“We need to get you a new outfit. Nothing says ‘biker babe’ like leather.” She got up and started down the hallway. “What do you have in your closet? This might call for a shopping trip.”
We took our wine party into my bedroom, and Lizzy sat on my bed as I tried on outfit after outfit.
“I’m gonna be real with you,” Lizzy said as she chewed. We had moved on to cheesecake, and Lizzy talked with her mouth full after a glass of wine. “You’re single now—your endless collection of pantsuits and grandma heels are just not gonna cut it. You need to look young and fun.”
The pile of clothes on my bed was composed of three colors—black, brown, and navy. Polyester slacks were strewn as far as the eye could see. Nothing said “young and fun.” It all just screamed “machine washable.”
I collapsed next to her on the bed. Lizzy offered me a bite of her dessert. As we shared the piece, I realized something about myself.
“I’m boring,” I said around a bite of cheesecake.
Lizzy nodded solemnly. “And a virgin.” She took the empty plate and put it on my nightstand. “But I have an idea. We can go shopping. We’ll jazz you up so you can play the part, I promise.” She slid off the bed. “I know a place that will have just the thing. Plus we can walk—it’ll be nice.”
It was a long walk. It drizzled on and off, but the cold air cleared my head.
We turned a corner, and she grabbed my arm. “That’s it.”
The flashing light on the top of the building said Jiggles. It was a strip club.
“They have a retail space in the front that’s open late.” She pointed. “Just a regular adult store. I’m sure we can find something there.”
“We can’t go shopping there!” I turned to leave. “What if someone were to see us?”
“Who cares if they do?” Lizzy countered. “We’re not in high school. We’re adults. It’s an adult store.” She put her arm around my shoulders and steered me to the blue neon light of Jiggles.
The security door buzzed as Lizzy and I entered the adult shop. Vibrators and all sorts of sex toys lined the walls. I’d never been in one of these places before. There were a lot of colors. I never realized that someone might enjoy a fluorescent green silicone penis.
“You don’t have to stick to just clothes. Buy anything you like, but let’s start with clothes first.” Lizzy grabbed my arm and dragged me to the back of the store. “If you’re pretending to be a biker’s girlfriend, you have to look the part.”
She loaded my arms up with microscopic skirts and leather bustiers and then directed me toward a dressing room. It was much easier to just do what she said than face a head-on collision with the train that was Lizzy.
After nearly a half hour of trying on all manner of slutty clothes, I knew this was a bad idea. I glanced at my phone and almost fell over when I saw the time. I should have been in bed hours ago—it was a work night.
“It’s midnight, and I can’t wear any of this stuff,” I called through the dressing-room curtain. “I feel so uncomfortable in everything. They will know I’m a fraud.”
I had on a red leather bathing suit top and the jeans I wore to the shop. I couldn’t wear this outfit to a custody meeting. I couldn’t wear this outfit anywhere. I didn’t have that much self-confidence. I would spend the entire time cringing in a corner.
“Just try this on, and I promise we can go.” Lizzy handed me another garment through the dressing room curtain. It was yet another leather vest. This one had a long fringe hanging from the bottom.
After wiggling into the vest, I examined myself in the mirror. It cinched up my boobs a little more than usual, but overall it wasn’t bad. I came out of the dressing room.
“It’s not too much?” I asked, looking at myself in the big mirror.
Both Lizzy and the cashier were beaming. “No, you look great, honey!” The cashier had closed the shop early and spent her time helping us.
“I think we found it,” Lizzy said, watching me in the mirror. “You actually kinda like it, don’t you?”
It was slimming, and it covered everything, at least. I swished the fringe around my hips. It was fun.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I do kind of like it.”
When we got home, I tried on the entire outfit. A pair of old jeans that Lizzy had ripped up, my white tank, and the fringed vest. It was definitely a fun outfit, and it made me feel good. It was a lot sexier than what I had in my closet, but maybe it was what I needed right now. As I changed out of my new outfit and got ready for bed, I realized I might need to keep a strong line between reality and this harmless ruse. I wasn’t this guy’s girlfriend. I was just playing a part for a few weeks.
Chapter Eight
Skeeter
I borrowed a truck from Tate to pick up Miriam for the meeting with Davide and Christophe. I sat idling outside the front entrance of Miriam’s office building. I was early. Leaning down to turn on the radio, I noticed a sticker with the Storm Kings logo covering up a crack in the dash. Pretty soon we’d have to replace any old logos with the Demon Horde skull. That included the tattoo on my shoulder. Maybe I could cover it up with Christophe’s name; I wasn’t sure I wanted to be permanently marked as part of the Horde.
Everyone I had met from the Demon Horde were good guys, but they were just a little harder than we were, a little rougher around the edges. Most of the cash was from illegal guns, and a while back they dabbled in drugs. The newest prez of the Horde cleaned up their act and now had everyone on a drug test routine, similar to our requirements. Tate just kept things a little stricter up here in Tacoma, and our business ventures weren’t high-risk. But I wasn’t sure the Horde was where I wanted to raise my kid.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. The big glass doors of the law firm opened, and a gorgeous woman with curly brown hair exited the building and walked toward my truck. My jaw dropped. Her jeans were tight as hell and molded to her legs. She had on a tank top, and a black leather vest put her breasts on display.
Damn, it was Miriam. When did she grow that rack? Long fringe hung from the bottom of the vest and danced around her thighs as she walked. Her high-heeled boots clacked on the concrete. Along with the sexy outfit, she also had a huge duffel bag.
Scrambling out of the truck, I held the door open for her. I had just tossed out the suggestion that she pretend to be my girlfriend, but she had really taken it to heart. I swear I tried not to look. It was hard, though, especially when I got a good view of her denim-clad ass as she climbed into the truck.
Once we were both seated in the truck with the big duffel bag between us, I turned down the street toward the park where we would be meeting Christophe and Davide. I was sure once I saw my kid I’d forget all about the hot lawyer.
“Sorry I was late,” she said. “I forgot I had to change. I figured if I was playing the part of your girlfriend, I needed to wear leather.”
“You didn’t need to put on a costume.” A sexy-as-hell costume. I cleared my throat.
“Is it too much? I thought it would be good to dress the part.” Her hands flew to her chest, and she started to unbutton the vest.
The only thing sexier than her outfit was watching her remove it. I needed to put a stop to this. “No, it’s fine,” I said, frowning. Damn, that came out harsher that I had intended. Jesus. She was still unbuttoning. “Just stop. You look fine.”
“Oh.” She rebuttoned her vest and then slumped back against the seat with her hands clenched in her lap. “I’ve got a jacket in my bag. I’ll just wear that.”
We drove for a few blocks in silence. Fuck. I had screwed that up. She looked so disappointed, just staring out the window. She’d been smiling when she first got into the truck, and now she wasn’t. I tried to think of something to make her smile.
“I like it. You look like someone I would
date. I mean, you look attractive.” I cringed. I just told my lawyer I was attracted to her and wanted to date her. Fantastic.
“Uh, thanks.” The corners of her mouth turned up just a little bit—a bit of a smile.
As far as compliments were concerned, it was pretty shitty. But it was the best I could come up with right now, and at least she was smiling again. We rode the rest of the way to the park in silence.
When we got to the park, Davide met us on the sidewalk. His girlfriend and Christophe stayed on the bleachers. He’d been pacing. Interesting; he was nervous.
“How’s he doing?” I asked as soon as Davide got close.
Davide shrugged. “He’s a quiet one. Don’t say much. You got the cash? Forty or no kid.”
I rolled my eyes. It was annoying as shit that we had to discuss terms before I could see my kid.
Miriam stepped up right next to me. Normally if a chick got this close, I would assume she wanted a kiss or something. But this was my lawyer. I raised an eyebrow and waited for her to say something. Instead she tugged on my vest. Maybe she really was taking this role as girlfriend seriously? I sure as hell wasn’t going to refuse a kiss from a beautiful woman.
I leaned in, and her lips just grazed my cheek. She smelled like flowery soap. I’d kiss her if that was what she wanted. But I didn’t want to move too fast and scare her in front of Davide and give away our ruse.
She reached up on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, “We need a DNA test done first, then get him to agree to regular visitation until we get the results back.”
I scowled and stepped back. Fuck. Of course. All she did was whisper legal advice. She wasn’t some off-duty stripper working at the clubhouse. I took one last look at her. Too bad. She was damn hot.
I dragged my concentration back to Davide. “We need to do a test first. Then, once we’re sure, we’ll talk money.”
There was no way I could get that kinda cash together. I was just biding my time, hoping that between now and the paternity test results, something would change and I wouldn’t need the money. Maybe Davide would take a payment plan.
“No tests. He’s either your kid or he ain’t.” Davide crossed his arms over his chest.
We squared off. I stared at him; he stared at me. Even ten years older, Davide looked like he could handle himself in a fight. I’d bet he’d done some hard living in those ten years.
“You think I’m gonna give you forty grand for a kid who might not be mine? You and I both know that as soon as I left for the service, Delphie did whatever and whoever she wanted.”
Even Davide knew when he was beaten. Delphie had been beautiful and the life of any party. It was a hard combination for her to control, so instead she indulged, with anyone and everyone.
“How about an over-the-counter test? Like the ones you can get at the drugstore? No doctors, no records,” Miriam suggested.
“This ain’t your business, honey,” Davide growled at her and then turned back to me. “I want my money first.”
“Hey.” I took a little step toward Davide. Just enough to intimidate him. “Don’t talk to her like that. She’s my girl, and it’s a damn good idea. I’m not paying you shit until I know he’s mine. Over-the-counter paternity test, or I walk.”
“Fine,” Davide agreed. “But no doctors or shit on this. I wanna do this real quiet and all.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, pretending to decide. There was no fucking way I would let Davide take Christophe anywhere. Whether he was my kid or not, Christophe wasn’t gonna live with those two tweakers in a shitty motel. He wasn’t even in school. I just couldn’t give away my plans to Davide.
“Okay, but until the test results come back, I see him twice a week. Tuesday and Thursday.” If Davide could make demands, so could I. At least monitored visits would let me know he was all right. Besides, it would give me a chance to get to know him.
Davide glared. He was pissed. He needed cash, and he wasn’t gonna get any until the test results showed I had a kid. “Fine. But either me or Amy is always there. No visits alone. Got it?” He stuck out his hand.
We shook on it. “I want to see him now,” I said.
Davide turned toward the bleachers and motioned for them to come down. Christophe peeked around the girlfriend, looking at Miriam and me. He took a deep breath, and his little chest expanded and puffed up. Then he stepped forward.
I crouched down. Miriam said it would be best to be on his level.
“Do you remember me?” I tried to keep my tone neutral.
Christophe just stared and then lifted his shoulder in a slow shrug.
I felt a hand on my shoulder—it was Miriam. She knelt down to join me.
“Well, guys, I brought a Frisbee and a baseball. Would you like to play catch?” She smiled, and Christophe managed a small smile too.
“Baseball.” He grinned. “I was in Little League when we was in Mobile. I catch real good.”
Miriam produced the black duffel bag and began looking through it. “You gonna play with us, ma’am?” Christophe asked.
I smiled. My kid liked her too.
“Uh, well...” She looked to me. She was still on her knees from digging through the bag.
I stared. From my vantage point, all I could see were the tops of two glorious breasts as she pulled the gloves out of the bag. She looked up and then frowned. She caught me looking. Damn.
“Why don’t you boys play first, then maybe I can join you later?” she suggested, handing me a baseball mitt.
I tore myself away from her chest. This pretend-girlfriend thing was a bad idea—especially right after I’d cut Asia loose. I needed Miriam around to hear what was going on, but I also needed to fucking concentrate.
“No, no. You play too.” I handed the glove back to her. “I’ll play barehand.”
We tossed the softball around the field for a while. Christophe told me about his time in Mobile and Birmingham and Baton Rouge and New Orleans.
“You sure have lived in a lot of different places.” I smiled and nodded, hoping he would explain.
Christophe threw me the ball. He was pretty good at catch. “On account of Uncle Davide’s business. The police are always trying to shut him down, but he’s just trying to make a living.”
Shit. I could hear Davide’s voice as Christophe said it. Drugs, fraud, it didn’t matter. Whatever Davide was into, he had graduated well beyond the dime-bag pot dealer of our youth.
Miriam and I shared a brief glance. I wanted the motherfucker drug-tested. Now.
“Where do you live?” Christophe asked.
It took some time, but I explained to Christophe that I used to live in Breaux Bridge, next door to his mama and uncle.
“I been there once.” He caught and threw. “We stayed a week or so, then Granny got mad at Uncle Davide and Aunt Amy. I didn’t want to go, but Aunt Amy said I had to or they wouldn’t get no food stamps.”
Right. Davide kept Christophe close for the government benefits. That didn’t surprise me. But what was unusual was why he’d decided to tell me about Christophe, and why he’d chosen now to do it.
“Why did you move up here to Washington?” I asked as I threw the ball to Miriam.
She’d been watching Christophe’s every move and nearly missed the catch. As she dove for it, one of her breasts came dangerously close to popping out. She tossed the ball to Christophe and then went to adjust her top.
Our eyes met. She blushed. Shit. I had just been checking out Miriam’s rack. Before she was just my lawyer, but now she was Miriam with the nice tits. Dammit. Maybe I should call Asia tonight.
He shrugged. “Uncle Davide said he’d find a pot of gold up here. Enough so he wouldn’t have to work anymore.”
I tried not to let my anger show. Davide thought I was his pot of gold.
Boy, was he in for a surprise. I wasn’t poor, but I didn’t have the kind of cash he was looking for. I wondered what other schemes Davide had cooking. The back child support that I owed wasn’t about to take care of him for life. He must have another plan, some way to make that cash grow.
“That’s it!” Davide yelled from across the soccer field.
That was the end of our meeting. I watched Christophe closely as he gave Miriam back the mitt and ball. I wanted to memorize his movements, the way he spoke, the way he walked. Just in case.
Christophe and Miriam put the equipment away, and he and I just sorta stood there. What the hell do you say when you’re trying to get to know your son?
“Are you my pa?” he asked.
Fuck. Well, he knew how to start a conversation, that’s for sure. I knelt down so I could look him in the eyes.
“I don’t know.” I decided honesty was the best way to go here. “I sure hope so.”
He rubbed his toe into the grass and looked up at me. “Me too.”
Davide and his girlfriend loaded Christophe into the truck and drove off. He was my kid. There was no denying it—from his freckles to his smile, he was my kin. I let him just ride away. But going after him would mean kidnapping and a whole host of other charges. I had to play it cool. One day he would go home with me, and we would be a family.
“Hey.” Miriam smiled, patting my arm. “He’ll be yours, I promise. It might take some time, but it’ll work out.”
Had she always been this beautiful? Midnight-dark curls that framed her face, warm brown eyes, and, of course, those breasts. For just one moment, I wanted a human connection. Someone to fill that void left from watching my kid ride away. I couldn’t hug Christophe, but I could hug Miri. So I bent down and put my arms around her.
It was supposed to be just a friendly touch with a pat on the back. But once she was in my arms, forget it. I was done. I hauled her up against my chest and then lifted her up until her feet couldn’t touch the ground. I thought of Christophe asking if I was his old man. Jesus Christ. As I held her there against me, I also thought of everything I had missed. First steps, climbing trees; hell, he already knew how to throw a baseball. But there was still so much more in his life. I wanted to share what was still coming.
Rebel Custody Page 5
