Read Through The Weeds (Nightshade MC Book 2) for Free Online Page B

laugh had been one of the first things that he noticed about her.
    “Are you making fun of me now, Caroline?” Buster teased.
    “No. I'm not. It's just...” she blushed a deeper shade of red. “I'm worse at the small talk and more awkward than you are, trust me. I might have even practiced some topics of conversation.”
    It was his turn to laugh because he could just see her doing that. “Well, don't waste all that hard work. Tell me what you came up with.” Buster continued to stroke her hand.
    “It's stupid stuff. Silly. Like where did you grow up and to tell me about your family. Stuff like that.” She shrugged her shoulders, nibbled at her bottom lip again. He didn't think that she realized what she was doing or just how distracting it was to him.   I grew up in Michigan but not in Detroit,” Buster replied. “How about you?” He didn't like to talk about the past. As far as he was concerned, his life had started for real when he'd ended up in Detroit with a prospect patch on his back.
    “I've lived close enough to the city to drive in, with my parents when I was younger and then with my friends. It was always a thrill, especially when it was with my friends.” Caroline smiled at the memories.
    “No brothers or sisters?”
    “No, I was the miracle child, or at least that was the way that they explained it to me. My mother had a few miscarriages and the doctors all said that there was no hope. They gave up. Started researching adoption and then surprise, here was this fetus that would turn into me.”
    “That's a nice story.” Buster grinned at her. “Bet they spoiled you rotten.”
    “You wouldn't be far off with that bet,” she admitted. “I was honestly a little shit because of it. I grew and became a bigger shit. I remember throwing a fit because they didn't get me a car for my sixteenth birthday. It was the first time I remember seeing disappointment on my parents' face. They canceled the trip they'd planned instead and told me if I wanted a car, I could get a job and get it myself. I did.”
    “What kind of car?”
    “It was a Ford Mustang. Don't look impressed, it was barely roadworthy. Most of the inside was held together with duct tape and the prayers of a seventeen-year-old girl.” She laughed. “I used it for years, until it just wouldn't run anymore and I got a new used car with the money it would have cost me to fix it. I cried when I took it to the scrap yard. So yeah, I'm a dork.”
    “Not a dork at all. A first car is something you never forget.”
    “So what about you?”
    “My first car wasn't a car. It was a Harley. Piece of junk on two wheels, but I put the work in, made it something special.” And he'd never taken it to the junkyard. Instead he'd parked it in his garage once he'd bought the house.
    “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Caroline asked.
    Buster hesitated. In the scheme of getting-to-know-you conversations, questions about siblings were pretty much run of the mill. Still, he never quite new how to answer. Most times he'd simply change the subject, it was too personal, but he found himself answering honestly. “I've got a brother and a sister, both younger. I had an older sister but she passed when we were younger.”
    “I'm so sorry.”
    “Don't be sorry. It was a long time ago. I don't see much of my family now.” Or any of them at all, but that sounded cold and was definitely too deep for a first date. “Do you see your family much?”
    “I used to. My parents moved to Florida last year. My father wasn't doing too well in the cold, so the doctor recommended a more mild climate. I think that Dad just wanted to be able to see more women in swimsuits.”
    “What's your mom think of that?” Buster asked.
    “I think she's more excited about seeing the shirtless men parading around in swim shorts. She sent me pictures from the beach last week, all hot guys with ink. Guess she knows my type.”
    “Why didn't you move with them?”
    “I like it