"Absolutely."

A waitress arrived, passing out plates of food to the men who had ordered earlier. Jessie's eyes swept around the table, taking in the various plates of heaping food. They were all piled high with different items that all smelled terrific. She looked over at Shades' plate. It was a smothered rib eye, and she practically drooled. "Sweet merciful mother of..."

Shades grinned over at her. "Get you one."

"No way. I couldn't eat all that."

He nodded toward the man across from him. "How about that?"

She looked over to see a stack of pancakes that took up the entire plate. Her eyes got big as she looked back at a grinning Shades. "That pancake is the size of my face."

"You're a goof," he replied.

Ghost handed her a menu.

Mugs of piping hot coffee were brought out quickly and set in front of the two new arrivals.

One of the guys looked over at her. "If you're one of those hippy-dippy coffee snobs, this ain't the place for you."

"I'm not," she replied. But she had spent the last few years in Seattle, the coffee mecca of the world, so, yes, she was spoiled with some superb product. She sipped the coffee, surprised to find it was really good.

Sandman's plate was set before him, and he immediately reached for packets of grape jelly, mixing them in with his scrambled eggs and making a big purple mucky mess.

Jessie arched a brow. "That's grape jelly."

He looked over at her with a conspiratorial look and put the side of his index finger to his lips. "Shh. There's not enough for everybody."

"You're weird," she replied, grinning at him.

"What? That's normal."

Ghost chuckled. "Normal is a destination you ain't ever gonna reach, bro."

Sandman shoveled a big forkful into his mouth and spoke around it. "Ask me if I give a fuck."

One of the men, who she recognized as one of the Omaha Chapter members looked up from his plate. "Menu has all the good stuff. This is our go-to place the morning after a night of general debauchery. Nothing fancy about the place, just good comfort food. You name it, they got it, and the best part, it won't break the bank."

"Home-style on the cheap, bro," Shades said over her head to Ghost.

Sandman shoved a forkful into his mouth and spoke around it. "Food's nothing to complain about."

The man across from him snorted. "You always got something to complain about, Sandman."

Sandman spoke around his mouthful, "Not this, bro. Its as if some wizard cast a spell and created a singularly awesome breakfast."

"Don't mind him. He's stoned," Blood teased.

"I am not," Sandman insisted. "Just hungry."

Jessie couldn't help but giggle.

The waitress came to stand behind her and Ghost. "What'll you two have?"

Jessie looked up to find the woman's eyes on her. She quickly glanced down at the menu and picked something. "Um, toast, bacon and fresh fruit.

Ghost grabbed it out of her hand and handed it to the waitress. "She'll have the Stuffed French Toast. I'll have the Chicken Fried Steak."

After the waitress walked away, Jessie turned to Ghost. "Why did you do that? I'm not that hungry."

"You need to eat. We got a long day of riding ahead of us. And I seem to recall you love strawberries," he added with a grin.

He remembered! Why did that make her want to grin from ear to ear? She sucked her lips into her mouth to keep from doing just that and having the whole table see her reaction.

Shades grinned over at her. "Strawberries, huh?"

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help grinning back. "I like strawberries. What of it?"

His brows shot up, and he looked over her head to Ghost. "She's a feisty one, ain't she?"

"Yup," she heard Ghost reply, and her head whipped around to him.

"I am not!"

"Oh hell yeah, you are." He grinned, taking a sip of his coffee.

The men continued shoveling food in their faces, occasionally pausing long enough to talk, or more accurately make smartass comments back and forth to each other.

It wasn't long before their plates arrived. Her eyes got big when her order was plopped down in front of her. French toast stuffed with strawberries, and topped with whipped cream and powdered sugar.

She didn't waste anytime digging in. At the first bite, she moaned in delight. "Hmm. It's super yummy."

"Did she just say super yummy?" the man called Hammer asked.

"Why yes she did, and I agree," Shades replied with a grin.

When they'd finished with their food and were relaxing over cups of coffee, Ghost turned to her, suggesting, "Maybe you should ride in the chase van with the prospect."

"I'm fine to ride."

"Bullshit. You're hung over, scraped and your ass is sore."

That brought grins out all around the table.

"Oh, really? Why's her ass sore?" Blood asked.

"Yeah, what'd you do to her last night?" Sandman added.

"Shut the fuck up." Then he swung his gaze back to her. "You're in the van."

She huffed out a breath.

"Ooo, the 'woman huff'. Which, in my experience, is never a good thing," Griz teased.

Ghost arched a brow at her, ignoring his brother. "Don't give me any lip."

"Fine!" she snapped.

"Ooo, that's even worse. When a chick says fine, ain't nobody gonna be fine."

Shades got up, chuckling. "Let's go, boys."

They all moved out to the bikes at the curb. The men started mounting up. Ghost stopped next to his bike and held her helmet out to her. She took it, staring up at him.

"Do I have to ride with Yammer again? He talked my ear off the other day."

"How do you think he got his name? Because he won't shut up. Yammer, yammer, yammer. I seriously have my doubts if the brothers are gonna to be able to get past that when it comes time to vote him in."

"Please don't make me ride with him again," she whined pathetically.

Ghost grinned at her and reached an arm around her, his hand slapping down and grabbing her ass cheek for a squeeze.

"Oww," she moaned at the reminder of how sore she was.

"You need more convincing than this?" He gave another squeeze.

"Okay, okay. I give. I'll ride in the bloody van with Chatty Cathy."

Ghost grinned even bigger. "Thought you'd see it my way."

"Do you always get your way?"

"Yup. And don't you forget it, pretty girl." He released her ass cheek, but smacked it one last time, before stepping away.

"Oww. You sadist!" She rubbed her ass and glared at him.

He threw his leg over his bike, lifted it off the kickstand and patted the seat behind him, still grinning. "Climb on, brat."

They rode back to the Omaha clubhouse where the men formed up to roll out. Good to his word, Ghost deposited her back in the van with Yammer.

She leaned back, folded her arms and wished she had her headphones and could tune out to some music. But no, she had to listen to the Prospect drone on for five hundred miles about anything and everything that popped into his mind.

CHAPTER NINE.

They arrived after dark at their second stop. Jessie gazed up at the building. The Saint Louis, Missouri Chapter's clubhouse. It was a medium sized brick building on the edge of an industrial neighborhood west of the old brewery section. It looked like in a past life it may have been a corner tavern. But any welcoming feeling was long gone. It was now marked with Keep Out, Private Property and an assortment of MC signage. There was a parking lot that had been fenced off and gated with chain link fencing that was filled in with security strips that ran in diagonal black and white stripes, the Evil Dead colors.

Some members rolled through the gates and into the compound, while the overflow, Ghost included, parked out on the street in a long line of bikes backed to the curb.

Yammer found a spot half a block down and parked, then walked her down to where Ghost was waiting. He took her by the hand and led her through the gate.

It was pretty much a repeat of the previous night, with ol' ladies and other clubwomen there to welcome home the men like conquering heroes. There was food and booze, and once again it didn't take long for the party to crank up into high gear.

And again, Ghost didn't spend too much time before he led her by the hand through the crowd and back out to his bike and to a motel.

This one was much the same as the last one, except this time she noticed he'd made sure there were two beds.

She watched as he tossed his pack on the bed nearest the door.

She noticed he always put himself between her and the door. That was just his way. Always had been. He always put himself between her and any possible threat.

"I'll take that one. You can have the one closest to the bathroom," she offered mostly just to see if he'd do it.

"Not happening, sweetheart. I'll take the one by the door."

"Why?" she asked, just to see if he would confirm her theory. And he did.

"Anyone tries to come through that door or window, they have to go through me to get to you."

"Oh." And then she remembered the very real threat that someone might just want her dead. And she realized this wasn't a joke. There really was danger out there.

Ghost studied her face. "Yeah, oh."

She bit her lip. "You really think the Death Heads followed us?"

"Doubt it. Just bein' safe."

She looked worriedly toward the window, and he must have seen her reaction because a moment later he was standing in front of her, drawing her attention away from the window.

"Hey."

She looked up at him, the worry still plain on her face, she was sure.

"Nothing's gonna happen. I'm right here, Jess. Not gonna let anybody hurt you. You're safe with me." He stared into her eyes, and she felt a calm come over her. A calm she always felt when she was with him. A calm no one else had ever made her feel.

She believed him. Every word.

His eyes were searching hers, waiting, so she nodded. "I know. I believe you."

He stood there another moment longer, studying her. Then he, too, nodded once and stepped away.

"I notice we didn't stay long at the clubhouse," she commented to his back as he dug around in his pack. He glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Figured you were tired. And the boys get a little wild. And I sure as hell didn't want a repeat of this morning."