by Karen Renee
She giggled, and he wondered how many margaritas she and Stephanie drank before he came back. “Only you could talk about a kitchen faucet like that.”
Her wide smile and bright eyes were always a gut-punch, but in his bed at the clubhouse that punch twisted him up. His eyes slid to the side and he remembered the recent kitchen renovation with the separate galley area for drinks. That rich woman had been a stickler of the first order, and she’d changed her mind frequently, too, which meant he had an over-sized gooseneck faucet he wasn’t likely to off-load very soon.
“If I have a spare faucet at my warehouse, I’m puttin’ it in your kitchen.”
Those blue eyes widened at him. It was the second time she’d looked at him like he hung the moon and the stars.
“Sam, seriously, you don’t have—”
He lowered himself to her. “Baby, it’s unlikely anyone’s gonna want this faucet. Gotta drop you back at your place; we’ll swing by the warehouse and I’m puttin’ it in for you. Tonight. No lip, Whitehall.”
“I’ll owe you,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.
Her soft fingers guided his face back and he opened his eyes.
The smile she gave him was seductive.
“I’ll owe you a blowjob at the least.”
He kissed her, hard and fast. “Darlin’, you won’t owe me shit. But, I won’t turn down your sexy mouth on my cock.”
She smirked. “Should I pay you now, or after services are rendered?”
He shook his head. “How many margaritas have you had?”
“One, and I didn’t even finish it.”
He glanced to her glass and, sure enough, it was a third of the way full. Looking the opposite direction, he saw the pitcher on his dresser which was a little over half-full.
“You feel like another, or would you rather eat lunch?”
“Well, I don’t want to drink alone.”
He chuckled. “You won’t be, baby. Not a chance.”
Chapter Thirteen
Your Fingers Aren’t Broken
Kenzie
As Sundays went, this one had shaped up to be top-notch. Brute and I finished the pitcher of margaritas and a prospect had brought us burritos from a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant. While we ate, Brute found the NFL game featuring the Saints. I preferred college football, but his love of football knew no bounds. When the game went to halftime, I expected him to seek out other games, but instead he instigated a make-out session which escalated to sex. Even if he was aiming for a quickie, it was one of the best quickies I’d ever had.
I fell asleep on him during the second half, and I woke up feeling embarrassed.
He chuckled. “Told you, woman. If it bothered me, you’d know it, because I’d move you off me. Get dressed. We’re headed to my warehouse, I’ll fix your faucet, and we’ll order a delivery pizza or something for a late dinner.”
I pushed up on my elbow. “What about my car, Brute?”
He wobbled his head. “I spend the night at your place, we’ll get it first thing in the morning.”
My lips pressed together as I deliberated that. “Are you sure—”
“I hit the office at six-thirty, but if you don’t get up that early, I’ll go in later. Bottom line, it’s not a problem to take you by the shop to pick up your car. And before you ask, Gamble opens the shop at seven, but he’s always there at six-fifteen.”
“You guys sure know a lot about each other’s businesses,” I blurted.
He grinned. “Trust me, after what my club went through last year, it’s better to know too much than know too little.”
THE CABINET DOORS UNDER the sink were wide open and Brute stood in between them. He turned the handle for cold water and after a short gurgle a steady stream of water flowed from my new faucet. It surprised me how much quieter it was compared to my old one. I couldn’t hold back my huge grin.
He caught sight of it and shook his head. “You’re easy to please, Zee.”
I squinted an eye at him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing!”
His head reared back. “I don’t. That’s a damn good thing in my book, probably one of the best compliments I can give a woman. Just makes it hard to believe you’re single.”
My brows furrowed because I didn’t know why being easy to please would be a high compliment from Brute, but before I could ask about it, someone knocked on the front door.
No, pounded on my front door.
I turned around, saying, “Who on earth could that be?” but I got no more than one step toward the door. Brute stalked past me and crouched a little to look through the peephole.
He snorted, and it sounded like he was ready for whoever was on the other side.
I hurried to him. “Brute, wait a minute,” I whispered.
He looked down at me, his eyes glittering. “Your ex have a receding hairline, gold-rimmed glasses, and a ridiculous-looking mustache?”
Oh, no.
That described Caleb to a ‘t’, though the mustache came along after he met Veronica. I liked that Brute found it as ridiculous as I did.
I put one hand on his bicep and the other hand gently on his chest, trying to soothe him. The glittering in his eyes dimmed, only to make way for irritation. I spoke fast. “It is my ex, but you don’t need—”
More pounding on the door cut me off. Brute’s eyes widened, the look on his face speaking volumes. I let go of him and tossed my hands out in a ‘have-at-it’ gesture.
The grin he gave me couldn’t be more conniving if he tried. He opened the door and it blocked my view. I shuffled my feet to move to his other side, but his hand shot to my hip keeping me in place.
“Who’re you?” Caleb demanded.
“Seein’ as you’re the asshole banging the door down, the better question is, who the fuck are you?”
I heard Caleb’s frustrated sigh. Then, “Where’s Kenzie? She owes me answers and I need to talk to her.”
If my father were alive, he’d have clapped Brute on the back for his tone of voice alone. “She doesn’t owe you shit.” His frame bent thirty degrees and he straightened. “Strange. Your fingers aren’t broken. You need to talk to her, call her phone.” He stepped back and began to close the door, but Caleb’s words stopped him.
“You’re the biker, aren’t you?”
Brute’s frame went stiff. I tried to peel his hand away from me, but he wouldn’t budge. “Come again?”
“A detective approached me and said my daughter’s mother is dating an outlaw biker. That must be you.”
If I thought that detective went beyond the pale yesterday morning, this proved I’d underestimated how far he’d really go. I twisted out of Brute’s hold and scurried to the other side so Caleb could see me.
“Where’s Aubrey?” I demanded.
“With Veronica,” he clipped out. Then asked, “This thug a biker? Fact he opened your door tells me you’re dating him.”
“Who I date is none of your business.”
Caleb’s murky brown eyes narrowed at me. “It is if he’s around my daughter.”
“He hasn’t been. We’ve been on four dates so far, and normally I don’t tell any man that I’m a mother until now. When I decide to introduce Aubrey to a man in my life is my call. Not yours, and damn sure not—”
Brute cut me off. “Kenzie. How about we calm down?”
My head whipped to him and my eyes were wide as saucers. “You did not—”
He slid an arm around my shoulders. “Take a breath.”
Caleb chuckled derisively. “Yeah. ’Cause that works with her.”
I glared at him.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Brute bent his head toward mine. He whispered, “Need to know which detective spoke to him, Zee.”
Maybe I was determined to prove my ex-husband wrong or maybe it was Brute’s need to know who spoke to Caleb, but I did exactly what Brute suggested. I took a breath and got my shit together.
“Who was the detective who talked to you?” I asked.
Caleb folded his arms. “That’s hardly pertinent.”
My head tilted. “Did he approach while Aubrey was around? She loves firefighters and police officers. I can only imagine—”
“He’s a private detective,” Caleb sneered.
Shit.
That meant it was the creepy guy who approached me outside the bank. I had to stay focused.
“Was Aubrey around when he spoke to you?”
He stared at me longer than necessary, but shook his head. “No, Veronica had taken her to the bathroom at the restaurant.”
That didn’t make me feel much better, since the guy had obviously seen my daughter.
“What’s your issue, man?” Brute asked.
Caleb spared him a brief glance and turned back to me. “Get rid of him, Kenz. Or I’m filing for full custody.”
I crossed my arms. “Based on what, Caleb? Aubrey hasn’t met Brute, and he hasn’t done a damn thing wrong. Unless you have valid concerns, which you don’t, you need to leave.”
“He killed someone.”
I leaned forward. “Says who? He hasn’t been convicted – or even detained for questioning. He’s a business-owner for God’s sake, Caleb, not a murderer.”
Caleb’s eyes darted to Brute and back to me. “You’re making a mistake, Kenz. One look at him and I know he’s bad news. Do what I say, or I’ll see you in court.”
My pulse pounded in my ears and it took everything I had to speak calmly and clearly. “As it stands, I should file for full custody, since you can’t keep your scheduled dates. I’ve bent over backwards to accommodate you because of your job and your personal issues. So by all means, take me back to court. It’s double the legal fees for you, since Veronica’s already filed papers.”
Brute’s strong forearm wrapped around me from behind. “All right. You’ve said your piece. Get off her property, or the Biloxi P.D. will escort you off her property.”
He slammed the door in Caleb’s face, which should’ve tickled me pink, but I was too riled up. Not once after Caleb divorced me and started dating did I make a fuss about who he saw. Who the hell was he to do that to me?
Then worry set in, because going to court was expensive. I had some savings, but not enough for legal fees.
With his arm still around my waist and his body at my back, Brute guided me just past the couch. Still behind me, he sat down, which forced me to sit down. His legs had spread wide, affording me some room. His other arm came around my front and he rested his chin on my shoulder.
“You gotta rein in that temper, Zee.”
Relief washed over me that he didn’t call me, ‘Kenz,’ like Caleb had.
I sighed. “Easier said than done when someone threatens to take away your child.”
“Fair enough.”
We both jumped when another knock cut the silence.
I took advantage of Brute’s surprise and bolted to the door, muttering, “If he thinks he can camp out...”
My voice trailed away as I looked through the peephole. A pizza delivery person stood there, and I opened the door.
I took the box. “Let me get you some—”
Brute reached forward and gave the man two twenties. “Keep it.”
Then he closed the door.
“You really didn’t need to do that, Brute. Especially since you put in the faucet, this was—”
He took the box from me, but his head lowered toward me. “Stop, Kenzie. Whether I pay or you pay doesn’t matter. It’ll even out in the end.”
My brows furrowed. “Not sure how I’m going to even out you installing a piece of plumbing.”
His forehead rested on mine. “Yes, you do. Mentioned it at the clubhouse.”
My lips twisted to the side. “That hardly counts, since that normally gets me off, too.”
His brow arched. “Let’s eat.”
In the kitchen, I got down the plates. “Sorry, I don’t have any beer. There’s red wine if you want, diet soda, water, or I can make you a cup of coffee.”
He stared at me for a while and I wondered what he was thinking.
“Pour us some wine, babe. You’re wound up. Nothin’ you can do about this shit right now, okay?”
After pouring two generous glasses, I said, “I’m not going to stop seeing you.” Immediately, I wanted to bite my tongue. I looked up at him. “I mean, unless you don’t want to—”
“Kenzie. Relax. We’ll keep this goin’ for as long as it’s good.”
He hesitated which made me nervous.
I whispered, “Okay.”
He sighed. “I don’t normally see women for long periods of time, babe.”
I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Got it.”
“But, you know better,” he muttered.
“What?”
He gave me a look. “Your daughter comes first. I get that you don’t want that jackass dictating your life, but—”
“I’m not doing Aubrey any favors by being a pushover to her father.”
His head tilted as he considered that. “No, but like you said, she hasn’t even met me. How would she know you’ve been a pushover?”
I sipped my wine. “It’s the principle of the matter.”
He sidled around the island and slid an arm around my waist. “Appreciate that, Zee, but I’m not gonna be the reason you see less of your daughter.”
My eyes widened. “See! That’s exactly why I should keep seeing you. You care enough you’d take yourself away.”
His exhale sounded almost like a growl, but he kissed me before I could mention it.
Brute
KENZIE WAS WRONG. HE wasn’t so good he’d take himself away from her. She didn’t know that he had killed a man. While he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to tell her, it was coming clear he’d have no choice in the matter. And he knew she’d kick him to the curb the moment she knew about it.
Something about not seeing her again bothered him. Yet, other than sweet-butts, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw the same woman more than once. Earlier she’d mentioned him meeting her daughter, and the thought made him nervous, but he couldn’t deny he wanted to meet Aubrey.
He’d inhaled his first slice of pizza and didn’t taste it. Biting into the second slice, he realized this local place made a mean pizza. He looked up when he heard Kenzie groan.
She chewed quickly, then swallowed. “Sorry, I just love their pizza.”
He grinned. “No need to apologize about that. Life’s meant to be lived, means food should be enjoyed, the louder the better.”
A small smile flitted across her face.
Even though he took his time eating his second slice, he still finished eating before her.
He hit her bathroom to give her a moment to herself. There were so many signs he should back away from her: her being a single mom, her naivete about his motorcycle club culture, but mainly the arrival of Wreck’s brother and Detective Tovar.
Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He found her wrapping up the pizza, and said he needed to get something from his truck. While outside her house, he walked down her driveway, which was longer than most of the others in the neighborhood. For the most part that was a nice feature of her house, but something about it made him uneasy. He made it to the sidewalk and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of any cars out of place, not that he’d know for certain, but his gut told him things were fine.
For now.
He pulled out his cell and called his Dad as he wandered back toward his truck.
“Hey, son. Your new girlfriend let you up for air?”
He shook his head. “Wouldn’t call her my girlfriend. Thinkin’ I have to cut her loose, even if I don’t want to do it.”
The sound of his dad moving through the house filled his ear. Then, “Since when do you do a damn thing you don’t want to do? Far as I can recall, t
hat hasn’t happened since you were teenager. So, why do you think you have to break this off? You meet her daughter?”
He sighed. “No, Dad. You remember what we talked about at your office? A homicide detective approached her about me bein’ an outlaw. Then Wreck’s brother posed as a private detective and spoke to her ex-husband. He’s threatening taking Kenzie back to court if she keeps seein’ me.”
His father made a familiar, low sound in his throat. It always indicated he was mulling something over. “What’d she say?”
His lips tipped up. “Said she wasn’t goin’ to stop seein’ me because her ex wanted her to. Though I pointed out I wouldn’t be the reason she couldn’t see her daughter.”
His dad paused. “I know there’s more, Sammy.”
He took in a deep breath. “She said that was why she should keep seein’ me. Thinks I care enough to take myself out of the equation.”
Dad exhaled hard. “I like her even more, son.”
“Not what I wanted to hear, Dad.”
“You didn’t call me to tell you what you wanted to hear. If you did, you need an ass-kicking.”
He chuckled. “You’re getting up there—”
“Shut the hell up. What are you really worried about?”
His chest tightened. “I gotta tell her that I did it. She’s gonna kick my ass to the—”
“Don’t borrow trouble. I’ve failed you if I didn’t teach you at least that much.”
“Dad, why do I even care? Other women, this shit wouldn’t matter. I’d leave, or she’d push me away. It wouldn’t matter.”
There was silence, then his father laughed so loud he pulled the phone from his ear.
He interrupted the chuckles to ask, “You done yet?”
“Yeah. You don’t need me to answer those questions, Sam. Take all the questions and question marks out, boy. It’s not ‘why do I even care,’ but just ‘you care’. Which means you’re right. Other women, it didn’t matter, because Kenzie matters to you.”
The tightness in his chest squeezed harder as he inhaled. He hadn’t expected Dad to say any of this.
