I’ve changed since then.
And so has he—in my eyes, anyway.
She smirks and says, “I didn’t tell him I was busy working tomorrow. In fact, I’m doing nothing tomorrow.”
My eyes widen. “Well then.”
I guess he’s still interested.
Chapter Nine
After a solid night’s sleep, I wake up feeling much better than the day before. After a conversation with Ivy, which probably didn’t give her any of the answers she wanted, I fell asleep in my new fluffy pajamas. With no alarm, I let my body determine how much rest it needed, and it seemed to have worked. I have a shower and dress in my new jeans and black off-the-shoulder long-sleeve top, loving the way they fit me.
Once I’m all ready to face the day, I unlock my bedroom door and step outside. The place is quiet, so everyone must have left, or those who don’t live here have probably gone home.
“Temper?” I call out, heading for the kitchen.
I find him there, sitting in a white T-shirt and some shorts, a mug in his hands. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Like a baby,” I admit. “Being kidnapped is really tiring. Not that you’d know, since I’m guessing you’re usually the kidnapper, not the kidnappee, but yeah, I was exhausted.”
“Do you want some coffee?” he asks as he stands in front of the coffee machine, ignoring my comments, not taking the bait. “And something to eat? Or do you want to go out for breakfast?”
“Just coffee sounds great for now,” I say, sitting down and watching him work his way around the kitchen. “Where is everyone?”
“At work,” he says. “We run a few different businesses, and everyone always has somewhere they need to be. It’s flexible, though, so if they have something else they need to do, someone will always cover for them.”
“What kind of businesses?” I ask, being nosy.
“We have a bike shop, selling custom bikes,” he explains and tells me all about the services they offer there. “We also have a bar, a club. We have our fingers in a few pies.”
“I’ll bet.”
Illegal pies, no doubt.
My phone beeps with a message. Hey it’s Izzy. I got Temper to send me your number. I’ve made you a list of the places you need to see and eat at before you leave. Enjoy your date!
I don’t know about it being a date, but I know she’s giving me shit from our conversation last night. “Izzy sent me a message.”
“I gave your number to her, I didn’t think you’d mind. You two seemed to have hit it off.”
“No, I’m glad you gave it to her,” I tell him. “Do you have any updates about the men who tried to shoot at you?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
“What about information on the man who died, who he was, if anyone has any suspects, or if there was any camera surveillance?” I ask.
“There was no camera footage,” he admits, sitting down next to me and sliding me my coffee. “And he hasn’t been identified yet. No one seems to have any information on the man.”
“Thank you,” I say, blowing on the mug. “So you have nothing, and I’m stuck here until you do. My whole town must be in an uproar. I don’t think we’ve ever had someone murdered there before.”
“The police are keeping it quiet from what I’ve heard, probably for that reason. Did you decide where you want to go today? I thought we could take the bike, if you don’t mind,” he continues, watching me drink my coffee.
“That’s fine,” I tell him, remembering how much I enjoyed being on the bike with him. I show him Izzy’s text message. “Can we go to one of these places? Maybe we should start at number one.”
Temper laughs. “These are all food places.”
“I know,” I reply, shrugging and ducking my head. “We can eat and then you can take me somewhere. Maybe to one of your favorite places.” I pause and then add, “Unless it’s a strip club or something.”
He chuckles under his breath. “I’m not that stupid. Let me have a quick shower and then I’ll take you out for breakfast at one of the Isabella-approved places.”
“Thank you,” I call out as he leaves the room.
I keep myself busy by washing the few dishes in the sink and wiping down the counters while Temper gets ready. When he steps back into the room in jeans and a fresh black T-shirt, I can’t help but check him out, even though I don’t really want to. He’s such a complex person, and I know he has many layers to him, but there’s something about him that just draws me in. I look away, because I don’t want him to catch me looking at him.
After everything that has happened, I shouldn’t be looking at him like this. I’ve seen what these men are capable of, but it’s not all black and white, and I’m finding that out firsthand. These men are the definition of shades of gray. Men you want on your side, not against you. They have no boundaries or limits.
They are good and bad.
I don’t know where I want to stand with him—my emotions are all over the place. I want to lash out at him, but I also want him to keep me safe, and to take care of me.
The whole situation is fucked.
I don’t want to forgive him for what he did to me, and I don’t know if I ever completely will, but I can feel myself slowly giving in. He’s obviously not all bad, kidnapping aside, and if I’m going to embrace my current predicament, maybe I should embrace him, too.
“You ready?” he asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Yep. I want to grab my purse from the car, though,” I say, walking past him with a little extra sway in my hips.
“I like the clothes you chose,” he says from behind me, and I can practically feel his gaze.
“Probably good considering you paid for them all.”
We stop at the car and I grab my handbag, slide my phone inside and cross the strap over me. “You ready for another adventure?” he asks, handing me a helmet.
“Always.” I get on behind him, my arms tightly around his body, and the taste of freedom in my mouth.
* * *
“How old are you exactly?” I ask Temper as we sit in Eggslut eating delicious egg salad sandwiches. “When I first met you, I thought you were about midthirties.”
“I was. Now I’m forty-two,” he admits.
My eyes widen. “Okay, I didn’t think you’d be that old. You don’t look that old.” I don’t know why forties sounds so much older than thirties.
His lip twitches. “I’ll take that as a compliment. We have fourteen years between us. I thought you knew that.”
“I don’t know what I know,” I grumble, making him laugh softly.
We do have a big age gap, which is quite intimidating. Obviously I knew he was older than me, but I didn’t realize it was that substantial. I wonder if I come off as immature to him, especially as I remember giving him the finger yesterday, and all but stomping my feet and carrying on at him.
“The food is good,” I state, changing the subject.
“It is,” he agrees, taking a bite of his sandwich. “I haven’t even been to most of the places on Izzy’s list, so it’s going to be a new experience for me, too.”
“What, do you normally just stick to your usual places?” I ask.
“Yeah, there’s a few places near the clubhouse that we go to a lot. Plus I’m usually too busy, and going out to eat at new places isn’t high on the priority list,” he explains.
“It should be. Food is one of the best things in the world,” I say with a grin. “And you aren’t too busy today.”
“I’m taking time off. Can’t let you leave here without having a proper L.A. experience, now can I?” He finishes the last bit of his meal.
“No, I guess not,” I say, taking a sip of my juice. “What would your day normally consist of? MC stuff?”
Working in a bar that has lo
ts of bikers passing through, I do hear enough to figure out how the whole MC thing works. People tend to see waitresses as invisible and talk freely in front of us. I don’t know how Temper runs his club, but it will be interesting to see. They do treat each other like family, which is something different from what I’ve seen with other MCs.
“Taking care of anything that pops up, really. Problems with the businesses, or anything the men need me for. Making sure everything is running smoothly, and everyone is taken care of,” he explains.
“So you’re basically the dad of the entire MC,” I conclude, leaning back in my seat and watching him. “Daddy Temper.”
He laughs out loud. “Please don’t call me that in public.”
“What about when we aren’t in public?” I can’t help but ask.
His brown eyes darken and fill with heat. “Then it’s fair play.”
Clearing my throat, I look away, unable to take the intensity in his gaze. “Well, I’m ready to leave when you are.”
“Where are we going?” he asks. “Home?”
“No,” I reply, smirking. “Nice try, though. We’re going to spend the rest of the day exploring the city.” I want to see everything.
“I’ve had worse days,” he teases, placing some money with a tip on the table.
“I’m paying for lunch,” I announce, to which he laughs.
“No, you’re not.” But to his annoyance, I hand the waitress my credit card.
We leave Eggslut and head out on our next adventure, and throughout the rest of the day, I mentally tick off each place after each visit. I’ve never not worked, and this little kidnapping is starting to feel like a holiday.
As fucked-up as that sounds.
I worry about Mom, and if she’s taking her medication and attending the appointments. I wonder if Ivy is cleaning the house, and if she knows how to do the inventory at Franks by herself. I’ve never even been away from my mom for more than a night or two, because she never allowed that. I even went to a local college so I could still live at home. I’m so out of my comfort zone right now, but it feels exhilarating.
Ivy messages me and I send her a picture back of me standing in front of the Hollywood sign. She now knows where I am for sure, and can put together that I’m not too far away at all. I feel bad that she’s at home working and covering my shifts while I’m eating like a queen and sightseeing, but I promise to make it up to her when I get home. More than anything, I feel bad that she’s the one who will have to listen to Mom worry and panic about where I am right now.
My mom has always had anxiety, and it has played a huge role in her parenting. I know it has a lot to do with her own childhood, and the lack of love she got from her parents. They didn’t care what she did, they used to hit her anytime she did anything wrong, and she was always made to feel like she wasn’t welcome in her own home. A childhood like that leaves its mark on a person, and I know she always wanted to be the mother she never had.
It’s like she has tried to do the opposite with us, but in an unhealthy way. She’s constantly worried about us, and has always been overly careful in everything we do. Helicopter parenting at its finest. She has always instilled in us that there are things to fear, something I had to teach myself to overcome as a teen. I don’t think I’ve realized how codependent and a little unhealthy our relationship is until now. She’s a good woman, and I know she loves us more than anything, but she definitely has some issues she needs to work on.
When we get back to the clubhouse, Izzy has bought a new suitcase for me and left it on my bed. I don’t think I’ve ever met such thoughtful people, especially from people I haven’t known long, and who aren’t family. I send her a quick message saying thank you, and asking her when she’s free next so I can take her out for lunch or something.
She replies instantly. How about tomorrow? Or is Temper hogging you? I was thinking on Saturday night Skylar and I could take you out and show you the nightlife?
I glance up as Temper sticks his head into my room. “How come you get gifts? They never leave anything for me on my bed. If they did it would probably be a fuckin’ prank.”
“I’m going out with Skylar and Izzy on Saturday night,” I say, deciding to tell him not ask him. Why should I have to ask him? He said I should enjoy my time here, and I’m going to do just that.
“Okay,” he replies, shrugging. “I’m going to cook dinner, so I’ll be in the kitchen.” He cooks?
Daddy said yes, I text back, giggling to myself.
Izzy replies with a bunch of laughing emoji faces.
We only have the one small bar in my town, so that’s the extent of my experience, so I’m looking forward to having a girls’ night with them.
When I head to the kitchen, I find Temper in there sitting up on the counter, reading something on his phone. “What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Reading a recipe for potato salad,” he admits, placing the phone down. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not usually the one in the kitchen.”
“Come on, I’ll help you make everything,” I say, hiding my smile. Side by side, we cook a roast with potato salad and peri peri corn for anyone who decides to drop in for dinner tonight.
I don’t know what I pictured it would be like being with someone in an MC.
But it wasn’t like this.
Chapter Ten
Saturday comes around and I’m wearing the red dress I bought with Izzy paired with some black strappy heels that Skylar lent me. With my hair down and my eyes rimmed in black kohl, I’m looking and feeling pretty damn good.
“So how are we getting there? A taxi?” I ask them as I put on my red lipstick in front of the mirror.
“Crow will take us,” Skylar says, running her hands through her thick red hair. “He’ll probably stay, too. There’s no way the men are going to let us be there alone.”
There’s no anger or bitterness in her tone when she says that, so I can’t help but ask, “Don’t you guys mind that you can’t go anywhere without someone watching you?”
“I can see why you would think that,” Skylar admits, standing up from my bed and moving next to me at the mirror. “But when you’ve been through the shit we’ve been through, you can understand why it’s a good idea to have one of the men around. Trouble doesn’t just find us, it follows us around. And to keep us safe, it’s in all of our best interest.”
My eyebrows raise. “So what the hell am I supposed to expect tonight then?”
Skylar shrugs, her lip twitching. “Who knows? Just know we will all have each other’s back and everything will be okay. You’re going to have fun, so don’t even stress. Just a few drinks, and a dance, and we’ll take you to the hottest spots right now. I’m going to pour us some shots of Jäger to get this party started.”
We leave my room and walk to the kitchen, then outside to have a drink before we head out. Skylar puts some music on, and it’s not long before we’re all chatting and laughing. Temper finds us, his eyes coming straight to me and taking me in from head to toe.
“Fuck,” he grits out, and clears his throat. “You look beautiful, Abbie.”
“Thank you,” I reply, and I can feel my cheeks heating. He looks good himself, in a black collared shirt and jeans, and he smells even better. “What are you all dressed up for?”
“I’m coming with you,” he says, grinning devilishly. “Didn’t think I was going to miss out on the fun, did you?”
Skylar’s eyes widen, and she pours herself another shot. “You’ve never voluntarily come out with us. Ever.”
“That’s not true,” he denies, sitting down and pouring himself a drink. “What about in Vegas, Izzy? I went out with you then.”
“Yeah, you did. But I’m pretty sure you sat there on your phone all night, nursing a glass of whiskey and avoiding anyone that tried to talk to you. I remember a few women tried to
get your attention and you didn’t as so much as give them a glance.”
He ignores that comment. “I’ll stay off my phone and will try to have a good time.”
Skylar is still staring at him like she’s only just met him, a look of surprise etched on her face. “Who are you?”
When Saint and Renny also walk in, all dressed up to go out, we know exactly what’s going on.
“What happened to a girls’ night?” Skylar asks Saint, scowling. “We didn’t invite you guys. We were expecting Crow to come, and that’s it. Tonight is about Abbie having a good time, not you all marking your territory.” The girls obviously like Crow, because they sound like they would have preferred that.
“We all want Abbie to have a good time too,” Temper replies, sounding offended at the idea that they are coming for any other reason.
“That’s why we’re coming. We’re the life of the party,” Saint adds, grabbing Skylar around the waist and nuzzling her neck. “And Renny is going to drive, so I get to enjoy a drink with you.”
Skylar turns to look at me, and I just shrug. I don’t mind if they come.
Temper comes and sits down next to me, lifting his glass up to cheers with my shot glass. “To Abbie and her first night out with us.”
“To Abbie!” everyone else chimes in, clinking glasses.
And that’s how one very messy night begins.
* * *
“Oh my God, I love this song!” I say, not for the first time, pulling Temper to the middle of the dance floor and spinning around in a circle with my hands raised in the air. After drinking for over an hour at the clubhouse, Renny drove us to two clubs before we ended up here at club number three on drink number God knows what. I don’t know how Renny has been putting up with us all night, with him being sober, but he’s been patient as hell and laughing at all of our antics.
Temper’s hands come around my waist as I grind my hips into a seductive circle, or at least I think that’s what I’m doing. Temper’s not much of a dancer, but he stands where he’s meant to and moves with me, which I think is really cute. This is obviously not his ideal scene or weekend hangout, but he’s putting in the effort to be here with me and I do appreciate that.
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