Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 16

Maxine POV

Tank and the guys helped bring up my stuff, and Tank helped me put it all away. Just as he promised, one corner was set up with a desk, where I placed my laptop and printer, making that corner my office, which was until Tank could get a corner in the shed sorted for me, I asked that it would be lockable, has good lighting, and power, I am interested to seeing what he can figure out for me.

“Put your mat there, so that’s your side of the bed.” Placing the mat there made me all tingly inside, like I’d made a claim, too.

We stood together and surveyed the room with keen eyes.

“That works.” Tank wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and rested his chin on myhead.

“Yeah, I like it. Thanks.” I didn’t explain what I liked about it, and he didn’t push; he grunted acceptance of my approval, and that was enough.

“Come, let’s work on the shed, get that sorted once and for all.” He nudged me towards the doorway, and I let him take me to my new workplace.

The shed had plenty of natural light, which I liked most. It would make painting so much easier; the natural light and the open double doors would give good ventilation.

“This corner was where I thought you would like your office; the large window would be good when on the computer or doing a lot of paperwork. Don’t ya, think?” Tank was right; it was a nice corner. I noticed some power points that could be utilised, as well as plenty of space for shelving and storage cabinets.

“Can you get this secured, like a wall there to give me privacy, and lock the door at night? I trust the guys, but you have parties, the visitors might not be as trusting.” I argued that he should dispute the need to lock this room.

“I hear ya, will speak with the Prez, see if we got the materials on site.” He looked around the shed. They had cleared it all out; only my grandpa’s things were here, and a few of mine. I hadn’t expected they would give me a whole shed all to myself. I noticed they had also brought in a few bikes, which I assumed they wanted me to work on. One looks like the rider could not possibly have survived. Still, I am not about to ask those types of questions; that’s a hard story to tell, and I, for one, am not ready for more emotional stuff; I have enough going on in my head, in some ways, all these changes that were happening had helped keep my mind off all that I had lost. The vast family unit I had gained was how they made me feel, and they have said a few times that I was family.

I liked that feeling. One I hadn’t managed to capture with my blood relatives before, yet here it was, almost immediately, that they insisted I was family.

Sticks was lovely, I had known her before, when she came to the shops, and offered cakes she had cooked. I never really tried to get to know them. I had thought I would finish my apprenticeship, then find somewhere away from this town to get a job and live as far away from my family as possible, but I guess my real family, whom I’d been with all along, didn’t realize it yet.

We spent the next two hours, working through the shed, making it my workshop, setting up the wash bay, the lathe, everything retested after I moved some around, then where we first placed them, I opened up an area for the bikes that need little done, a service of something, a painting area, and the place was starting to look like how I had imagined my workshop would look like if I ever had one in the future.

“Food time.” Sticks arrived with a plate of sandwiches. I hadn’t thought about food, but now that it was here, my stomach growled to let me know it wanted filling.

“Thx Sticks,” Tank thanked her as he took the plate and grabbed my arm, leading me to the box to sit on, so we could eat. What I didn’t expect was that he placed the plate on the floor, sat, pulled me onto his lap, causing me to squeak in surprise, then picked it up again.

“Eat.” He commanded.

“Bossy much,” I grumbled as I obeyed and took a sandwich.

It was meat and pickles, and I couldn’t stop the groan that escaped from my mouth when I tasted the tang of homemade pickles. One of the things I missed about Grandma was her homemade pickles.

“Don’t do that,” Tank growled at me.

‘What? I ain’t doing nothing.” I turned to look at him, and he squirmed, lifting me off his lap and placing me back down. A hardness hit my backside, and I froze and felt the heat rise in my cheeks at the same time.

“Keep still.” He waited for me to start eating again before he tucked into his own sandwich.

I was racking my brain, and couldn’t remember a single time that my ex had that reaction when I sat on his lap. He would never pull me onto his lap like Tank had; he had always kept me at arm’s length, and come to think of it, he was most likely already cheating on me. Before my sister came along, I was just too naive to see it. I was the safe bet, and now I was all churned up inside, seeing how deep the betrayal had really been.

“What’s up?” Tank asked, having felt the change in me.

“Noth’n,” I murmured back and took a large bite of my food so that I couldn’t talk.

“Talk to me.” He whispered in my ear, so close I could smell the coffee he had just sipped.

“Just silly,” I said after forcing the mouthful down my closed-up throat.

“Tell me.” He waited patiently for me to talk, something I hadn’t expected. I always thought of bikies as full of agro and no patience, but I have been learning that my assumptions were all wrong.

“My ex never pulled me on his lap, like ever, and when I had sat on his lap, he never reacted as you do. Did.” I whispered, afraid to say it out loud.

“Then he was an i***t, blind and stupid, to not see the gorgeous woman he had before him.” He kissed my ear and rubbed his itchy beard on my neck, and I liked it.

This kind of affection I was sadly lacking, thinking all this time that something was wrong with me.

I never liked the frilly lace, the lots of makeup, and the almost-not-there, shorter-than-short skirts. Shorts were acceptable, but skirts showing what you got underneath were never my style, more like my sister than me. It made me feel undressed, and I could never understand how anyone could wear something like that in the middle of winter. I dress for comfort, not style, which is why I thought something was wrong with me. I never conformed to the fashion of the day. I like jeans and a blouse because they’re best for riding my bike and keep me warm.

“Thank you.” I finished my sandwich and coffee, and wiggled my way off his lap. He sighed and let me go.

We finished off the area, and I examined the bikes that had been brought in. One was the Prez bike; he wanted me to get a good look at it and come up with ideas for the paint job. I had already pictured what I thought he would like in my head. I needed a few hours on the computer to draw it and colour it before showing it to him.

“This one we call baby, because of its age, and it’s one of the smallest bikes here.” I agree it was old, the knuckle and panheads were babies, I give him that, not the oldest, but indeed hard to get parts for.

Dinner was casual, the guys put on the BBQ, and the girls made salads. We had fun, and it was peaceful, and I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed. My cheeks hurt from all the laughing I had done, I didn’t get to help in the kitchen, and the girls refused to let me clean up. Never in a million years would I have thought this lifestyle was like this. This group was mainly ladies; they do try to have a couple of days, and the kids get to join in. The single guys go to town and have fun for a few hours, not interested in the domestic side today, represent.

“You work hard, honey, no need to work in the kitchen too.” Cricket had said, When I got up to help clean up.

“Don’t be silly, I should help,” I replied, thinking nothing of doing the dishes.

“No, honey, you go rest up.” I got the message loud and clear. Sticks gave me the look that said,

“Do as I am told with this.”