Free Cold Fusion by Olivia Rigal Page A

yourself a package deal?” he says.
    “Nah, it’s just a temporary situation until she finishes her term and figures out something for the coming year.”
    “Not doing her?”
    “For fuck’s sake, Brian, she’s in mourning!”
    Brian raises his hands in surrender. “Just asking.”
    The man is obsessed. While we were in the army, he screwed his way through anything fluffy that moved and looked pretty. That’s one thing we share—we favor fleshy over skinny.
    The difference is that I have to care for a woman before I have sex with her; he doesn’t. He’s simply “taking care of business.” So when I told him I was skeptical about him thinking Lisa was the only one for him, and he’d simply said, “I do what I can until I get my dick and my heart in the same place.”
    My growing affection for Mimi makes it hard for me to understand how he operates. Since I’ve met her, none of the strippers do anything for me no matter how hot their numbers get. What gets to me is watching Mimi’s sweetness with Toussaint. I loved the way she tucked Toussaint in on Sunday night when she came back from the library. I’d taken the kid to the beach in the morning when the sun was out, and when it rained, we went to a movie and an early dinner before coming back home to do his homework. I never knew being a father figure could be so sweet.  
    I shrug and ask, “What’s up with the MC?”  
    “Cracker has his moments,” Brian says. “He’s lucid enough to realize he’ll need to retire soon, and he’s trying to play Everest against me.”
    “That’s stupid. Unless your brother’s about to quit the force… Is he?”
    “I wish I knew,” Brian says. “I’d love to have him on board. He’s a great people reader, and that’s something we could use at the sex club. I could have used him for our last PI job too.”
    “The runaway kids?”  
    “Yep. They had been brainwashed by that pervert into believing anything he said. It was scary. I think Everest would have had some idea about how to handle those kids so they wouldn’t have serious trust issues for the rest of their lives. We were clueless. We knew to bring them back home but not what to tell them.”
    “Raising kids seems like a difficult business to be in,” I say.
    We chat for a while about other members of the MC I know. They’re like distant cousins I used to visit every so often. Some are idiots—but every family needs an idiot cousin or two to make the rest feel good about themselves—some are downright vicious, and some are regular good people. MC families are just like all other families; they just get stuck with a bad rep.  
    Soon it’s time for me to go pick up Toussaint from his track practice. Last week I got there a bit early to watch him run, and I was happy to see him coming around and acting social with his schoolmates.  
    Today I get there just in time. I leave the engine running, and Toussaint hops on the back of my bike, trying to act cool as if he’s been riding all his life. While I wait for Toussaint to strap on Lisa’s helmet, which is just the right size for him, the coach frowns and squints in our direction. The man’s vision ain’t what it used to be, but he can still spot that I’m not the right color to be the boy’s dad. He makes a time-out sign and approaches us.  
    “Hey, Coach, long time no see,” I say.
    He stares at my face, and I can hear his mental Rolodex flipping in his head.  
    Quickly enough he says, “Mayfield.” Looking around, he asks, “Where’s your shadow?”
    “Not far, sir, but I’ll tell him you remembered.” I’m amazed he remembers Brian and me.  
    “As if I could forget the two good-for-nothings who forced me to shave my beard,” he growls.
    “You did what?” Toussaint asks, a new respect for me showing in his eyes.
    “Don’t you dare put such stupid ideas into that young boy’s head!” Coach threatens, but his smile says that in hindsight, he thinks our prank was pretty