Then this past week, I was talking to a couple who came in for dinner, and the woman mentioned she was looking to rent out her place. It sounds amazing and I’m excited to go take a look after the weekend. From what Meredith tells me it’s a rustic, one-bedroom A-frame with a full wall of windows looking out on the mountains.
“I’ve got your keg.”
Wapi, one of my self-assigned protectors, sticks his head in the door. He mentioned he’d bring by a fresh keg from the microbrewery for the tap.
“Good morning to you too,” I tease him.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, an embarrassed blush staining his cheeks immediately. “Mornin’, I’m just here to hook it up for you.”
“That’d be awesome, thank you.”
He reminds me of my brother, is probably about the same age as well. Except, the way Wapi looks at me is far from brotherly. I feel bad; I don’t have any feelings for him that go beyond friendship. Even though he’s handsome, probably one of the kindest, most softhearted men I know, and would be good to me, there are no sparks on my part.
Not like the ones I feel around another Arrow’s Edge MC member.
Unlike his club brother, Tse is dark, smoldering, cocky, and would undoubtedly break my heart. The two men have come close to exchanging blows, a few times, with me in the middle. Not a place I particularly want to be.
I’ve managed to avoid the club and Tse since I came back to Durango—I haven’t seen him once—but Wapi has been here almost every night since we opened. Helping me get settled in behind the bar, sitting on a stool keeping me company, or jumping in when we’re shorthanded.
Tse has been pointedly absent.
Maybe he’s found someone else to toy with, which would be a good thing.
So why is it I’m disappointed he hasn’t shown his face?
Tse
“Ravi, grab your shit, kid.”
The boy drags his ass from the edge of the creek where he’s been skipping rocks since breakfast.
“Do we gotta go?”
“Yeah. Time to go home.”
Ravi is the youngest of the kids Paco and I brought up here. Even after having been with the club for over a year, the boy was having trouble fitting in, which is why we ended up taking him, even though he’s not quite fourteen.
This trip to Glenwood Springs was an opportunity to teach the boys some responsibility, some basic skills, and hopefully be a team-building exercise. We have two sixteen-year-old boys in the club’s care, who regularly feel the need to measure their dicks. It was high time to teach each of them a little humility.
I’d been looking for an excuse to get out of town for a while and found this two-week Habitat for Humanity build in Glenwood Springs. When I mentioned it to Trunk, our resident child psychologist, he came up with the idea to bring Elan and Maska.
Ravi had been an afterthought. He’s mature for his age, which is probably why he’s not really jelling with the younger boys, and the older ones ignore him.
The five of us have been camping at Elk Creek for the past two weeks and the kids have come a long way. Ravi still seems to prefer his own company, but he seems less out of place. He held his own working hard on the build during the days, and shared equally in camp duties with everyone else. He’s proven himself equal to the older boys, who seem to have found a balance as well.
Yesterday was the final day on the four-home build. We stayed for the barbecue organized and donated by local restaurants and watched the new homeowners take possession. That had left an impression, especially on Ravi, who hasn’t said much since last night, which is why Paco suggested he ride home with me. He left ten minutes ago with the others.
The kid seems to have taken a shine to me, following me around the construction site and asking a million and one questions about the carpentry work he was helping me with. Maybe without the other kids listening in I’ll be able to get him to tell me why he’s so quiet.
“All your stuff in the back, Bud?”
“Yeah.”
“Then close the gate and let’s get on the road. See if we can beat those other guys home.”
That earns me a little grin. Ravi is as competitive as I am.
“You think we can?” he wants to know, getting in the passenger seat and buckling up.
“Beat them? Heck, yeah. Paco drives like a grandma.”
I smile when I hear his chuckle and floor the gas the moment the tires hit hardtop.
It’s been a good couple of weeks. Work, eat, and sleep for the most part, but we did get a few hikes and some fishing in. Life boiled down to simple basics was a welcome change.
I don’t mind the physical work; it keeps my hands and therefore my head busy. I’ve always been good with my hands; I like building things. Something tangible to show for your efforts. It gives me a sense of purpose I was lacking most of my life.
We’d just finished adding a wing to Lisa and Brick’s cottage when Ouray asked me to build a bar for the new restaurant. That was a fun project, using only repurposed wood, and I’m proud of the result.
Unfortunately, I haven’t been back to see the whole place finished. I skipped the official opening of the Backyard Edge and kept a low profile at the club. This Habitat for Humanity build provided a good excuse to get out of town for a while, but that’s come to an end. Going home it’ll be tough to keep my distance.
Fuck, I about lost it on Ouray when I found out he’d asked her to manage the restaurant. Sophia: the woman who almost caused a rift between brothers.
I knew she was trouble when she first walked into the club last year. The kind of trouble that would pit
