Storm MC Collection Books 1 - 4 (Motorcycle Club Romance)

by Nina Levine

  “I thought you were just getting juice.”

  “Babe, you need more than juice,” he stated as he handed me a banana, “Eat this, and then I’ve got some Gatorade for you to drink.”

  “I don’t think I could stomach a banana, Scott.”

  “Eat it, it’ll help get rid of your headache.”

  Oh, so bossy.

  I watched him as I peeled the banana. He moved around my kitchen like it was his own, putting drinks in the fridge and adding more bananas to the fruit bowl. Not only had he bought me Gatorade and bananas, he’d also stocked me up on juice and coconut water.

  “How the heck does a man like you know these things?” It could have just been my fried brain, but Scott didn’t strike me as someone who would know what foods and drinks helped with sickness. There he was, dressed in jeans, big black boots, a tight black t-shirt, and his biker jacket. He had tattoos all over his arms and chunky silver rings on his fingers; he had that scary hot look about him. It was the kind of look that blazed a warning to me to stay away for the safety of my heart. Why, oh why, did God bring hot, sexy men into my life that were clearly not made for me?

  He stopped what he was doing and gave me his full attention. “A man like me?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest while he waited for my reply.

  “Well, you’re a biker - ” He raised his eyebrows. Shit, where were my freaking words today? “What I meant to say is, you don’t come off as the type of man who would know that bloody bananas get rid of headaches.” I was completely flustered now, and the banana would have no shot at clearing my headache because I’d just made it ten times worse.

  “Yeah babe, I’m a biker but I’m not fucking ignorant. I do know things, for instance, that bananas help with hangovers.”

  I buried my head in my hands. This day had just started and I was already making a mess of it. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Takes a lot more than that to offend me. Now eat that banana. I’ve got shit to talk to you about and I need you thinking straight.”

  I did as I was told while racking my brain trying to figure out what the heck he could want to talk to me about. He cleared the banana peels into the bin and brought me a Gatorade before sitting across from me at the table. I couldn’t help staring at his arms as he folded them in front of him. Arms were it for me; the first thing I noticed about a guy, and I’d noticed Scott’s that first day I’d met him. I quickly decided that he must spend a lot of time in the gym; he was built, and I bet if I were to reach out and touch him, he would be rock hard.

  “My eyes are up here,” he drawled, and when I lifted my eyes to his, I took in the sexy grin plastered on his face.

  He knew how he was affecting me; no doubt he had the ladies lined up. Not being able to come up with a witty comeback, I did the only thing that came to mind. I poked my tongue at him. Yeah, real mature, but he did things to me; one of them being that he screwed with my mind and turned me into a hot mess, unable to process my thoughts quickly.

  He surprised me by laughing. It was one of those genuine laughs that made his eyes crinkle, and that sent another jolt through me. Crinkled eyes were another turn on for me. Weird, I know, but there was just something about a man whose laughter touched his whole body. It was all tied up with my feelings about family, happiness and my desire to build a life with a man who also valued those things. Crinkled eyes symbolised those things to me.

  I took a sip of Gatorade and waited for him to talk. He indicated for me to drink more so I did. Finally he spoke. “The job’s yours if you want it.”

  I nearly spat my drink all over him. “What? Why?” Again, sentences were not forthcoming.

  “I was a dick to you last night. You were right; I don’t know you. If you say you can handle asshole customers, I’ll give you a shot.”

  Right. Dick last night. Asshole customers. Another shot. I churned through these thoughts much faster; the banana must be working. And then another thought occurred to me.

  “How did you know where I live?”

  “I asked Amy. You gave her your address last night to give to the cabbie. Now babe, focus, because I’ve got another appointment to get to. Do you want the job or not?”

  “Are you always this bossy?”

  “Yeah, it gets shit done.”

  “No, I meant with women. Do you boss every woman around that you meet?”

  “I meet a lot of women, and yeah, I boss them around. But if you’re asking whether I boss around the women whose homes I visit and who flash their ass at me on that visit, I couldn’t tell you because I’ve never visited a woman at her home before.”

  There was that crinkle at his eyes again; the one that gave me butterflies in my stomach. He was watching me intently and it put me even more off my game.

  “Well, just for the record, I’ve never flashed my ass at a man I just met. Not until today, anyway.”

  Oh, good Lord, his eyes crinkled even more if that was possible, and then he smiled which brought out his dimple, and I was completely gone. “I get that about you, babe. I’ve no doubt that if you weren’t hungover, I wouldn’t have been treated to any of what I’ve seen this morning.”

  Of course, just at a crucial moment in the conversation, my phone started ringing. It was where I’d left it last night, on the kitchen bench, and Scott stood up straight away to retrieve it. He grinned at me as he passed it to me. I wasn’t sure why he was grinning like that so I ignored it and checked to see who was calling. Seeing that it was Cassie, my friend who took me out last night, I hit the button to silence the phone. She was a have-a-chat and would keep me on the phone for ages. Placing the phone on the table, I looked up to find Scott leaning against the bench with his arms folded, still grinning at me.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “What the fuck is that song you’ve got for a ring tone?”

  “Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler. Why, what’s wrong with it?” I asked, indignantly. I loved that song.

  “How old is that song?”

  “So I like songs from the eighties. I also love the nineties. You got something to say about that?”

  He held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Wouldn’t dare, babe.”

  “Good. Now, about this job. I don’t know what I was thinking last night. It must have been the alcohol. I don’t want to work in a strip club, sorry. But thank you for making the effort to come here.”

  He nodded, and then pushed off from the bench. “That’s what I figured, but thought I’d let you make that call.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to head.”

  I followed him down the hall, to the front door, making sure to check out his ass as I walked behind him. I figured I’d never get to see it again, so may as well enjoy it while I could. It was just my luck though, that he whipped around to face me just as he stepped outside, and caught the direction of my stare.

  Chuckling again, he reminded me, “My eyes are up here.”

  Throwing caution to the wind, I muttered, “Yeah, but they’re nowhere near as nice to look at.” Holy shit, I couldn’t believe I actually said that. I never flirted that openly with a man; usually I was too shy.

  A slow smile formed across his face. “Never met anyone like you. You continue to surprise the shit outta me.”

  I smiled back. “Yeah, well I’ve never met anyone like you either.”

  “Later, sweetheart,” he said, and left me standing there, drinking in the sexiness that was Scott Cole as he walked to his bike. My head still ached, although not as bad as earlier, and my stomach was still ill, but my happiness levels were at an all time high. It was just a damn shame that this was the last time I’d see him.

  9

  Harlow

  After Scott left, I spent a couple of hours lounging in front of the television, wishing for the time to pass quickly. The sooner I got through this day, the sooner I’d feel better. Mum rang me just after twelve o’clock to see how I
was doing and to tell me that she picked up some more catering jobs. And then I remembered that Cassie had tried to call me earlier so I dialled her number.

  She answered straight away. “Did you just wake up?” She sounded as awful as I felt.

  “No, I was woken up by a visit from Scott earlier this morning.”

  “Scott, as in the guy from the club last night? The one who you met at the vet?”

  “Yeah, him. He came to offer me a job, but I said no. I don’t think I want to work in a strip club. Do you think I should have accepted it? We do need the money -”

  “Stop second guessing yourself. And no, Harlow, I can’t see you working in a strip club. We’ve known each other for what, six months now? You’ve become my best friend, and I need to tell you that it’s time for you to chase your dreams now. You gave up everything to move here to help your Mum, and you did help her, but she’s getting the café back on its feet now, so you should stop settling for any old job and go for what you want.”

  “I’m your best friend?” A warm sensation settled in my tummy.

  “Yeah, you are,” she replied, and I could hear the affection in her voice.

  “You’re mine too, girl.”

  “Oh my goodness, I feel like we just agreed to go steady, dude.”

  I laughed, but got serious when I said, “Cass, I haven’t had a best friend for a long time now. Not since Dale cheated on me with Anna. He stole my best friend from me.”

  “No, they stole each other from you. She was just as much to blame as him, that bitch. Actually, I think what she did to you was worse. Best friends don’t sleep with each other’s boyfriends. First rule of best friend club.”

  “What’s the second rule?” I teased her.

  She was straight on it though. “Second rule is, if you hate someone, I hate them too. And third rule is, I’ve always got your back. You need me, you call me. I don’t care what time of day it is. I live by that quote, it’s the friends you can call at four am that matter.”

  “I think I love you even more than I loved you before I rang you. And I’m even feeling better too.”

  “Well, you just remember that. And don’t forget that I’m a jealous bitch too.”

  Laughing, I said, “I know. I’ve seen you in action over Ben. God forbid any woman that makes a move on your man.”

  “Yeah, my husband knows how it is. And I feel the same way about you.”

  I sighed. “Seriously, Cass, you’ve made my day. You always manage to cheer me up when I’m feeling down.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. Now, back to your job situation. I know you’ve always wanted to pursue your art, and you’re a damn good artist so I think you should look into ways to get your art out there.”

  “I don’t think it’s something that can earn me a living.”

  “You won’t know unless you try though, will you?”

  “Mmmm…”

  “Mmmm’s your way of fobbing me off, and I’m not letting you do that this time. We need to get your paintings into a gallery.”

  “Oh, God, you’re taking over, aren’t you?” Memories of the time that Cassie had harassed a car dealer into selling a car to me for less than he wanted to came to mind.

  “Think of it as me being your manager. Christ, I need something to keep me occupied while Ben has me stuck at home being his Stepford wife.”

  “You’re the farthest thing from a freaking Stepford wife. Ben could only hope for you to be submissive but we all know that you wear the pants in that relationship.”

  “Okay, okay, you’re right. Anyway, leave it with me; I’ll get you into a gallery. You just start painting.”

  I could hear the excitement in her voice. Cassie loved a mission. “It’s all yours, but I may need to get a part time job in the meantime.”

  “Do what you’ve gotta do, but like I said, get painting.”

  “Yes, boss,” I promised, and we finished our conversation.

  I spent the next few hours pampering myself, hoping it would negate the effects of the hangover. I showered and gave myself a facial, pedicure and manicure. At the end of it all, I felt a million times better. So, it was on that high that I received a phone call from my mum that shot all my plans to shit.

  “Harlow, honey, one of the fridges at the café died. I’m rushing around trying to sort all the food into the other fridge, but I’m pretty busy and could do with a hand serving customers while I take care of it.” She sounded frazzled.

  “Sure, Mum. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be there.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. Thank you,” she replied, and hung up.

  I quickly threw on a dress, grabbed my keys and bag, and drove the short distance to Mum’s café. We lived about six minutes from it, which I loved because traffic and I didn’t see eye to eye. There were way too many idiots on the road, and too many road rules to follow.

  Mum’s body sagged a little when she saw me walk through the front door. The tension just whooshed out of her. Being such a strong, independent woman since the day my father died when I was fifteen, she had a tendency to take everything on by herself and hated to ask for help.

  “Thanks for coming,” she greeted me, and gave me a hug.

  I grabbed an apron and shooed her with my hands, “Go. Sort your fridges. I’ll take care of the customers.”

  She saluted me. “Yes, honey. I’m gone.” And with that, she darted out to the back kitchen.

  I spent the next few hours making coffees and serving food. It was a fairly busy afternoon, and the time flew by. Mum dealt with her fridge storage issues and then made calls to find out about getting the fridge fixed. Just after five thirty she appeared at the counter looking upset. I’d just locked the front door after seeing the last customer out.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her with a sinking feeling. Mum was such a practical person; not much made her look that down.

  “I need a new fridge and that’s going to cost thousands. Thousands that I don’t have.”

  “Shit.”

  She exhaled loudly. “Just when things were turning around. Why is it always two steps forward and five steps back? For once, I just want things to be easy.”

  I went to her and grabbed her in a huge hug. “We’ll work it out, Ma. We always do.”

  She clung to me for a few minutes and then pulled away, exhausted eyes searching mine. “I’m not sure how this time, Harlow. It feels like we’re at the end of our rope. And I’m not sure I have it in me to fight anymore. I’m sick of rolling with the punches. I’m black and blue from them.”

  My heart cracked a little more for her. She’d done so much for me in my life; made so many sacrifices. It was my turn now to do that for her. And I knew I had at least one option open to me.

  “I’ll help. I think I can get a night job and that will help pay for the fridge. But I need to go there now before they give the job to someone else. Will you be okay to close up by yourself?”

  She nodded, relief flooding her face. “Thank you,” she almost whispered, and I could tell she was fighting tears.

  “I love you, Mum. And I’ll do anything to make this work.”

  “I love you too, baby girl. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  I left her to close up, and flew down Sandgate Road towards the Valley. Our café was at Clayfield and Scott’s club was in the Valley. Unfortunately, it was bloody peak hour so traffic was a bitch. What would normally take me ten minutes, took me just over twenty. Between that trip and finding a park when I got there, I’d managed to yell abuse at one driver and give another the finger. As I walked to the club from the carpark, I contemplated the intelligence of my decision to give up smoking a year ago. I could really do with a cigarette right about now.

  When I got to the front door it was locked. Damn it. I probably should have realised they wouldn’t be open at six o’clock at night. Digging in my bag, I found my phone and Googled their phone number. No answer. Shit. I dialed it again, hoping to annoy them i
nto answering but still no answer.

  “Can I help you?” a deep voice surprised me from behind. I spun around and was met with the greenest eyes I think I’d ever seen.

  “Do you work here?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  I stepped back and ran my gaze over him. He was tall and dressed in similar clothes to what Scott had been wearing the last time I saw him; jeans, black t-shirt, biker vest and boots. He didn’t appear to have any tattoos but he was rocking the chunky rings; just about every finger had a ring on it. And he was stacked with muscles. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, and the corded muscles in his arms screamed at me for attention.

  “My name’s Harlow, and I’m looking for Scott. Scott Cole; do you know him?”

  Nodding, he sized me up. He must have decided I was okay because he stepped around me and unlocked the front door, ushering me in. I entered and got a good look at the club as it was lit up. Oh, good Lord, that carpet. It was worse than the carpet you saw in an RSL club; gaudy as hell. But I figured that no-one would be paying much attention to it and besides, the lights were usually off during business hours. Red seemed to be the main colour of Indigo; red carpet splashed with little black symbols, red walls, and red seats that had a touch of black on them. There was a circular bar area a little off centre to the right as you entered the room, and the stage where I was guessing the strippers did their thing was to the left.

  I followed the guy past the bar, around to the right, and through a locked door. Now we were in a short hallway that we followed to the end, at which point he stopped and knocked on the door we were now standing in front of.

  “Scott, you free? I’ve got a Harlow here to see you.”

  I waited quietly, watching the guy and wondering about him. There was something about him; something that told me not to screw with him. He had the look and the aura of a man that you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

  My thoughts were interrupted when the door flung open and Scott appeared, looking a little tense. He frowned when he saw me. “What’s wrong?”