by Beth Flynn
"Where were you the night you were supposed to be fixing Joe's motorcycle?"
His eyes widened. I knew the second he realized how I knew because he couldn't mask the fury behind his baby blues.
"Debbie has a big fucking mouth," he spat.
"I never said I heard it from Debbie, and you promised you wouldn't ask," I cried.
"I don't have to ask," he sneered. "I told Joe to cover for me, and that would've included her."
He wasn't denying that he lied. He was more concerned about Debbie's betrayal. I immediately jumped to her defense. "Maybe Joe never told Debbie." I could feel the hairline cracks in my heart, and I hadn't even gotten to the part where I would demand to know where he'd been and who he'd been with.
"Even if Joe didn't tell Debbie he was covering for me, she should've known better." He scowled. "I don't know how your conversation went down with her, but if you hinted that I was with Joe that night, she should've nodded her head and changed the subject. It's an unspoken rule, Mimi, and Debbie knows better. The same would be expected of you if the roles had been reversed."
"I never heard that rule, and Debbie is relatively new to the lifestyle, Christian."
"She's not that new, Mimi," he replied, his tone calmer.
"Maybe she really cares about me, Christian. Maybe she cares more about my friendship than that stupid club."
"It would appear so," he said. "If I were to tell Joe about this, he'd be pissed. It makes them look bad."
"And?" I asked. "Where were you? And don't lie to me, Christian. I'm not going to be that wife. The one who will forgive you for cheating. So, if it's happening, you need to tell me now because I am not going to hang around for years and pretend not to know or care."
I couldn't be certain, but it looked like he was trying not to smile. "Yeah, I remember. Cheating was one of your deal breakers."
"This isn't funny, Christian." I thrust my chin in the air.
"No, it's not. I'm sorry, Mimi." He grabbed the back of his neck and tilted his head sideways. "I was with Blue and Isaac. I didn't even tell Joe. I just told him to cover for me in case it ever came up, which it obviously did."
"Blue?" I hadn't realized how tense I'd become until I felt my muscles start to relax. "Why were you with Blue and Isaac? And why couldn't you tell me about it?"
"I asked Blue to help me stage a little show for you." His eyes grew serious. "I know you've been having a hard time discerning your feelings about the MC lifestyle. We've talked about you being caught up in the whole club thing. I get it. That kind of living, that kind of power can come with a high. The crew at The Alibi has been relatively mild compared to other places, and I know you saw a couple of spats, but they were nothing compared to reality."
"You had Nigel say those horrible things so you could beat him up in front of me?" I wasn't sure if I was angry or grateful.
"No," he said through a clenched jaw. "That wasn't how it was supposed to go down."
"And?" I motioned for him to continue.
"Isaac was supposed to engage me, and I was going to say something shitty to him, and he was going to pound on me. Nigel was never in on it. It was just me, Blue, and Isaac." He reached above his head and used both hands to grab the doorframe. Leaning toward me, he continued, "But when Nigel said what he did..."
I could see flames of fury in his eyes. "I could've killed the son-of-a-bitch."
I was stunned by the confession, and upset at the beating Christian had given Nigel. But then another thought occurred to me. "You weren't cheating on me," I said with a relieved sigh. "And you were willing to take another beating." A wave of love rushed over me. "For me."
He let go of the doorframe, walked toward me, and pulled me up against his body. "Don't you get it yet, Mimi?"
"Get what?" I asked breathlessly, while the heat and hardness of his body pressed against mine.
"How totally in love I am with you?"
A hard squeezing fluttered in my chest and only got more intense when he added, "I can't remember ever loving anyone but you, Mimi. Ever."
His lips came crashing down on mine. Christian's mouth felt hard, desperate. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him swallow me whole. I groaned and tried to pull away, thinking to lead him to the bedroom, but he wouldn't let go of me. I reached for his belt buckle but he swatted my hands away.
He broke from our kiss long enough to say, "No. Just this."
And that's what we did. Kissed. I lost track of time as my husband and I made out fully clothed in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the dining room. His deliberate denial of what my body craved only heightened my need. He must've sensed when my legs started to weaken because he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. He gently laid me on the bed and stood over me, pulling his shirt up over his head. I sat up, and once again reached for his belt buckle. He didn't slap my hand away this time as my hands quickly and expertly removed his jeans.
Giving me a wicked grin, he asked, "Did it work?"
As I was getting ready to take him in my mouth, I looked up.
My head was fuzzy, so I shook it and asked, "Did what work?"
"The little show Nigel inadvertently participated in. Are you still fascinated with the club?”
His head was bent as he watched me, his long hair threatening to cover the ripped abs that always caused an ache only he could appease. At that moment, I lost all reasoning. Coherent thought wasn't an option.
"What club?"
* * *
Later, I scooted out of his arms and told him I wanted to take a bath. He said he would join me in a few minutes.
In the bathroom, I pinned up my hair, lit some candles, turned on the faucets, and reached under the counter for my favorite bubble bath. I realized that the bottle was empty, so I set it on the edge of the tub and reached for another one. Empty. I blew out an aggravated breath and reached for the third and last bottle.
“What the frig?” I said, frustration dripping off each word.
“What the frig what?” I heard Christian ask from behind me. I hadn’t noticed him as he came up behind me. I held up the third empty bottle, waving it in the air. “Why would I put not one, but three empty bottles of bubble bath away?”
His eyes ran up and down the length of my body, memories of what had just happened in the bedroom causing the corners of his mouth to tug upward in a devilish grin.
“Christian,” I demanded. “Did you hear me?”
“How should I know, Mimi." He shrugged. "When was the last time you took a bath?”
I chewed on my lip as I tried to remember. “Two, maybe three weeks ago. And that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
"It's obvious you put them away thinking you had more. I don't see what the big deal is." He wandered over to the tub, placing his hand under the water, testing it. "Daisy spends the night here. Maybe she takes baths and used it up."
It was a reasonable assumption. Daisy had spent several nights at our home, and I never questioned or noticed whether or not she took a bath or shower while she was here. I grabbed my bath salts and after sprinkling them in the water, looked over at Christian and noticed he was frowning down at the tub.
"What's wrong? Too hot for you?"
"No," he told me. "I just know that every time I've taken a bath with you, my hair is so long, half of it gets wet. I don't feel like drying it or going to bed with wet hair."
"I have a solution," I told him while I reached in one of the drawers for a hair tie. "Kneel. You're too tall for me to do this."
After he got down on one knee, I grabbed all of his hair and twisted it into a bun. He stood up and eyed himself in the mirror.
"You put my hair up in a bun," he said evenly.
"I know. I recently saw Grizz do it. My mom told me he does it to aggravate my grandfather, but she kind of likes it. She calls it a man-bun."
"I look ridiculous," Christian told me while simultaneously reaching for the hair tie to pull it out.
"Don'
t!" I cried while grabbing for his hands. I looked sideways at him. "You know, on my father, I didn't get it. But you look good. Leave it in. For me." I batted my eyelashes exaggeratedly. "Please?"
He didn't answer right away, but stepped into the tub, and after sitting down and motioning for me to follow him, said, "Anything for you, Dreamy Mimi."
Chapter 55
Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007
It was about a month after our dinner with Christian's parents, and Aunt Christy's suggestion to widen our friendship circle had been spot on. I immediately warmed to Glen and Susan, and I knew they liked me too. We'd only met up with them twice before she invited me to her book club which met every Wednesday, and was more of a girls’ night out since very few of them had time to read a book a week.
Christian had decided to spend his Wednesday evenings with Glen working after hours at the garage for some overtime that Axel doled out in cash. It was strange. Both Christian and I had wealthy parents, and never had the financial burden that so many young couples faced. We could go to either set of parents if we ever needed monetary help. I knew the Bears had given Slade a condominium as a graduation present. They'd made the same offer to Christian and me as a wedding gift. We hadn't turned them down, but put it on the back burner while we did what Christian originally suggested, which was to rent for a year before deciding on anything permanent. In the meantime, we paid our bills using our money and still managed to live quite comfortably.
We hadn't been back to The Alibi in almost a month, and I didn't miss it at all. However, I did miss the loss of what I thought was a solid friendship with Debbie. She'd started making excuses and turning down a couple of my invitations to meet up with them for dinner. I'd tried to meet her for lunch, and she was always too busy. When she turned down my offer to grab a quick coffee, I swiftly realized that she hadn't been my friend. Even though she'd kindly asked about my situation with Autumn every time I called her, I figured it might’ve been more gossip-fueled than concern for my welfare.
As he’d promised, Christian never confronted the couple about Debbie not covering for his lie, so I knew she wasn't upset about that. I think our supposed friendship took a nosedive because Christian and I were no longer the proverbial cool kids at The Alibi. Debbie may have pretended not to care about the biker hierarchy, but it was now obvious to me that it hadn't been true. She cared more than I’d thought, and if she and Joe weren't going to be seen hanging with biker royalty—as Christian and I had come to be known—they didn't have time for us. I guess it was better that I found out sooner rather than later.
It was a cool Saturday afternoon in November and Christian and I were heading over to Glen and Susan's to discuss the possibility of the guys going into business together. Since they preferred repairing bikes over cars, they'd been toying with the idea of opening their own shop.
It was Autumn's weekend to have Abby, but more than likely she left the little girl with her handicapped mother. Even though the woman was wheelchair bound, now that Abby was no longer an infant, Autumn’s mother was able to manage her visits and welcomed the child with open arms. I knew it was only for two days, but I missed my stepdaughter. I couldn't imagine what my father felt spending fifteen years away from me while he was in prison. Children had a bigger impact than I'd ever imagined. I laid my hand on my abdomen and tried not to mourn the child I would never carry.
Christian was driving my car when we stopped for gas at my regular station. I pulled my reward card out of my wallet and handed it to him with a reminder: "Don't put in diesel like I did," I teased.
He rolled his eyes before lowering our windows, turning off the engine, and swiping the card from my hand. Once he started the pump he leaned in my window and asked, "Is this where you always get your gas?"
"Always," I answered without looking at him. I'd been texting with a lady at the museum who wanted to know if I'd be interested in working full-time for two weeks while another employee recovered from surgery.
"And you never get gas anywhere else?" he probed.
I sent the message I’d typed on my phone and looked up at him. "This station is convenient to home and work, and has the best prices. Why?"
"Because there aren't any diesel pumps at this station," he replied while scanning the other kiosks. "You never get gas anywhere else?"
"I can't say that," I answered. "I'm sure I've stopped at other stations, but it's not the norm. I'm a creature of habit," I said with a shrug. "You know that."
We spent the afternoon with Glen and Susan and were saddened to have to turn down an invitation for Thanksgiving at their home. I told them we would be spending it with my grandfather in North Carolina. Early on, I'd handled casual inquiries about my family by telling them they lived in Montana. After a time, Christian had privately reminded me to be careful. "I understand why you've stuck to the Montana story, Mimi, but what are you going to do if you actually say it to someone who's familiar with Montana, and starts asking deeper questions?"
His observation was accurate and I considered it a miracle that it hadn't happened yet. I would remember to ask my parents for their thoughts and advice when I saw them at Thanksgiving.
After finishing up at Glen and Susan's, we headed home with a plan to go for a motorcycle ride together the next day. I was getting ready to ask Christian if it would be a good time to give Slade his surprise present when my phone pinged. I must've made an uncomfortable sound because we stopped at a red light, and Christian looked over at me.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"Rachel."
"Who is Rachel?" He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and scanned the intersection, only half interested.
"It's Nick Rosman's fiancée."
"Yeah, right," came his reply.
"She wants to know if I can have lunch with her next week. She's already asked like four or five times and I’ve always made excuses. I think she wants to be friends. I guess she's seen me talking with Jolly Roger so maybe she feels it's okay."
"Do you want to be friends with her?" he asked. He turned his head toward me and tucked his chin against his right shoulder, his blue eyes looking at me over the top of his sunglasses.
"Not necessarily. And it's not because she isn't a nice person. It doesn't feel right." I glanced at the light and told him, "It's green."
"You're too nice, baby," he said as we proceeded through the intersection and approached our neighborhood. "Some people and relationships aren't meant to be. They're like dead skin. After a while, if you don't slough it off, it starts to itch. When it starts to itch it annoys and distracts you. You've gotta scrape them off, Mimi, before they take you away from what's really important. How many hours have you wasted fretting over how to tell this girl you aren't interested?"
I'd already known that Christian saw the world in black and white, but it became more obvious since I'd moved to Florida. Christian either liked someone or he didn't. A potential friendship was something he wanted to pursue or drop. He didn't waver with what-ifs or maybes. I remembered his advice when I had to break up with Lucas at college. "Rip the Band-Aid off," he'd told me.
"You're right," I informed him when we pulled into our driveway. "I'll let her know, and I'll tell her why I don't think it would be a good idea." I thought about the embarrassment I would've saved myself in pursuit of Debbie's friendship if she'd been honest with me about not feeling the need to stay friends. We no longer fit into her and Joe's world, just like Rachel and Nick had no place in mine and Christian’s.
I asked Christian how much longer it would be before he gave Slade the surprise he'd been working on.
"I'm thinking about asking him over tonight.”
"It's ready?" I asked.
"I want to give it a once-over, but yeah, it'll be ready. I know it's last minute, but can you check and see if he wants to come by?"
"What should I tell him?"
"Tell him the truth." He grinned at me. "That it's a surprise."
“Give me your p
hone.” I held out my hand. “Mine is almost dead. I need to charge it.” He handed it over and I stuck it in my pocket.
I went inside and found my charger while Christian headed to the garage. I called Slade from Christian's cell phone, and when he didn't answer I sent a text.
I caught up on chores and reflected on how in spite of the loss of our friendship with Debbie and Joe, things had been looking up. For starters, Autumn's harassing notes had ceased. I hadn't seen her in over a month, which was fine with me. And when I mentioned her to Aunt Christy I was told that she'd heard through Autumn's mother, that Autumn had finally found a love interest. Mrs. Truncle had never again visited the museum, and I was enjoying my job more than ever. I was making good progress in my eating disorder therapy and had even joined a support group that met weekly. I'd only been once, but it was nice knowing they were there if I felt the need to share outside of my weekly visit with my therapist.
Finally feeling settled and confident in my new life was having another positive effect on me. I didn't seem to be as scatterbrained as I'd been when I'd first moved here. Adjusting to a new husband, stepdaughter, family, job, therapist, had weighed heavier than I’d thought. I guess I'd been so overwhelmed, I couldn't seem to focus on what I was doing, and I'd started to believe I really was Dreamy Mimi. Yes, I was proud of myself that it had been over a month since I'd done something ridiculously stupid. Like putting a gallon of milk away in the cabinet instead of the refrigerator. Or washing my car and leaving the hose on all night.
I looked over at the chess set and the candlestick that replaced the white queen we'd never been able to locate. I would have to say that the missing queen was the biggest regret in my lapse of responsibility. When we'd discovered Abby's fascination with the chess pieces, I was certain I'd made it a point to put it out of her reach. But I'd obviously not stayed on top of it because it came as a surprise when Christian and I discovered the piece was gone. I knew it would show up one day, but until then, it nagged at me.
