Like always it seems, my apoligies are in order for my lack of updating. My job always seems to get in the way of writing. I hope this makes up for the lack of updates.
It was lunch time a Teller-Morrow, and Juice stared at his phone for the tenth time that day. The messages that flashed across his screen weren't from the person he was hoping for. It had been three days since he cancelled on Bran and she seemed to be holding a grudge. He dropped his phone onto the work bench and half-heartedly started to eat his sandwich.
He felt like an ass for cancelling on her but the club came first. It was the unbreakable, unbending rule that he lived his life by. The club was his family, his home and it wasn't an option to put something first. Besides, it was for Opie, for Donna. To help set something so very wrong, right.
But the shade Bran was throwing his way left a bitter, foul taste in his mouth. It wasn't often he had something that was solely his, someone that he didn't have to share. That he wasn't a second choice, the left over option. He saw the way the sweetbutt's looked around the club house at night, mentally listing off the brother's, ranking them and he knew where he fit in. Most of the time, he didn't care. Too stoned out of his mind, and just looking for a warm body to get off in.
He wasn't as hard as some of his brothers. Nor was he as soft as some of them thought he was. Juice understood the place that woman held in the lifestyle. The difference between an old lady and a sweetbutt. How each were treated very differently but both knew that the man made the decisions. But his mama taught him better, if not with words but examples. He remembered how some of then men in her life treated her, often with the back of their hands.
He would never be that way. Juice knew and had seen some other members from other charters and some in his own club deal with their respected old ladies and the occasional crow eater in the same fashion but that was their shit and he stayed out it. But as complicated as what ever this was or could be between him and Bran was, Juice knew what he wanted.
Something of his own. Someone of his own.
Juice wanted advice, but eyeing up his brother's around him in the shop he saw little to no chance of asking any of them. Tig, would tell him to go fuck a crow eater, Chibs would shake his head, mutter something about finding free pussy. And Jax would call him a pussy.
He tried to talk to Tara about it, the other day but all he got was a look. The look a female gives you when you are suppose to know why their mad at you, but you never, ever know what you did to piss them off.
Maybe, he should just get loaded tonight at Bobby's home coming tonight, and bury himself into something easy, no complications and no explanations. This little whatever it was between him and Bran was making his head hurt.
No wonder everyone fucked crow eaters.
They didn't require explanations, sweet words or fuck, even conversation. There was no question what they wanted, and all he had to do was wear his cut, enjoy his beer and wait for the next easy lay to fall into his lap. No work require.
But when he saw Jax with Tara, how she looked at him like he was the beginning and end to her world, the loyalty, respect and love between them; it made a part of him ache. He wasn't by far the a romantic sap but when he remembered the good days between Opie and Donna, and how they had worked so hard to get back to that before her death, it made him want.
Want for something more then he had been getting, had experienced before. More then a quick fuck with a well used pussy, more then a nameless body beneath him. Someone who wasn't interested in rolling off him for a dick with more rank.
Juice didn't fault Bran, she wasn't from Charming. She didn't understand what Samcro was, and what it meant to him. He didn't know how to explain it to her.
He took another bite of his sandwich, and rubbed his hand over the 'hawk. He really could use a fat blunt right now.
Juice was just beginning to realize how complicated it was going to be to try to make something work. He could tell that Bran wasn't a fuck buddy, if she was she would have been under him the first night he was over at her house. She was different then what he was used to associating himself with, she wasn't a crow eater down on her knees, Bran was girlfriend material, possibly future old lady material.
It was never something he did, bring club business home, and it was something he didn't know how to do. The few women he had dated were Charming locals, so they knew what Samcro was about, what he was about. There wasn't a need for an explanation.
Fuck, maybe he should just drop this stupid idea of trying to find something different and go back to the way shit was before he had saw her tight little body strutting across her lawn from Jax's house. He didn't do complicated well.
Shit, he didn't do most social situations well.
"Juice." Gemma's voice floated through the door that connected the garage to the tiny office that was Gemma's domain. She had been in the office all morning since she had finished her errands in town, and had spent a fair bit watching the goof ball Juice.
The Queen knew all her men, even those she didn't engage on a daily basis, Juice being one of those types. She knew when they were happy, when they were sad, when they were in a pissier of a mood and when they needed to get fucked. Juice was in one of the foulest moods she had seen him in a long time. He was quiet, withdrawn and sulky. The pouting portion hadn't lasted a day before he was snapping at everyone who tried to talk to him.
There was only one other time he had been like this, during that never ending cycle with his ex junkie whore of girlfriend, and then all she had to do was put Chibbs's ear to the ground and the situation was handled. Chibbs had a special way of dealing with the most socially impaired Son.
Chibbs was out with, Jax, Opie and Tig handling club business, and setting Opie right. So it looked like this duty fell to her.
Juice's head dropped a little more. Like his day couldn't get better. What the hell did he do to get on Gemma's radar? He put the half eaten sandwich drop back onto the saran wrapper that was spread out on the bench, before pushing off the work bench. His long legs ate up the distance between the bench and Gemma, standing at the door looking out at him.
"Yes, Gemma?" Juice asked, trying to keep control of the nasty tone that he knew was in his voice. Clay would have his ass in a sling when Gemma pulled her boot from his ass for upsetting her. And the last thing he needed to be was on Clay's shit radar.
"You all right darling?" Gemma thought it was best to start off with the sweet mother voice before bringing out the 'I don't take any shit.' voice. Besides, this was Juice, he responded better to sugar then vinegar.
"It's nothing. Had a bad few days, is all Gemma." Juice told her, as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his greased stained work pants. "I'm fine really."
"Are you fucking that junkie whore again, Juice?" Gemma asked him, disapproval dripping from her voice. Juice wasn't making eye contact with her, so she reached out and slapped him hard on the arm. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."
"No Gemma." Juice's soft brown eyes looked into Gemma's cold blue eyes. He knew who she was talking about, his ex who love crack more then she loved him. He wasn't some sheltered boy, he grew up in Queens for christ sake. And it was like he didn't enjoy a joint or two on more then one occasion, and had even tried something harder when he was younger, but Chibbs forced him to realize he wasn't the only dick that had been in Becky's pussy when they were together he drew the line there.
And he hadn't been back since.
He was willing to share sweetbutts and crow eater's, but when you were his girlfriend, you were his alone. " I haven't been with her in a few years, I know better."
"Well, if it ain't her, honey then what is it?" Gemma asked, him leaning against the door from that connected the office to the shop. Foul didn't look good on Juice, he didn't wear it well. " I know something has crawl up your ass. Don't you lie to me, Juice."
"It's nothing really, Gemma."
Juice couldn't really explain to Gemma what had him so down in the dumps. He really didn't understand it himself. Fucking crow eaters, and knowing that they wished you were one of your other brothers, was one thing but being rejected by a girl who turned down one of the more important members for you had a sting he wasn't used to feeling.
Gemma frowned, she was loosing patience with Juice's beating around the bush. Boy ought to know, she liked to cut to the chase. She cocked a hip, and place a well manicured hand on jean clad hip, and told him how it was going to be. " Listen Juicy, you got two choices, tell me or I'll bring up your attitude problem with Clay when I see him."
Gemma almost felt bad when she saw him pale a little under his golden brown skin. It only bothered her a little bit that he was more afraid of Clay then her.
"It's about a girl." Juice admitted, casting a look around the shop area for anyone. If they guys knew how cut up he was about Bran, he wouldn't hear the end of it. He kept his voice low, hoping no one would hear.
"Honey, it always is about pussy." Gemma shook her head, and waved her hand at him to spit it out.
"I was suppose to have dinner with Bran a few nights, you know like a thank you for doing some stuff around the house kinda thing. Or maybe it was a date, I'm not to sure." Juice started off, not knowing how to explain it to Gemma without sounding like a pussy. " But I had to cancel for club shit."
"Wait, what are you doing letting a crow eater cook you dinner?" Gemma asked, a bit confused at his predicament. Crow eaters knew their place, and if some little pussy bitch was giving him shit for leaving her handing for club business, Gemma was going to lay down the line hard.
Juice shook his head, "No, Gemma, Bran's not a crow eater."
"Then who the fuck is she?"
"Jax's new neighbour. I met her when she was moving in the other day." Juice explained, a bit sheepishly as he tried hard not to blush. " We kinda hit it off."
The puzzle started to make sense to Gemma. The pan of lasagna that Tara dropped off at the beginning of the week that Gemma knew was homemade and Tara hadn't cooked. The hushed talk about the new girl stepping in to defend Opie's reputation, she had heard when she was getting supplies for Bobby's return party. The new girl she met across from Jax's who had semi regular coffee dates with Tara was already causing ripples with her boys, this was something Gemma did not like.
She could understand why such a pretty little thing would peek Juice's interest, she was essentially a step above anything he's put his dick in recently. More wholesome, less tainted and used up like a lot of the crow eaters. She was the kinda girl you made a home with, not the kind you fuck in the cleaning closet and leave with cum dripping down her legs.
"And now she's pouting cause you blew her off for Opie." Gemma summed up the situation in a sentence. Juice was going to have to walk a fine line with this one. Gemma had already heard this morning when she stopped for coffee that little Bran had a temper, and a fast talking mouth, putting that nosey bitch Tina from the bank in her place.
Gemma had her own words with Tina, talking shit about Opie was not in anyone's best interest.
"She just doesn't understand that's all." Juice said rubbing his big hand over his 'hawk. Touching it reminded him of Bran and how he liked it when she touched it. " I want to see her again, but she doesn't know about the club shit."
"You fuck her yet?"
Juice couldn't hide the flinch that flash across his face at Gemma's bluntness. "No, she's not like that."
"And yet she's got you all twisted up inside." Gemma frowned, thinking it was time for her to pay the neighbour girl a visit. She smoothed a stray hair from her face, before resting her hand on her hip." Sweetie, wait her out. She's probably just a little pissy right now. I'm sure she'll call soon."
"You think?" Juice gave her a small smile. He watched her face as she raised an eyebrow and shrugged at his question.
"Sweetie, "Gemma leaned towards Juice. " I'm sure you can and will find something a little less complicated. Why look for strings when you can get pussy for free?"
Gemma really didn't see Juice as old man material. He was too goofy, didn't have a hard enough hand to keep an old lady in line. Especially the one he was sniffing around. She was too much like Tara and not nearly meek enough for Gemma's liking. She didn't need another bitch challenging things around here. "I don't have to tell you that if your planning on making her more then just a fuck, you better be running her name."
Juice tried not to look so insulted when Gemma pointed out that he should run a back round check on Bran, like he as the intelligence officer wasn't aware of that duty already. He was planning on acquiring her details the night before after dinner when she was busy cleaning up. He knew his obligation to the club to protect them came first. Even before his dick. "I know Gemma."
Gemma stared at the retreating figure of Juice as he made his way towards the back of the shop to finish his lunch. She had a shit load to do for Bobby's return party that night, and she was going to have to shuffle around some things to make a quick stop at little neighbour girls place.
Gemma liked to know who was sniffing about one of her men, and at first she had only been mildly concerned about the pretty little neighbour across from her son, knowing that a small word in Jax's ear would have him squashing any type of relationship that Tara had with the woman. Besides, she had her hands full worrying about Tara and Jax.
Her little conversation with Juice had left her troubled. And a troubled Gemma Teller-Morrow was nobody's friend.