Smoke (Archer's Creek Book 5)

by Gemma Weir

  From: Killerdoctriplet@rightnet.com

  To: Nerdworldtriplet@rightnet.com

  Subject: Re: Have you spoken to her yet????

  Hey, Baby Sis,

  I SPOKE TO HER!!

  I think I might be in love! Buy a hat because I’m fairly sure by the end of the year we’ll be living together, planning our wedding, and buying a cat.

  Her name is Marissa, she’s 25 and a school teacher, and we had our first date last night. It went sooooo well and then it got even better.

  I called Tiff and pulled my full-blown doctor mojo and she’s promised to put her feet up and let Mom and Dad help her with Tilly so she can rest. She wasn’t happy about it, but I told her that both of us were feeling her exhaustion and that if she didn’t start taking care of herself, we would call in Graham and Brian too.

  How’s Houston? How’s the job? How are you?

  Do you think you’ll have time to come visit me soon? I miss you.

  Speak soon.

  Love you.

  Anna xo

  P.S. Greg was a dick!!! I’m so pleased you dumped his douchebag ass.

  Smiling at my sister’s words I decide to call her instead of replying to her email. She might not answer but I miss her too. I miss both my sisters. She picks up on the third ring.

  “Riley, you okay?” She immediately asks.

  “Not even a hello, Big Sis?”

  I hear her chuckle. “It been a while since we spoke on the phone that’s all. I thought something might be wrong.”

  “The reason we haven’t talked on the phone in so long is because you’re always busy. I work from home and Tiff is a stay at home mom, we always have time. It’s you, miss-fancy-pants-doctor, that’s never available.”

  There’s a pause and I suddenly feel awful. My sister is training to be a doctor. She’ll save lives, and I’m making her feel guilty because she has a busy schedule. “I’m sorry, that was mean. I know you have to work crazy hours for your residency, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “It’s okay,” she says, her voice small.

  “It’s not, I’m sorry. I just miss you.”

  “I miss you too. It’s been too long since we were all together. We always start to feel this way when we don’t get enough triplet time. I have a weekend off soon. Tiff can’t fly, so we should both go to her.”

  “Yes,” I say on an emotional exhale. I hadn’t realized how much I was missing my sisters. The three of us are much closer than most siblings, we need each other, and when we’re apart for too long it affects us all, as if we’re missing pieces of ourselves.

  “Yes,” Anna says, and I can hear the relief in her voice too.

  People rarely understand the relationship the three of us have. We can be apart and all live normal functioning lives, but after a while we all feel the need to reconnect, to be close and touch each other and the longer we go without it, the more bereft we all feel.

  “So, Marissa,” I say, needing to bring the conversation back to a lighter note.

  I can practically hear Anna’s swoon through the phone. “She’s just perfect.”

  I giggle and smile as my sister tells me all about how they first spoke and how their first date was. She sounds happy and my heart feels a little lighter just knowing that.

  “So what about you?” she asks.

  “What about me?”

  “I’m glad it’s over, but what happened with you and Greg?”

  “I thought we were exclusive; he thought he could fuck every woman he met,” I say on a sad exhale.

  “That fucker! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. It’s been a month, I’m over it.”

  “A month!” she screeches. “You waited a month to tell me you dumped his ass? Why didn’t you call me the day it happened? I thought I could feel something, but I assumed it was just Tiff’s hormonal pregnancy vibes.”

  Sighing, I rub at my eyes wearily. “Because I knew you guys all hated him, and I didn’t want to hear the I told you so’s.”

  “We wouldn’t have done that, Ry. We did hate him, but only because we could see that he didn’t treat you right, you deserved better.”

  “I know,” I say quietly, not wanting to admit I know he didn’t treat me right and that I just let it happen.

  “Okay, so now that dickface Greg is out of the picture, have you met anyone new?”

  “Err,” I say, stalling because I’m unsure how to answer the question.

  “You have,” she cries. “Spill.”

  “There’s not much to tell. The guy who owns the company I’m working for is kind of interested, I think.”

  “There’s more than that, tell me,” she insists.

  “Anna, it’s weird. He’s sort of flirty, but it’s really subtle. We’ve been out to dinner basically every night except for the times I’ve met Rosie.”

  “Why do I feel like there’s a really big but coming soon?” she asks.

  “Because there is,” I say and sigh. “I like him, he’s kind of perfect. Nothing at all like Greg. He’s a geek like me; he’s successful, motivated, and ambitious. He’s cute. He wears glasses and you know how I like a guy in glasses. But when he kisses me, I feel nothing.”

  “Nothing, at all?”

  “Nothing. The kiss is always nice and the build-up is great, but the moment he actually pushes his lips against mine I feel nothing. Nada,” I say agitated.

  “Wow.”

  “I know,” I cry. “I don’t understand. I like him, I’m attracted to him, but when he touches me, I get nothing, not even a spark. So many butterflies have died so unnecessarily in the last week I kind of feel bad about it.”

  Anna laughs, the evil bitch actually laughs.

  “Don’t laugh at me,” I shout.

  “It’s just…” she trails off, giggling.

  “Anna.”

  “I’m sorry. But if this guy doesn’t turn you on, why are you trying so hard to convince yourself he does?”

  “Because he’s exactly what I should want.” I whine.

  “Yeah, but obviously he isn’t right for you, or you’d be ripping his clothes off and screwing his brains out instead of whining about it on the phone to me.”

  “I know,” I sigh dramatically.

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” she snaps. “So your boss isn’t the guy for you. Stop going on dates with him and find someone who sets your panties on fire, treats you good, and screw him instead.”

  “I hate you and your reasonable logic,” I curse.

  Anna laughs and I can’t help but smile. Just as I open my mouth to speak again, a familiar black truck pulls up to the curb and I jump to my feet. “My ride just got here. I’ll speak to you later. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Baby Sis. Bye.” Anna says.

  Ending the call, I slide my cell into my pocket and step toward the truck. Expecting Park to appear, I silently groan when Justin’s huge, beautiful form comes around the hood.

  “Riley,” he says, a cocky grin twitching at the edge of his lips.

  “I was expecting Park.” I snap. I know I’m being a completely unreasonable bitch, but the moment I see Justin all of my frustrations about men bubble to the surface and I just can’t help but be mean to him.

  His grin slips slightly, and his hands slide into his pockets. He’s trying to appear relaxed, but I can tell my attitude is making him uncomfortable. “He stayed with Rosie and asked me to come fetch you. That a problem?”

  “No, it’s fine. Shall we go?” I say, biting my tongue and reminding myself that I’d decided to apologize for my behavior last week and be nicer to him. It isn’t his fault I have issues, and it’s not fair that I keep pushing my anger toward him, when he’s done absolutely nothing to deserve it.

  Today he’s dressed in a plain black t-shirt, his leather biker cut, and dark-gray cargo shorts with black Converse sneakers. One of his legs is covered in black and gray tattoos while the other is bare, which weirdly looks out of place against the rest of his colo
rful skin.

  He’s hot at fuck. His arms are massive, bulging beneath the fabric of his shirt, and his shoulders seem even broader than when I saw him last weekend. His eyes are narrowed at me and I get the impression that I confuse the hell out him. I doubt he’s used to any woman being unimpressed by him, but the truth is, I think he’s fucking beautiful. If he didn’t make me think of Greg, I’d probably be a drooling mess at his feet like every other woman out there.

  “You need any help getting into the truck?” He offers.

  “I’m fine,” I reply shortly, and completely unnecessarily.

  His smile morphs into a scowl and he walks away from me without another word, leaving me to climb in on my own. I seriously consider getting into the back seat, so I don’t have to be so close to him, but that just seems petty and kind of pathetic. Hauling myself up and into the cab, I settle myself into the seat and buckle my seatbelt as he does the same.

  He doesn’t look at me as he starts the engine and pulls into the line of cars, nor for the next five minutes as he navigates the heavy traffic as we try to leave the city. We crawl along the city street and I beg for a break in the slow-moving vehicles so we can end this oppressive silence and get to Archer’s Creek as soon as possible. Apparently, the gods are not favoring me today and instead we grind to a halt, cars in front and behind us.

  “Fuck,” Justin hisses quietly beneath his breath. Obviously, he doesn’t want to be stuck in a car with me for any longer than absolutely necessary either.

  Sighing, I pull out my cell and waste a few minutes ignoring him and scrolling through my Facebook notifications. The silence is suffocating. Normally, I enjoy the quiet; but here, now, in this truck, I feel like it’s so thick I can swallow it. Trying to think of something to say, I turn to look at him and find his eyes already on me, his brow furrowed as if he’s trying to figure something out.

  “Have we met before last weekend?” He suddenly asks.

  I frown. “Err, no.”

  “Huh.” He says. “Do I look like one of your exes or something?”

  “No.” I say quickly, not wanting to admit that my ex soured me toward good-looking, cocky men.

  His face falls and for a second, I feel bad. For once I hadn’t been being deliberately mean. “I usually go for the geeky types.” I lie.

  One side of his lip twitches in an almost smile, then falls again. “Okay, so if we’ve never met before and I don’t remind you of a nasty breakup or whatever, why is it that you seem to have a problem with me?”

  My mouth falls open and I stare at him. Somehow, I never expected him to call me on being a bitch. I try to decide what to say, how to explain my behavior, but all I can come up with is, “I don’t really know.”

  The cars ahead of us slowly start to crawl forward, but we aren’t going anywhere quickly.

  “You don’t seem like bitch is your personality. In fact so far, the only person I’ve seen it aimed toward is me. Given that I’ve only said about twenty words to you total, and I’m fairly sure they were all pretty basic and nice, I just don’t really know what the issue is here.”

  His straightforward honesty is refreshing, and I feel even worse for being unpleasant to him. “I’m sorry,” I say.

  His eyebrows lift and he’s obviously surprised by my apology. “Okay?” he says the single word as more of a question, rather than an acceptance.

  “I don’t really know why I’m being a bitch to you. Honestly, you just kind of rub me the wrong way. But that’s on me, not you. So I’m sorry and if we see each other again, I’ll try not to be hateful to you for no reason,” I say honestly.

  Justin exhales and he looks from side to side, his lips parted slightly, like he has no idea what the hell is happening. Neither of us speaks for a moment, then he turns to look at me and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something. When the cars ahead of us start to move, his attention is diverted back to the road ahead and he closes his lips, scoffs lightly, and concentrates on driving.

  It doesn’t take us long to navigate our way out of the city and ten minutes later we’re flying down the highway, the warm sun heating my arm where I have it leaning on the open window. Neither of us has spoken since my apology, but the majority of the tension in the air seems to have evaporated.

  “Do you like Houston?” Justin suddenly asks, surprising me.

  “I haven’t really seen much of it yet, but I love cities and I’m hoping to have some time to explore soon,” I reply as politely as I can.

  I’m not sure if he’s waiting for me to ask him something, but when I don’t we fall into silence again.

  “Rosie is shocked that you’ve been so cool about the whole MC thing. She said you weren’t much of a party girl back in college.”

  I sigh, not really wanting to start a conversation with him. I’m trying really hard to maintain this nice, forced politeness, but it feels bitchier to ignore his question, so I reply. “College was college, things change, and I had a good time last weekend. I’m surprised she got herself mixed up with bikers, but she said you guys are like her family, so I’m good with hanging out.”

  He nods and the road slips past us, the silence now almost comfortable. I don’t exactly want to sit and chat with him like besties, but I’m weirdly content in this strange, not friends, not enemy’s limbo.

  Eventually I spot the clubhouse ahead of us and I’m thankful that we’re here. He pulls the truck into a covered barn and parks it next to a black van. When he kills the engine, I open my door climbing out as carefully as I can. The truck is jacked up on huge tires and given my ability to trip over air, of course my foot slips and I fall toward the ground, bracing myself to land on my butt on the hard concrete. Huge hands wrap around me and my fall is stopped, the air bursting from me in a shocked puff.

  A swarm of butterflies burst to life in my stomach and my skin zings and tingles beneath his touch. I can feel the inhale and exhale of his chest behind me and my mouth falls open as a wave of something crashes through me, drowning me in a sensation so strong that I almost want to whimper from the intensity of it.

  As quickly as it comes, it’s gone. His hands leave my waist and his chest moves away from my back. My legs feel like lead and my heart is racing, as I slowly turn to face him, tipping my head back to stare at my savior. Justin’s eyes look a little glazed and I swear his breath sounds ragged.

  I can’t speak. My eyes won’t look away from him and sparks of want are pinging from me, scorching my shocked skin. He takes a step closer to me, his lips twitch and the hint of a smirk appears at the side of his mouth.

  The look on his face, the triumph in his eyes make me feel like a bucket of freezing cold water has been dropped over my head. The rush of awareness and lust dissolves, replaced with disappointment so acute I can almost taste the emotion. For a moment, just a millisecond, I thought I’d misjudged him, but I haven’t. He wanted me to want him and the moment he saw that heat from me he thought he’d won. He’s an asshole, just like Greg.

  The color in his eyes dulls and just like that it’s over. This moment, this thing that just happened between us is gone, maybe lost forever and all I can do is escape. So I do. I step to the side and I allow my gaze to lock with his. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, my voice rough and sad, then I walk away.

  I have no idea how my dick can go from so fucking hard it actually hurts, to so fucking soft so fucking quickly. My brain can’t keep up with everything that just happened in the last thirty seconds and I lean against the side of the truck needing the support from the cool metal.

  What I just felt, what she just made me feel, is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’ve felt lust, desire, want, more times than I can remember, but I’ve never felt a mind-altering connection like the feeling that hit me when my fingers touched Riley.

  I’m not a poetic motherfucker, but I swear the earth stopped spinning and the universe froze just for a moment; to show me, us, that this is it. That not even gravity; not even the g
reatest, most mysterious forces in the known world, was more important than the moment we just shared.

  Then it was gone, ripped from me, and I don’t understand why. I know she felt it too, that her world had been as rocked to its core as mine, and yet she just walked away. She thanked me for the ride and walked the fuck away.

  The feeling starts to return to my legs, and I wonder if maybe I have a tumor or something. Maybe that aberration that just happened was a clot exploding in my head and in a moment I’ll drop dead. The fucked-up thing is that if this is it, if that was my last experience in this life, then I’m glad. Because nothing and I mean nothing, has ever felt like that to me before and if that’s my lot in life then at least I got to feel it before it was too late.

  I stay frozen for another few minutes, waiting for the pain to hit, or for the world to suddenly go black, and when it doesn’t, I’m even more confused.

  “Smoke, you okay?” A voice calls.

  I turn toward the sound and spot Lord walking toward me, his brows furrowed in concern. “Is everything okay?” He asks again when he reaches me.

  “I have no fucking clue.”

  His gaze becomes even more concerned, and he reaches out and grasps my shoulder, squeezing firmly. “Brother, look at me,” he orders.

  Obediently, I do, lowering my eyes to his and watching as he scans me, looking for something, but I’m not entirely sure what.

  “What happened?” He asks, when he seems satisfied that I’m not bleeding or hurt.

  “Riley fucking Prince,” I say raspily.

  His concerned frown morphs into a knowing grin. “This is over a woman,” he says, his voice full of amusement.

  “I don’t even know what this is,” I say absently.

  “I never thought I’d see the day that a woman knocked you on your ass.”

  His words pull me from my reverie and I blink, finally reorienting myself. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He scoffs lightly, a big grin on his fucking face. “Good luck, my brother,” he says, squeezing my shoulder again then turning and walking away.

  What the fuck is it with people walking away from me today? First Riley, then Lord. I’m a people fucking magnet, they walk toward me, not away. But then Riley doesn’t seem to do anything the way other women do.