around.
Slade comes back in with two beers and hands me one.
“If you’re driving us back to the motel then you’re not drinking,” I warn him.
His eyebrows shoot up into forehead as the bottle is about to hit his lips.
“Don’t you think I can handle one beer?” he asks, cocking one eyebrow at me.
“I think you can handle a lot of things but you’re not driving us if you have a drink, especially with my son in the car.”
“Fair enough.”
For the next hour I continuously ask him questions about this town and his life here. He answers every time and I’m left wondering what made him join a motorcycle club? I leave that question for a different day.
Earlier Slade had put the TV on choosing a cartoon channel for Zachery, so far I haven’t heard a peep out of him.
Slade’s been in the kitchen for the last twenty minutes, with the doorway just off the living room I wander over and lean in the doorway so I can speak with Slade and still keep an eye on Zachery.
“You constantly surprise me,” I tell him, watching him stir something in one of the pots.
“How so?” he smirks.
“You don’t strike me as a cooking type of guy, that’s all.”
“You’ve judged us from day one haven’t you?” he laughs.
“Pretty much, I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, most people do. And just so you know, I know how to look after myself. I can also use a washer and a vacuum.”
“Quite the domestic biker aren’t you,” I tease him.
“I have more talents than that,” he winks.
“You’ll have to prove it,” I flirt.
For once he looks like how he makes me feel, hot and needy. I don’t think it is just me.
“If you stick around, I will.”
I can’t help but smile at him. I feel like I should be embarrassed or horrified at how I am acting around him, but it is him who makes me feel comfortable to do so. Even with Billy I was never this forward.
“I should get Zachery washed up for dinner,” I say, before fleeing into the living room.
When Zachery is in ear shot the conversation doesn’t veer into flirting territory too much.
There are no awkward silence through dinner. He tells me about the club, although I get the feeling he isn’t telling me everything. Zachery does his copying everything the biker does thing again, eating when Slade does, drinking his juice when Slade drinks his coke. Slade notices this time and eats slower so Zachery finishes his meal this time.
An act so small to someone else is gigantic to me, not everyone would care enough to do that.
“If your food is going cold, you don’t have to wait for Zachery,” I tell him knowing Zachery could take another fifteen minutes to finish.
“If he eats more because of me then I don’t mind,” he smiles across the table.
Slade had plumped up one of the chairs with pillows so Zachery could have his own seat and still reach the table.
“Did you have a nice time with Alannah yesterday?” he asks.
“Yes, she’s very nice. I now believe her and Billy weren’t together.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong about them two. Would it be a problem if they were?”
“No, he was my friend that’s all,” I am getting fed up saying it, “I didn’t come here for me, only for Zachery.”
He hears the irritation in my voice and drops the topic of Billy.
“Looks like Zach is finished,” he says, drawing my attention to the empty plate.
“That’s the first meal he’s ever finished,” I admit happily.
“He doesn’t say much does he.”
“No, the only noise you hear from him is crying or the occasional giggle.”
I am about to clear our plates when Slade beats me to it and loads the dishwasher.
Very domestic indeed.
After cleaning up Zachery, I am back on the couch feeling content after our steak dinner with him falling asleep on my lap.
Slade comes in from the kitchen and when noticing Zachery, joins us cautiously as not to wake him.
“I’m glad you came over,” he says, quietly.
“Me too, thank you
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley