Chapter 3 Meeting my Betrothed
Taryn’s POV
At six fifty-eight, I walked into dinner wearing the exact same clothes Dad had told me to change out of.
The powdered sugar was gone. Mostly.
Cal noticed first. He looked down at my black tank, then at Dad, then picked up his beer.
Dad leaned toward me. “You had two hours.”
“I used them.”
“For what?”
“Not changing.”
Cal covered his mouth with the bottle.
Dad pointed toward the table. “Sit down.”
Dinner was at one of the bigger places set up near the main drag, half restaurant and half giant outdoor bar, with picnic tables under a permanent roof and enough motorcycles parked outside to make walking through the lot a pain in the ass. Music was playing somewhere behind us, people were yelling over each other, and every few minutes an engine drowned out the entire conversation.
I would have preferred all of them at once.
Kellan Stroud was already sitting at the table.
I had seen him around camp since yesterday, but I had never been this close to him.
He stood when we reached the table.
He was taller than Dad, maybe six-two, with dark blond hair cut short on the sides and longer on top. His beard was trimmed close, his Iron Mesa cut looked newer than most of the ones around Sturgis, and there was nothing loud about him. No giant rings. No twenty chains hanging off his jeans. No tattoos crawling up his throat.
Thirty.
Ten years older than me.
“Taryn.”
He said my name like we had already met.
“Kellan.”
Dad glanced at me.
I smiled at him. “What? He knows my name. I know his. We’re killing it.”
One of the men beside Kellan laughed before covering it with a cough.
Kellan came around the table and put his hand against my lower back.
“Sit here.”
I moved away from his hand before he could steer me anywhere. “I can find a chair.”
His hand dropped.
“Of course.”
Dad sat across from us with Cal beside him. Kellan’s two men took the other end of the table, which left me sitting beside the man I had met approximately eleven seconds ago and was supposedly marrying when we got home.
A server came over before I could decide whether getting up and leaving would be worth having Dad follow me through half of Sturgis.
“What can I get everybody to drink?”
“I’ll have bourbon,” Kellan said. He nodded toward me. “She’ll have a Coke. No ice. Lime.”
I turned my head.
The server looked at me. “Coke, no ice, lime?”
“No. I’ll have lemonade.”
The server nodded and kept going around the table.
Kellan rested one arm along the back of his chair. “Your dad said you hate ice in soda.”
“I do.”
“And you like Coke.”
“I do.”
“Then what’s wrong with Coke?”
“You ordered it.”
Cal looked down at the menu.
Dad said, “Taryn.”
“What?”
“We’re having dinner.”
“I noticed.”
Kellan picked up his water glass. “Lemonade works.”
“I’m glad we survived our first major disagreement.”
One of his men laughed again.
Kellan looked down the table. “Something funny, Wade?”
“Nope.”
“Then eat your bread.”
Wade reached for the basket.
I looked at Kellan. “Do they get married off too, or just daughters?”
Dad closed his menu. “Enough.”
“I’m asking.”
Kellan looked toward Wade. “Neither of them are worth enough.”
Wade pointed a piece of bread at him. “Finally. Honesty.”
The other man snorted.
I opened my menu.
Kellan leaned closer. “Your father warned me you’d come in ready to fight.”
I kept looking at the food. “My father talks too much.”
“He talks about you.”
“That’s becoming obvious.”
“He said you were stubborn.”
“He says that when I disagree with him.”
“He said you’ve been that way since you could talk.”
I looked over. “What else did he tell you?”
“A lot.”
“How much is a lot?”
“Taryn,” Dad said.
I ignored him. “Favorite color? Medical history? Childhood pets? Did you get a folder?”
“You had a beagle named Molly until you were twelve.”
I stopped looking at the menu.
Dad rubbed his forehead.
Kellan kept going. “You broke your wrist when you were nine climbing onto a shed after your father told you not to. You hate mushrooms. You don’t drink coffee. You wanted a horse when you were fourteen and made Rook’s life miserable for six months because he wouldn’t buy you one.”
I looked at Dad. “Seriously?”
He set his menu down. “He asked about you.”
“So you gave him my biography?”
“I answered questions.”
“How thoughtful.”
Kellan picked up the bread basket and held it toward me. “You skipped lunch.”
I looked at him.
He nodded toward the basket. “Your dad said you had half a funnel cake.”
I turned toward Dad. “You told him what I ate today?”
Dad looked at Kellan. “I mentioned it earlier.”
“Why?”
“It came up.”
“How the hell does my funnel cake come up in treaty negotiations?”
Kellan set the basket down between us. “It wasn’t treaty negotiations.”
“Oh. Good. For a second I thought the funnel cake was legally binding too.”
“Taryn.”
I looked at Dad. “Stop saying my name like I’m the problem at this table.”
The server brought our drinks.
I thanked her, picked up my lemonade, and took a drink.
Kellan’s bourbon landed in front of him.
He waited until the server walked away. “I wanted to know about the woman I’m marrying.”
“You could have asked me.”
“You didn’t know about the arrangement.”
“Exactly.”
“That was Rook’s decision.”
I looked at Dad. “Hear that? We agree on something.”
Dad kept his eyes on the table.
Kellan picked up his bourbon. “I would’ve handled that part differently.”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I would’ve told you sooner.”
“And still married me whether I wanted to or not?”
He took a drink. “The agreement was always going to happen.”
“There it is.”
“I’m not going to lie to you because you’re pissed.”
“Good. That saves time.”
The server came back for our food orders.
I ordered first before Kellan could pick that too.
Burger. Fries. No mushrooms.
Kellan glanced at me when I said it.
I almost changed the order just because he knew I hated them, but then I would be the idiot eating mushrooms to prove a point.
When the server left, Kellan put his arm along the back of my chair again. His fingers were close enough to my shoulder that they touched my jacket when I shifted.
I moved my chair forward.
He looked at the space between us, then lowered his arm.
Kellan turned his glass between his fingers. “You’ve never been to Phoenix?”
“No.”
“You’ll like it.”
“I hate heat.”
“You live in Northern California.”
“Exactly.”
“The house is outside the city.”
I looked at him. “What house?”
“Mine.”
“You have one. Congratulations.”
“Ours after the wedding.”
I put my lemonade down.
Dad reached for his beer.
Cal leaned back in his chair.
I looked between them. “You’ve discussed where I’m living.”
Kellan answered. “You’ll live with me.”
“Obviously that’s what you think.”
“That’s how marriage normally works.”
“Nothing about this is normal.”
“You’ll have your own space.”
“My own space in your house.”
“Our house.”
“You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Changing a word and pretending that changes who decided it.”
Kellan took another drink.
Dad finally spoke. “You were always going to move after the wedding.”
I looked across the table. “According to who?”
“The agreement is with Iron Mesa.”
“So?”
“So you can’t marry their president and keep living in California.”
“Watch me.”
Kellan’s mouth moved.
I pointed at him. “Don’t smile.”
“I didn’t.”
“You almost did.”
“I’m starting to understand what your father meant.”
“I’m sure the two of you have a whole fucking book club about me.”
Dad leaned toward the table. “Can we get through one meal without turning everything into an argument?”
“I don’t know. Can everybody get through one meal without planning the rest of my life?”
Kellan set his bourbon down. “You want to know what I expect?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“See, that right there is the problem.”
He kept going.
“I don’t expect you to sit in a house all day. I don’t expect you to become somebody you’re not. But when you’re my wife, there will be things that change.”
I crossed my arms. “Here we go.”
“You won’t disappear at rallies without somebody knowing where you are.”
“I didn’t disappear today.”
“Your father had two men looking for you.”
“They were following me.”
“They were keeping an eye on you.”
“I didn’t ask them to.”
“You won’t have to.”
I stared at him.
“If you travel, I’ll know where you’re going. If you’re at a club event, you’ll be there with Iron Mesa. You won’t be running around with Lost Coast every time your father goes somewhere.”
I looked at Dad. “You’re hearing this, right?”
Dad put his beer down. “Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“He just told me I won’t be traveling with you anymore.”
Dad looked at Kellan. “She’ll still see the club.”
“Of course,” Kellan said. “I’m not keeping her from her family.”
“How generous.”
“But she’ll be my wife. Her place will be with my club.”
“My place.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Dad again. “Anything?”
He rubbed his thumb along the label on his beer. “That’s not unusual.”
I laughed. “Two hours ago you told me this wasn’t selling me. Now he’s telling me which club I belong to after the wedding and you’re sitting there telling me it’s normal.”
“I said it isn’t unusual.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Kellan reached over and put his hand on my knee.
I looked down at it, then at him.
“Move your hand.”
He left it there.
“Kellan.”
Dad finally said his name.
Kellan removed his hand.
“There. He does still talk.”
Dad looked at me. “Knock it off.”
“No.”
The food arrived before he could answer.
For the next few minutes, Wade and the other Iron Mesa guy talked about some custom build they had seen earlier. Cal joined in. Dad asked something about a parts vendor.
I took a bite of my burger.
Kellan looked over. “Your father said you were thinking about going back to school.”
I stopped chewing and swallowed. “Was I?”
“He said you’ve talked about it.”
“That was private.”
Dad sighed. “You’ve talked about it in front of half the club.”
“Not with him.”
Kellan wiped his fingers on a napkin. “If you want to take classes, Phoenix has plenty of options.”
“I don’t need permission.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You’re talking like you get to approve the location.”
“You’ll live in Arizona.”
“According to you.”
“According to the agreement.”
“There’s that fucking agreement again.”
Dad lowered his voice. “Taryn.”
I looked at Kellan. “What happens if I wake up one morning after we’re married and decide I want to go back to California for a month?”
“You tell me.”
“I tell you.”
“Yes.”
“Not ask?”
“If you’re gone for a month, we’d discuss it.”
“That’s asking.”
“That’s marriage.”
“No. That’s you deciding what marriage means for both of us before I’ve agreed to one.”
Kellan rested his forearms on the table. “I’m not going to chase my wife across the country because she gets pissed off and leaves every time we disagree.”
“Then maybe don’t marry somebody who doesn’t want to marry you.”
Nobody said anything.
Kellan picked up his bourbon.
“I told Rook you’d be difficult.”
I set my burger down. “And apparently that didn’t stop you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Dad looked between us.
Kellan took a drink. “Because I wanted the alliance.”
“At least that’s honest.”
“And because I wanted you.”
I laughed. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”
“You know what my father told you.”
“I know you’ve spent the last hour trying to piss off every man at this table because you don’t like being told what to do.”
“Maybe I’m naturally charming.”
Wade snorted into his beer.
Kellan kept looking at me. “I know you’re spoiled.”
Dad muttered, “Jesus Christ.”
I leaned closer to Kellan. “Keep going. This is definitely helping.”
“You’ve had a father and an entire club cleaning up behind you your whole life.”
“You learned all that over appetizers?”
“I learned it watching you.”
“You’ve watched me for less than two days.”
“And I’ve watched you walk away from your father whenever he tells you no. I watched you spend money on a broken metal scorpion after he told you not to buy a dead rabbit.”
I turned toward Dad.
He held up both hands. “I didn’t tell him about the scorpion.”
“I saw you carrying it,” Kellan said. “You do whatever you want because nobody has ever made you do otherwise.”
I pushed my chair back.
Dad said, “Sit down.”
“No.”
“Taryn.”
“No. I sat. I met him. I ate half a burger. I’ve learned that my future husband knows what I ate for breakfast, where I broke a bone when I was nine, where I’m apparently living, which club I’m apparently allowed to travel with, and that I need to tell him before I leave his house for too long. I think I’ve done enough bonding for one night.”
Kellan stood.
I looked at him. “Why are you standing?”
“Because you are.”
“Sit back down.”
His eyebrows went up.
I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair.
Kellan reached for my arm.
I stepped away.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“What about it?”
“We’ll talk again.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“You’re going to have to talk to me eventually.”
“I really don’t.”
“You’re marrying me.”
I looked at Dad.
He was still sitting there.
I looked back at Kellan. “Good night.”
Then I walked away.
Dad called my name once.
I kept going.
He didn’t follow.
I cut between rows of bikes, through the edge of the vendor area, and kept moving until Iron Mesa’s cuts disappeared behind me. Music came from somewhere ahead. Somebody was shouting about tequila. A woman was laughing so hard she had one hand braced against a parked Harley.
I made it past the booth where I had bought the scorpion before somebody called my name.
“Taryn.”
I turned.
Bobby was sitting on the edge of a picnic table behind the Sons of Doom vendor setup with a laptop open beside him and a paper tray of fries in his hand.
I looked at the laptop. “Very biker.”
He looked down at it. “I was hacking the Pentagon.”
“On public Wi-Fi?”
“I like a challenge.”
I walked over.
He moved the laptop and nodded toward the empty spot beside him. “You find another defective animal?”
“Not yet.”
“Night’s young.”
I sat.
He held the fries toward me.
I took one.
“You always feed strange women behind vendor booths?”
“Only the ones who buy seven-legged scorpions.”
“That sounds selective.”
“I have standards.”
I took another fry.
Bobby looked at my shirt. “You still have funnel cake on you.”
I looked down. “Where?”
He pointed near my side.
“Son of a bitch.”
“I thought it added character.”
I looked at him.
He smiled.
“That was my line.”
“I improved it.”
“You stole it.”
“Can you prove that?”
“You’re a criminal.”
“Allegedly.”
“You have a one-percent patch on your chest.”
He looked down at it. “That could mean anything.”
“Sure.”
“It could be a math club.”
“You look terrible at math.”
He put a hand over his chest. “Now you’re just being rude.”
“You started it.”
“You sat down.”
“You offered fries.”
“And look what it cost me.”
I took another one.
He closed his laptop after a minute and put it beside him. Somebody from Sons of Doom shouted something at him from across the lot. Bobby lifted one finger without looking.
I glanced over. “Popular?”
“Deeply loved.”
“What did he want?”
“Probably for me to do something.”
“And you’re ignoring him?”
“I’m busy.”
“With fries?”
He looked at me. “Company.”
I looked away. “Smooth.”
“That wasn’t smooth.”
“It was a little smooth.”
“I can do worse.”
“I believe you.”
He bumped his shoulder against mine.
I took another fry.
He pulled the empty tray apart when I was done and dropped it into the trash beside the table.
“You look like you want to hit somebody.”
“That obvious?”
“Little bit.”
“I’m fine.”
“Didn’t say you weren’t.”
“That sounded like you were about to.”
“I’ve known you for six hours. I’m not stupid enough to tell you how you are.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded like something.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Okay.”
He left it alone.
I picked at a loose thread on my jeans. “How long are you guys here?”
“Through Sunday.”
“We leave Sunday too.”
“Then you’ve got two more days to buy the jackalope.”
“My dad will murder me.”
“You’re twenty.”
I looked at him.
He paused. “What?”
“That’s apparently everybody’s favorite sentence today.”
“Did I step in something?”
“Several things.”
“Want me to back up?”
“No.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
A group of women walked past us carrying drinks in plastic cups. One of them looked at Bobby, then at me, then kept walking.
I leaned closer. “You just lost an opportunity.”
“I’m devastated.”
“She was cute.”
“She had both hands full.”
“That’s your line?”
“I’m practical.”
I laughed.
Bobby looked at me. “There it is.”
“What?”
“That laugh.”
“What about it?”
“You actually meant that one.”
“You’ve heard me laugh twice.”
“Three times.”
“That’s creepy.”
“I count things.”
“Math club again?”
“There it is.”
I nudged his knee with mine.
He caught my ankle between his boots for half a second before letting it go.
I looked down, then back at him.
“Was that smooth?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Terrible, actually.”
“I can live with that.”
Somebody called Bobby’s name again.
This time he yelled, “I heard you.”
A voice from somewhere behind the booth answered, “Then get your ass over here.”
“In a minute.”
“You’re going to get in trouble,” I said.
“I’ll survive.”
“Everybody says that right before they don’t.”
He looked over. “That sounded dark.”
“Long dinner.”
“With your dad?”
“And some other people.”
He nodded and picked up his laptop. “You heading back?”
“Eventually.”
“You want me to walk you?”
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“Because I was going that way.”
“You don’t even know where I’m staying.”
“I know where Lost Coast is camped.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
“You’re wearing their support shirt in half the pictures people have posted today.”
I looked down at myself. “I am not.”
“You were earlier.”
“Were you looking me up?”
“No.”
“Bobby.”
He grinned.
“You looked me up.”
“I looked up Lost Coast.”
“And accidentally found me?”
“Basically.”
“That is such bullshit.”
“I’m a hacker. I’m nosy. You knew what you were getting into.”
“I bought a scorpion next to you.”
“Still counts.”
I stood from the table.
He stood too.
I looked toward the campground. “Fine. You can walk me partway.”
“Generous.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
We headed through the vendor row together.
Bobby shoved one hand into his pocket while he carried the laptop under his other arm. He stayed beside me while we walked.
After a minute, he glanced over.
“So.”
“So.”
“You going to tell me who you want to hit?”
“No.”
“Your dad?”
“Maybe.”
“Cal?”
“Less than Dad.”
“Seven-legged scorpion vendor?”
“He’s innocent.”
Bobby nodded. “Good man.”
I looked ahead.
He waited another few seconds.
“Boyfriend giving you trouble?”
I stopped walking.
Bobby stopped beside me.
“Fiancé.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “You have a fiancé?”
“Apparently.”
“What the hell does apparently mean?”
I looked at him.
“I met him tonight.”
