown.

I kept my eyes on my plate waiting for him to speak, to tell us that my brother was a thug and a brat and that there was no way he'd be able to help us or Drake.

"Nothing we can't handle. He tried to play tough guy and declined to eat the first couple of days," Trey started and the clank of my dad's fork on the plate was loud enough to interrupt him.

"I didn't raise him to be disrespectful, Mr. Jackson." My father's face was bright red as he held himself stiffly erect.

"No, sir, I'm sure you didn't. But Drake's at an age where he needs to start answering for his own actions." Trey's voice, though firm, held respect as he responded to my father. "You boy's got a bit of a temper on him and it took a couple of days before he decided to settle in."

"What do you mean, Trey?" I wasn't real sure I wanted to know having been on the receiving end of that temper on more than a few occasions.

"Maybe I should explain in more detail," Trey advised and gained a nod from my dad before continuing. "We've done this kind of thing before and have found that having the women bring the food trays to the kids sometimes settles them. Kind of a good cop/bad cop setup. Some of these boys respond better to women. Anyway, Drake decided to decline dinner the first night and let Vanessa know by throwing the tray at her."

"Is Vanessa one of the Honeys that Miller told me about?" my mother asked softly as she drew the tines of her fork through the rice on her plate.

"Mary described the symbol on the back of your cut and I told her about the Hellions and the Honeys," dad stated to fill in the blanks. "Back in the day, most of us regular guys kept up with what was going on at your club. Forewarned being forearmed and all."

The chair Trey was sitting in creaked as he shifted his weight. I got the impression he wasn't happy that my folks knew of his club affiliation.

"Yes, sir. She is. Actually, we all call her Lock."

"Isn't that the Stemson's girl?" my dad said, wiping his mouth and sitting back in his chair.

"Yeah. Both she and her brother are involved in the club," Trey answered slowly. I think he was still unsure of the reaction he was going to get at news that HMC was involved in our family's life.

"Damn, that's good to know. Those two caused more problems for Stem when they were growing up than he could handle." Dad shook his head at whatever memory was going through his head.

"Mill, let him tell us about Drake. You men can catch up another time, okay?" My mom's suggestion held merit because I knew my dad was hungry for news of the town and his old running buddies. Once started, that kind of conversation would be hard to stop.

"Let me guess. Lock didn't take his shit and let Drake know in a way that it'll take days to heal." My dad started chuckling as soon as the words were out. Hearing my mother's quick gasp, he reached for her hand and patted it. "Ah, Mary. It's the best thing for the little fucker. To get beat down by a goddamn girl? And one that looks like Lock? Shit, it's the best thing for him."

"Miller!" my mom said, her eyes shooting towards Trey which I knew was due to my dad's language.

"Mrs. Sheridan, anything your husband says that I can't spell is what I'll get offended by, okay?"

"Do go on, Mr. Jackson," my mother said while dropping her eyes as one hand fiddled with her collar. By my eye, her coloring was just a little to fervent and I stepped away from the table to grab her one of her nitro pills to slip under her tongue.

"So, after a couple of rounds of that, he's decided to eat. We just received the approval from the court for online education that he'll start tomorrow. I know it's Saturday but we need to get him up to speed as soon as possible and his transcripts show he's failing all of his classes this year." Trey kept his eyes moving between the three of us as he worked through what my brother was currently experiencing and what was expected of him.

"You guys still doing KP down at the compound?" my dad prompted.

"Yes, sir, and tomorrow is his first day at laundry. He'll also start twenty-four hour maid service for the other five rooms as well as his own while working the sink at the clubhouse," Trey went on to explain.

"Little shit is gonna be too tired to get pissed off." Dad stoked his chin as he thought.

"And too bone weary to be a tough-guy," Trey finished. "But, if he still tries that crap we've got a lot of bikes that need polishing." He turned his beautiful red-brown eyes to me. "A
lot
."

Trey must've caught my mother's sniff about the same time I did because he half-turned in his chair and draped an arm around my mother's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sheridan. I didn't tell you this to upset you. Your boy is getting the absolute best care but we've gotta break him down before we teach him how a man is supposed to behave."

"Damn straight," my dad said with a head nod. "And we're grateful for it too, Mr. Jackson. Just wish it could've been us he learned it from, though."

I didn't know how I felt about what Drake would be going through. I wasn't as soft as my mom but wasn't quite as convinced as my dad seemed to be that a biker compound was the best place for him. It was the whole biker side of the equation I was having the most trouble getting over.

I looked at the gorgeous man seated next to me to find his eyes were already on me. And it seemed that his next words were for me and me alone.

"We all have to find our own way. Some of us discover it easily, some of us take the hard road. But no one does it without help."

I saw Trey's amazing eyes soften, just like they'd done in both the hallway and my dreams as they dropped to my mouth.

"And I'm here to help."

Trey watched the buxom brunette working her sequined thong against the brass pole of 'Tomatoes' as if it actually had a dick. She thrust and then slid down before gluing her mound to the length of brass as she moved back up. Her legs went on for days and her hair, at ass level, only added to his viewing pleasure.

The stripper must have caught him looking because by the time his gaze met her face, she brought a finger up to her lips and performed a kittenish, wide-eyed blink at him.

Oh,
hell
to the no.

That innocent shit was for the totally wasted or the sickos who got off thinking the half naked woman doing the ol' bump and grind was the young girl of their high school dreams.

It absolutely was fucking
not
for him.

"Think I'm gonna call it a night," Trey said, leaning towards Dare whose eyes were glued to the little blonde hanging upside down by her ankles on the pole to the right. "Christ, how does she fucking do that?"

"I know, right? And watch, her boobs never move, Trey. No matter what position she gets into, those goddamn jugs never fucking budge."

Trey stared for a moment and had to agree. He'd never seen a rack that didn't jiggle or bounce in some fashion, but the girl's breasts were like concrete, completely and totally unmoving. It was like they defied the laws of nature or some shit. Even of the surgical kind.

"Catch you, tomorrow," Trey advised, throwing down a Ben which he knew meant he'd left a ridiculous tip but he didn't have anything smaller in his wallet and he wasn't willing to wait for change. Dare nodded his way but the man's eyes were glued to the wonder of the ever-still tits.

Trey recognized he had a restlessness growing within him. A jitter that had started on Friday night as he'd sat in the living room of the Sheridan's, watching 'Shawshank Redemption' on Drake's 27 inch flat screen TV that had been moved into the front room. And viewed through the game console that had also been hidden in the little pisser's room. He'd been glad to see that the family was making use of what the kid had hoarded but it was the sitting next to Dallas which had caused the edginess to surface.

Her parents had taken the couch which left him nothing but the loveseat to sit on. And as soon as she'd done the kitchen tidy, his little plumber had joined him on the small seat in the dimly lit room. She'd brought both her dad and Trey a beer when she'd finally joined them which he'd found endearing since she hadn't even asked beforehand.

He'd watched as she'd tucked her small self into a corner of the small unit, sitting more on her legs than that perfect ass. And, outside of a few head flicks to settle her wealth of layered, ebony hair, her eyes had remained on the screen, seemingly engrossed in the story.

Trey hadn't been able to take his eyes off her.

Oh yeah, he'd looked for holes in the perfection she presented because he was good at finding the chinks in other people's armor. But he'd, honest to god, found none. Not in her glowing skin, her healthy shining hair or her curvy form. She wasn't actually tiny but only seemed so when he stood next to her. She was…all of a piece.

Although the bright blue glitter polish on her toes had been a shock. For some reason, Trey figured that a woman who didn't use makeup wouldn't do the other kind of girlie things like nail polish. But her toes, those ten perfectly shaped appendages had sported ten tiny scoops of bright blue glitter.

And the sight had caused a deep throb in the hard-on he'd been sporting since she'd met him in the kitchen.

It had been heaven to sit next to her, just hearing her breathe as she'd watched the movie he'd brought for them to enjoy. And it had been hell because he didn't know how to deal with what he'd been feeling. Christ! He was in his mid-thirties and had been around the block more times than he'd admit to but what she had was something he wanted.

And wanted in a bad way.

He'd thought it would be an easy goodbye. A small hug to her mom and a handshake to her dad as she saw him to the door but no. She had to walk him out to his Harley, her hands sunk deep in the back pockets of the boy-sized 501's she sported, the sound of her wallet chain and her glittering flip-flops marking her steps.

"Thanks for the food, the movie and the intel, Trey," she said quietly as they stood next to his bike. He remembered how he'd curled his fingers into his palms to stop himself from grabbing her as he'd wanted to do. From dragging her against him so he could plummet that beautiful mouth and discover all the tastes of Dallas Sheridan in her natural form. He settled for shifting the hair off her forehead, careful to only use one finger but doing it slow enough to gain him a widening of her eyes.

"It was both my honor and pleasure," he'd replied and recognized the truth in every word he said. She and her family had a quiet dignity that had held him captive both times he'd been with them which he knew that it wasn't something easy to come by especially in their circumstances. Why her ass-clown brother had chosen a different direction was anyone's guess.

"You'll be able to see him next Friday," Trey'd reminded but he'd watched for her reaction carefully. He wanted her to want to be with him again, without excuses or reasons but simply because they were attracted to each other.

And he knew without a fucking shadow of a doubt that they were.

"I'm looking forward to it." Her eyes were shimmering gray in nothing but the street lights on the road where she lived. "But tonight was…fun. We don't get a whole lot of fun in the scheme of things."