“You have a ton of spare toothbrushes in your bathroom,” I reminded him and he lifted his eyebrows.
“Nosy. I’ll have to remember that,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows and a snort of unexpected laughter spilled out of me. “I should probably get a box of condoms too,” he added, throwing me a challenging glance but I refused to rise to the bait, pressing my lips together. He winked, pushing the buggy toward the women’s clothing section with an ease that hinted at experience. “But your stuff first,” he decided with a nod. “Underwear, for sure.” I nodded, my expression telling him I knew exactly what he was up to, as I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my worn-out jeans and followed him.
Once we got to the women’s area, he didn’t comment as I quickly threw a pack of cotton undies in the buggy, my cheeks on fire. I quickly thumbed through the bras to find my size and shoved the first one I found in the cart. He couldn’t resist that time though. “I’ll be glad to wait if you want to try it on,” he said helpfully and I shook my head, glaring, but it didn’t put a dent in his unrepentant grin.
I made my way to the lingerie area and found a t-shirt and shorts set on clearance, the chocolate donuts dancing across it fitting.
“Mmm, I’m getting hungry,” Creed mumbled, leaning on the handlebars of the buggy as he watched me toss the night set in. “You could always get that,” he added, nodding toward a sheer black nightie on one of the racks. “I don’t judge.”
“I don’t think so,” I shot back, my cheeks burning as I grabbed the front of the cart and steered us toward less dangerous territory.
Two pairs of jeans and a few t-shirts later I was done, but when I turned to glance down at what I’d thrown in the buggy I noticed it was almost overflowing. “What?” I said in disbelief, sorting through the pile of clothes that were all in my size. Creed shrugged innocently as I stared at him, waiting for an explanation.
“You need clothes,” he answered.
“Not this many,” I retorted, adding it all up in my head. “This is too much.”
“I can afford it,” he replied and I barely caught the next words he mumbled under his breath. “Better too many than not enough.”
I didn’t want to touch that comment or come off as an ungrateful brat, so I forced a smile as I said, “Thank you. It’s very generous of you.”
He gave me a one shouldered shrug, pushing the buggy forward instead of answering, and I followed until he brought us to the makeup aisle. He rubbed his neck, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he said, “If you need girl junk, you should get that too.” He jerked his head toward an aisle advertising first aid kits as he added, “I’m going to go grab an Ace bandage for your ribs. You can meet me over there.” I nodded and he wheeled the buggy away, leaving me standing in the cosmetics section. I grabbed a skin corrector with sunscreen, shampoo and conditioner, and then made a stop at the feminine products. I found Creed comparing wraps as I dumped my stuff on top of the clothes.
“Either one will be good enough,” I told him. “I’m kind of surprised you don’t already have an entire first aid kit back at the club.”
Creed waved his hand dismissively. “You don’t want any of that crap touching your skin.” He put both items in the cart and then glanced at me. “You ready to go? Got everything?”
I nodded, not wanting to take advantage of his generosity. He eyed me but finally headed toward the checkout. I helped him put the stuff on the conveyer belt, crossing my arms over my stomach as we waited until the cashier finished with the person in front of us. I noticed a few sideways glances and when I saw my reflection in the drink case, I realized why. They were looking at the bruises and the angry glances I saw them directing toward Creed made me realize they thought he’d put them there. I shifted a little closer to him, unaccountably angry on his behalf at their judgement. He smiled at me and asked, “You want candy?”
He either hadn’t noticed the looks or it didn’t bother him, but when I nodded his face lit up. “I wasn’t sure what you liked yesterday so tell me your favorites,” he demanded, his hand hovering over the rack of candy. I pointed out my two favorites and then tried to stop him when he grabbed five of each.
“I don’t need that many,” I protested, trying to put some of them back.
“You don’t need candy at all,” he pointed out. “It’s a treat and you seem like you haven’t had many of those.” I couldn’t deny his words and finally let him have his way, shaking my head when he threw two more on the pile. The cashier ringing us up had a frown on her face but she didn’t say a word as she eyed the kutte Creed wore. She knew who he was and even her disapproval wasn’t enough to make her speak up. Some of my happiness drained away at her obvious judgement and I chewed on my lip as we left the store.
“What’s wrong?” Creed asked, his thumb rubbing my lip. “You’re going to draw blood there in a minute.”
“They think you did this to me,” I burst out, my hand going to my face as if I could hide the bruises from other people’s judgement. “They think…” I trailed off, not sure I wanted to finish my sentence.
“They see the jacket and they assume I’m some asshole who hits his woman,” he finished for me and I swallowed hard, nodding. “But, you see, it don’t matter.”
My gaze shot to his as I echoed, “It doesn’t matter?”
“No, because you and me both know the truth,” he replied. “I didn’t do that to you and I never would.” He stared at me for a second, ducking his head when my gaze dropped. “You do know that, right? I will never hit you and I will bury any man who does.”
I nodded, meeting his eyes again. “I know that,” I whispered, the fierce promise in his voice melting my insides.
“Okay, good,” he said roughly, pushing the buggy forward again as we crossed the parking lot. “Didn’t want any question about that.”
“Nope,” I shook my head, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear as I followed behind him. “No questions about that,” I murmured, jerking my eyes up from his butt when he turned as we came to the truck.
“I’d like to look at your ribs before we go to Ronnie’s,” he said, gesturing to my stomach. “Let me get this stuff loaded first.”
I nodded, knowing it was pointless to offer my help as he made quick work of throwing everything in the small cab space. He pulled out the two wraps he’d insisted on buying and then stood there, eyeing me awkwardly.
“Do you want to do it in the truck?” I asked, pointing to the now crowded bench seat. His tongue slid over his bottom lip and he gave a quick shake of his head.
“I don’t think a confined space would be a great idea,” he answered. He motioned toward the hem of my shirt. “Just lift your shirt and I’ll wrap it real fast.”
He angled his body so the parking lot was blocked from sight as I stood in the door of the truck. I reached for the bottom of my shirt, slowly lifting it and thought I heard him groan. My eyes darted to his, but he just gave me a tight-lipped smile. I stopped lifting the shirt when I reached my boobs and felt more than heard him exhale.
He unraveled the edge of the wrap and reached around me, his fingertips calloused as they brushed against my skin. He leaned forward as he wrapped the bandage snugly around my ribcage, his head close to mine as I stared straight ahead, feeling each of his soft breaths as he carefully wove it around me.
My heart thrummed faster than normal as I tried to control my breathing, aware of how close his hands were to my chest as his fingers occasionally lingered on my skin. I felt a tug and then his softly whispered, “Done,” and the cocoon that had formed as he worked disappeared.
I tilted my head away from his as I murmured, “Thanks,” and he nodded, his fingertip tugging on the hem of my shirt and causing it to fall and cover the bandage.
“Let’s get you to Ronnie’s,” he answered, stepping back as he crumpled the empty package in his hand and tossed it into a nearby trash can. I pulled myself into the truck and watched as he came around the front. His loose hipped strid
e and straight jaw got him a few admiring glances and I ignored the flare of jealousy that coursed through me.
He hopped into the truck, his hand going to the gearshift as he gave me a smile that looked a little forced. “Ready?”
I nodded, automatically clicking my seatbelt into place and he nodded at it. “That saved your life,” he mentioned and it took me a second to realize he meant the seatbelt.
“It did,” I responded. “My mom hated wearing it. She said it choked her.”
“Well, it cost her, her life,” he replied with a brutal honesty and my head bobbed as I glanced out the window, feeling the sharp sting of tears. I’d told her a million times to put it on, but she never listened.
I couldn’t help but think she’d be alive if it wasn’t for me. “Don’t go there,” he said sharply, his hand covering mine. “Don’t carry that burden. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“How did you,” I paused, clearing my throat. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“I recognize the look,” he answered cryptically, pulling his hand away as he backed out of the parking spot.
I didn’t push and he didn’t elaborate as he accelerated onto the highway and back to the town I now called home.
***
“Well, looky, looky what the cat done dragged in,” a husky voice drawled, her expertly applied makeup and shiny straight hair making me feel frumpy. “Momma said you were bringing someone by but I thought she’d just got into the wine a little early.”
Creed shuffled forward, leaning down to buss her on the cheek. “I’m going to tell Mary you said that,” he answered casually, a slow grin creasing his face as he stared at her. “I swear, Ronnie, you look different every time I see you.”
“I think what you meant to say is I’m looking prettier every time you see me,” she corrected, ignoring him to focus on me. “I see why you brought her in,” she commented and I tugged on the end of my hair self-consciously. “She needs a little gussing up.”
“Just don’t go overboard,” Creed warned, giving me a small smile. “She’s just fine like she is,” he finished, missing the surprised glance Ronnie cast toward him. She gave me a longer look, crooking her finger for me to follow her to one of the chairs.
“Momma said a trim and some highlights,” she said, glancing at me for confirmation and I nodded yes. She smiled. “Just wanted to make sure, Lord knows the woman would have my hide if I got it wrong.”
Creed chuckled and I relaxed slightly. Ronnie didn’t resemble her short, round mother in the slightest, but their eyes held a similar kindness. She pointed at Creed as he propped himself against the counter, watching us. “You need to go,” she informed him and he grunted. “I’m serious. I’ve got clients and your presence is disruptive.”
A glance at the mirror and I could see what she was talking about. The other hairdressers were all busy sending Creed sidelong glances and ignoring the people they were working on. I even noticed some of the clients sending him surreptitious glances.
“Shoo,” she said again, making a little motion with her hands. “I’ll take good care of her,” she continued and Creed shifted uncomfortably. He glanced around before he pushed away from the counter.
He met my eyes as he said, “I’ll be in the truck.”
“You might as well go back to the club if you’ve got something to do. This will take a while,” Ronnie answered for me. “Crew is supposed to come by after school and get a haircut. I’ll send her over with him.”
I opened my mouth to object at being shuffled around without being asked, when I noticed Creed’s mouth tighten. Ronnie arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You have a problem with Crew giving her a ride?”
Something in the way she said, “ride,” made me think she meant it more than one way and Creed’s sharp glance told me he heard it too. “He can drive her home,” he replied, emphasizing home. “But since Jailbait’s never met him she might not be comfortable with that.”
Ronnie made a humming sound and spoke so low I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “How the mighty have fallen.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” she answered, patting the top of my head, and I winced. “Won’t you, Jailbait?” The way she stressed my unwanted nickname left no doubt of her amusement.
Creed crossed his arms, his teeth tugging on his lower lip in such a way that one of the hairdressers eyeing him made an unwise swipe with a razor. A curse followed and the guy in her chair said, “Damnit, Lorraine.”
Ronnie grimaced as she cast a sharp glance at Lorraine and Creed smiled. He glanced at me as he said, “If you don’t feel comfortable riding with Crew, I can come back or send Clutch.” He made a point to glance at Ronnie as he added, “You seemed comfortable with Clutch this morning.” Ronnie’s lips compressed so tightly they turned white and Creed nodded to me before strolling out the door, every eye on him as he left.
One of the girls fanned herself and Ronnie snapped, “Get back to work.” She looked angry and I was almost afraid of what my hair was going to look like when she was done. “Oh, relax,” she muttered, reaching for a comb. The motion drew her sleeve up, revealing mottled bruises on her wrist. She tugged her sleeve down hastily and I pretended like I hadn’t noticed. “I might be pissed with Creed but I won’t take it out on you.”
I nodded, keeping my mouth shut as she carefully combed through my hair. After a minute, some of the tension eased out of her and she smiled. “He’s too damn good looking for his own good. They fight over who gets to cut his hair when he comes in.”
I grinned at that information and said, “He’s got good hair.”
Ronnie snorted, “And a helluva hot body.” She pointed the comb at me in the mirror. “And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“I’m not blind,” I answered, not admitting anything more.
“Add in the fact that he’s a Rebel and the girls around here would do just about anything to get his attention,” she continued and gestured to my face. “He take care of whoever did that to your face?”
My fingers went to the bruises automatically. I almost shook my head before remembering I needed to be still. “No, he helped me after,” I mumbled reluctantly, not wanting to get into what happened. She seemed to understand because she didn’t say anything more. She worked quietly for a while, not asking what I wanted as she snipped away and I was grateful for the silence.
“He doesn’t bring them home,” she said abruptly, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “In case you were wondering if he’s done this before.”
I had wondered and her words eased a worry I hadn’t acknowledged. After a minute, I licked my lips and asked, “You and Clutch?”
Her hand slipped and she muttered a curse.
“It’s none of my business,” I added hurriedly, feeling like I’d stepped into something.
“No,” she shook her head ruefully. “It’s not you. I understand why you might ask, but I’m not with Clutch.”
“Oh, I didn’t know if Kara was his or what,” I replied, wincing as I heard how my words sounded. “Not that it matters who,” I broke off, not wanting to make it worse and she actually smiled.
“She’s not his. I’ve never been with Clutch. Not for his lack of trying,” she replied, winking. I was kind of surprised by her admission. Clutch might not look like Creed but he was handsome in his own right. He had a great body and a country boy vibe that was hard not to look twice at. “I’m with Kara’s daddy and have been for years. His name is Rob.”
“I don’t think I met him this morning,” I mentioned, assuming he would have been at the clubhouse. The skin around her eyes tightened, leaving me to think I’d said the wrong thing again.
“He’s not club,” she said shortly, her closed expression telling me the conversation was finished. She worked in silence after that, carefully applying subtle highlights to my dirty blonde hair until it looked more sun kissed than dirty.
The bell over the door chimed and Ronnie glanced up, a genuine
smile lighting her face for the first time since we spoke. “Crew, come sit down.” There were a couple of upset glances thrown our way, which Ronnie ignored as a young guy sauntered toward us. He was about my age, I guessed, and even if Ronnie hadn’t said his name there was no doubt he was Creed’s brother. They shared the same dark good looks and impenetrable confidence that only came with knowing you belonged.
“What, the world-famous Ronnie’s going to cut my hair today?” There was a teasing note in his slow drawl and I couldn’t help but smile.
“You keep talking and I’ll buzz cut it,” she warned, shaking the comb at him.
He clutched his chest like her words pained him. “I don’t believe you, Ronnie. There would be so many upset girls pounding on your door wondering why.”
“If they knew you, they’d know why,” she sassed back as Crew’s gaze focused on me.
“And who are you? I thought I knew every beautiful woman in this town,” he said, the slightly self-deprecating look in his eyes keeping his flirtation from being over the top.
I snorted and met Ronnie’s eyes in the mirror. “I can see your problem when they show up.”
She nodded, her eyes lit up as she told Crew, “Well, this is,” she glanced down at me and then shrugged, “Jailbait, and you’re supposed to give her a ride home.”
“Home?” He questioned, dragging his eyes from my face to look back up at Ronnie, “And Jailbait?”
I giggled at his confusion as Ronnie lowered the chair. I exchanged seats with Crew and as Ronnie whipped a cape around him, I told him, “Creed gave me the nickname. I’m Sloane.” I reached out to shake his hand and his hand almost engulfed mine as he shook it firmly. “And home is the clubhouse. I’m staying there a while.”
Crew eyed me, clearly considering his next question as he glanced toward Ronnie, who ignored his imploring gaze.
“Staying?” He finally asked and I nodded as Ronnie fought a smile. “Like working staying?” Crew tried again, not wanting to come out and ask if I was one of the girls who hung around for sex but also wanting to know if I was one of those girls.
Jailbait (Southern Rebels MC Book 1) Page 5
