“How’s it going, darlin’?”
“Really good. You still at the mill?”
“Just finished up. Just gonna borrow a good axe and head home. That one you got is old and rusty. I ain’t in the mood for a tetanus shot.”
“Chopping more wood?”
“Something like that. When you coming home?”
Home. She really liked the sound of him referring to her home as theirs. It was his. Ever since he told Antonio to take her mother out of
his
house. He claimed it that night. He claimed her way before that. She checked the time on her phone. “It’s almost four. We’re staying open till six and Marie and Cyndi are closing. Five or so.”
“Perfect.”
“For what?”
“
You’ll see.”
~~~***~~~
Ben had built a small fire, sat in his chair and waited for Eva to come through the front door after hearing her pull in. When she did, he recognized the initial look on her face. He knew she smelled it before she saw it. The strong, aromatic scent of pine. And then she saw it. A fat, blue spruce positioned right in front of the bay window, standing strong and sturdy bolted to a stand filled with water. Both hands went to her mouth as she smiled wide through them. “Ben, it’s…….perfect. It’s exactly where I wanted to put it too.”
She never told him that, but somehow he knew. They’d see it through the window when they pulled up at night, lights, tinsel and ornaments twinkling through the window. She touched the stiff needles. “I don’t think I have enough decorations for it.”
“We’ll buy ‘em. We’ll buy whatever you want.”
“I have to go easy, Ben. I’m sinking every extra dollar into the kitchen.”
“
We
, Eva.
We
are. This is my house, too.”
He was dead serious. He was going to share the comfort as well as the burden. Which reminded him of something he wanted to talk to her about, but not now. He planned on it. In another week – Christmas Eve. There was a reason. Blame his methodical thinking. But first thing’s first – this tree could not be bare. “Let’s get all the Christmas shit this Sunday. We’ll decorate it that night.”
“Can we go into Penn? There’s a place there where I got the living room furniture. Like a little village – all filled with consignment stores, antique shops and stuff. About a ninety minute ride. We’ll have to take my jeep since we’ll have shopping bags.”
He didn’t like cages – especially with his size. And driving out of state meant no cut. And shopping meant bags of……stuff. But he was slowly beginning to shed that claustrophobic shell. Even this big, fat tree taking up so much space in the living room, Ben felt anything but suffocated. Not here. Not in this house. His home.
But she was right - she couldn’t carry her purchases on a ninety minute bike ride. “Whatever you want, darlin’?”
He meant it. He really did.
~~~***~~~
After buying enough tree decorations to choke Godzilla, he and Eva headed back down from Butler County, Pennsylvania en route to a casual dinner. As promised, he cut over to Route 40 and headed towards Ziggy’s. Inside, the old owner barely acknowledged Ben, instead giving Eva a charming look and a hug. “And who is this?”
“Eva.” He took a deep breath and let it out with the next set of words. “My ol’ lady.”
Ziggy gave him a disconcerting look. “You with all your…….biker mumbo-jumbo. This beautiful, young thing shouldn’t be called an ol’ anything.” He escorted them to Ben’s favorite table. “Sit, sit. Usual?”
Ben held up two fingers. “Make it two. I’ll have beer and…..?”
Eva gave Ziggy a questioning look. “Wine?”
“I keep a bottle or two for the ladies. Be right back.”
He snuggled her next to him in the circular, wooden booth while she looked back. “You’ve known him a long time?”
“He worked with my ol’ man at the mines. Was there that day.” Ben slid one sleeve of his flannel up to reveal his forearm – the one bearing ink dedicated to his dad. Thomas Lawson, his birth and death years, were accompanied by a sketching of a miner’s hat and a pick. Eva reached over to hold his arm. “Ziggy was the one who came to the house to give us the news of the collapse. He wasn’t all the way in when it happened. Was able to escape. When he showed up at our trailer, he was practically head to toe soot. No one came to someone’s house like that, unless something was wrong.”
Eva leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
A beer and a glass of wine were put on the table – by the redhead he nailed outside the night after he killed his sister. The same night he met the woman leaning against him. With a flick of his eyes, he motioned her away. A one-time fuck didn’t hold a candle to the woman next to him. Two plates followed with Ziggy’s withering arms attached to them. “Enjoy, young lovers.”
They ate in silence.
~~~***~~~
They were up late, putting the finishing touches on the tree when Ben’s phone went off. He excused himself, meaning it was the club. Eva opened a box of faux snow covered gardenias and inserted them within the branches. Ben had rolled his eyes when she picked them out – obviously girly flowers didn’t belong on a Christmas tree. She then put aside several packages of icicles Ben wanted to hang around the front porch and down the railings when he walked back in. “Hey.”
“What?”
He shook his phone. “That was Vic. Got a call from Antonio. Carmine passed away early this morning.”
Eva sat on the couch, clearly not knowing how to feel about this. “I……I don’t know what to say. I mean, I feel bad he died – that he had to fight that disease. We only had three dinners together.” It would’ve been four, but with the plaza event kicking off the day after Thanksgiving, Eva asked to be excused due to ‘Black Friday’. “He’s my father, but…….he’s a stranger.”
“Said you wouldn’t have to endure for long. He wasn’t kidding.”
“I never thought that. It was hard…..awkward. And, yeah, it messed with my head. My life, but…….” Her voice trailed off. “Should I go to the funeral?”
He shook his head. “Vic and Elle are going – to represent the club as a whole. Can’t have Harley’s roaring up to a Sicilian-Catholic funeral. Low key. Antonio’s instructions.”
With a deep sigh, she got up. It was done. It was over. She kept her end of the bargain and so did Carmine. Two fathers gone and a mother who paid a heavy price for her betrayal. Grabbing the lights, she stuck them in his gut. “For outside. I’ll hold the ladder.”
He stretched up, looking as if he added another inch to that six foot six frame of his. “Do I look like I need a ladder, darlin’?”
~~~***~~~
Eva went all out. She said she wanted to start new traditions and Christmas Eve was commencement. She baked all day. Hell, she baked all week. Sugar cookies. Chocolate chip cookies with peppermint pieces. The ones which had a Hershey Kiss plunked in the middle. The ones that contained nothing but butter, walnuts, flour and rolled in powdered sugar. It looked like the cookie case at Sugar Me. Janice Morrell would’ve been proud.
The house smelled delicious while classic Christmas songs played on a portable CD player. She picked up some while shopping two weeks ago while sifting through a $1.99 bargain bin in a consignment shop. She also found a CD full of country compilations – including
Wichita Lineman
. She saved that to play while alone.
She had wine, beer and a quick sausage stew she threw together for dinner. And cookies. Lots and lots of cookies, most she was bringing to the clubhouse tomorrow. The Skulls were holding an ‘Open House’ for the town. According to Ben, this was unprecedented as the club never threw its doors open to strangers. They didn’t expect a lot of town folk who still weren’t comfortable in the presence of local bikers, but you never know. They were trucking in food catered by Clarks (got to keep the business in town!), Janice was, of course, supplying desserts, Ticker Liquor filled the empty shelves behind the bar and Eva offered paper and plastic supplies. And cookies. Lots and lots of cookies.
Tonight, though, would be their own quiet night together. Christmas Eve. With their ginormous blue spruce softly lit, icicle lights hanging from the front and back and, of course, a fire. She and her man. Her ol’ man. She’d have to get used to saying that. He had just pulled in around seven – later than usual and, of course, not very chatty about goings-on she didn’t need to know about. But there was something a bit…..off about him since this morning. He woke up ultra-horny (not that that was ‘off’ pertaining to Ben) and was practically groping her around the kitchen until he left. She wondered if dinner would be the same. She kind of hoped.
Instead of through the back (locked) slider, he came in the front. “Eva? Come out here, darlin’.”
She popped one of the powdered sugar cookies in her mouth and went into the living room. He had that weird, sheepish grin and she prepared to be mauled. “How come you’re so late?”
“Making plans.”
“For what?”
“For……what I want for Christmas.”
She gave him a look. “We agreed not to do gifts. You know, because of the kitchen.”
He shook his head. “This don’t cost nothing. Well….maybe a little.” He picked up her left arm, the charm bracelet dangling from her wrist, kissed her fingers then slid a ring onto her fourth one. She stared in awe at the white-gold band with a half carat square diamond in the center surrounded by tiny little sapphire chips. “Well?”
She caught her breath, then leered up at him. “Isn’t there something you’re supposed to say along with this?”
Damn, he loved her. Any woman would’ve broke down weeping or jumped up and down like a maniac. Not Eva Sinclair. Leave it to her to find a way to put him on the spot. “Yeah.” He could play this. “Wanna get married tonight?”
That really blew her mind from the look she gave him. “Uh….not what I was thinking.”
“But it’s what I’m saying, darlin’.” He took her hand and held it to his face. “Look, you wanna do this proper – dress, flowers, invitations, whatever, then we will. But then I won’t get my Christmas present.”
She closed the gap between them. “And what would that be?”
He bent down to gently kiss her on the lips. “To wake up next to Mrs. Benjamin Thomas Lawson on Christmas morning.” He kissed her again. “Marry me, Eva. Tonight. One of the suits Elle hob-nobs with at town hall’s a minister. Got ‘im on stand-by. He can be here in an hour with the paperwork and two witnesses.”
Eva looked flabbergasted. “Ben….whoa. Wait. I….I just….”
He put a finger over her lips. “Let me finish, darlin’. Just let me say this.” He took a breath. “What’s to wait? I’m gonna be thirty six. You’re gonna be thirty three. We got a home, we earn, I ain’t letting you go and you ain’t pushing me away. So it’s either ink or a ring.”
A curious look came over her. “Why not ink?”
“Well, maybe. Need to figure out what and…..where. One thing’s for sure….”
“It’s going to be simple. Not busy. Not messy or confusing,” she finished for him.
Boy, did she know him. “I want everyone to understand you’re mine. Other than my ink, a ring’s the next best thing. Oh, and yeah – I love you.” That was the extent of his charm, but he was one hundred percent honest about it. “Well?”
She played coy. “Oh. I suppose you need an answer.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, hoisting her up until she was off the ground and was face to face with him. “Here’s a little convincing.” And then, he kissed her, with every ounce of passion this woman stirred in him. He’d wait. He’d wait as long as he had to. Well, maybe not too long, but he wanted her to know he didn’t want to. That there was no point. And he wanted legal claim to her. Regardless of who they were inside this house, outside he was still an outlaw. There would always be some level of danger, but there would always be brothers or assorted others who’d want dibs to where he’d have no recourse. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
He pulled back, staring into those brilliant blue eyes which already told him his answer. But he wanted to hear it. “Well?”
“Can they be here in thirty minutes?”
~~~***~~~
The living room became their favorite spot to commune, and the fireplace and twinkling tree just added to the appeal. Eva laid on the floor in front of the fire, Ben on his side, head propped up in his hand. They entwined left hands, both now wearing matching wedding bands. They’d have enough time for a wedding night once they went upstairs. She was sure she’d need an entire plate of cookies tomorrow to sugar up to replace the energy her husband was going to extract from her tonight.
Her husband.
“Stop thinking how romantic this all was,” Ben joked.
“I’m not. Just thinking how freaked out everyone’s going to be tomorrow. Oh, God….MaryLynn!”