"I'm a little neurotic when it comes to germs," I explain. "You know I'm a nurse."
I think I see a little smirk form at the corner of his mouth.
"I'm aware."
"I mean I get to see firsthand the havoc that a little bacteria can cause."
"You don't mind letting that dog of yours lick you."
"That's different."
"Uh huh. Am I all clear now?" he asks after rubbing his hands together and holding them up for me to see. I think he's teasing me although you can never be quite sure with Stone. I'm learning that his face seems to always hold the same expression.
Clear of emotion.
Intimidating.
Beautiful.
"All clear." I look away from his face. "Let's eat."
After he takes a few bites I can tell that he's holding back, trying his best not to devour my meal. I think he may be really hungry or he really likes it. I'm not sure which it is.
"This is good," he finally says. Giving himself permission to at least enjoy it.
"I'm glad you like it. Please eat as much as you want. There's plenty since Savannah isn't eating."
He takes a long gulp of his bottled water. Watching me carefully while he slowly swallows. Holding me stock still in my seat with his stormy gray eyes.
"Why does Savannah call you Tiny?" he asks coolly.
"Umm, well that's my nickname."
"Nate doesn't call you that."
I place my fork down.
"It's not a family nickname. It's a school nickname."
"When you went to college?"
"No, high school."
I'm starting to lose my appetite from this line of questioning.
"You know Savannah from high school?"
"Yes." Unfortunately, I do.
She was always the snarky little badass in school, who had plenty of sex, yet never seemed to get a bad reputation for it. Meanwhile I was easily holding onto my virginity. In fact, I barely had a date to my prom.
"So why did Savannah, or girls like Savannah, give you that nickname?"
I take a sip of my water.
"You sure are curious about meaningless things from the past."
He stops chewing and watches me carefully.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want."
"No–I mean it's not a big deal," I explain defensively. "It's just that...I was always a little bigger than the rest of my friends. I'm not even sure who came up with the name, but for some reason it just stuck."
"So, since they, whoever they were, didn't consider you a small girl they started calling you Tiny?"
I haven't given serious thought about my nickname in a long time, but now that he brings it up, I consider for a moment why I continued to allow it to follow me into adulthood. Why did I tell my college friends that was my nickname when they had no idea and would have never called me that if I hadn't told them? I never liked the name.
"Yes," I admit.
"Your friends could have come up with something a little more original."
"I guess."
I'm annoyed until Stone licks the seasonings from the chicken off of two of his fingers. Like an instant mood lifter, the act is almost pornographic to watch and makes me forget about everything we were just talking about.
The final lick of his thumb makes me twitch a little in my seat.
I hand him a napkin.
"I forgot to ask. Did you make the sale out there?"
"Nah, she was just looking."
"Maybe next time."
He pops a piece of pita and hummus in his mouth. Staring me down as he chews silently. I break the stare and look down at my plate.
"What time did you finally get the car?" he asks.
"It took forever. Not until about three."
"And then you went home and cooked all of this?"
"I like to cook," I say a little too defensively. This conversation reminding me way too much of Bill.
"You should like it." I pop my head back up. Is that a jab at my size?
He stares at my boobs for a second then up to my face.
"You're good at it."
Oh, he's trying to be nice.
"To be fair you'd probably like almost anything home cooked right about now."
His face hardens.
"You need to learn how to take a compliment."
"I was just–"
"Take the compliment."
"Okay," I agree quietly.
Savannah wiggles the knob to the storeroom and pops her head inside.
"Sorry to interrupt this cute little picnic you've got going on in here, but I've got a group of bikers out there and could use a hand. Stone, you coming?"
"Coming."
"Sounds like you could use a hand, Savannah," I say. "Let me just clean up and I'll help answer phones."
I can tell that she'd rather I wouldn't. She's been working here at the shop for the last three years. As far as she's concerned this is her territory and she wants me to leave, but what's she going to say to the owner's daughter? No?
"Suit yourself."
Bitch.
I take one last bite of pita and finish cleaning up our impromptu dinner. When I return to the front, I go behind the counter and work the phones like I used to every summer, before I became a full-time nurse.
Part of the reason I offered to help out tonight is because this is around the time that we get most of our service calls to the shop. People get off of work and want to bring their bikes in or check on what's happening with their repair. The other reason why I'm offering to help is not as gracious. I just don't want to leave Stone alone with Savannah. I know it makes zero sense. He's going to be working here every day and so is she. They will be alone a lot, but I guess a part of me wants to put it off as long as humanly possible.
The question is why.
I don't even like him.
* * *
Nineteen
TINY
The air is thick with the testosterone.
Our showroom is full of bikers.
The Pennsylvania chapter of The Chosen Riders. They've been longtime customers of the shop, and it's a tradition in their club to buy a new bike for members on their ten year anniversary.
Savannah is working the room like a pro. Making sure to smile and play up her best asset (her cleavage), while Stone stands on the other side of the room watching them like a hawk. His face shows zero emotion, but his body seems as if it's stiff as a board. Maybe he doesn't like bikers or maybe he doesn't like people in general.
The same woman who was in the store when I first arrived comes over to me at the counter while keeping a close eye on Stone. I thought she had left earlier but I guess she didn't. Funny how he seems to have the same effect on women of all ages. They can't keep their eyes off of him. At least it seems as if she can't.
"Hi, can I help you?"
"The sales guy over there. Is he new here?"
"Yes, why do you ask?" Already having an idea of why she's inquiring.
"Does he do repairs?
"Actually, I'm not sure."
"I have a bike at my house that I can't get started. There's no way I'm going to be able to get it here. My old man is on a cross country haul and won't be back for a couple of weeks."
"Oh. Well I can put in a request with the service team to give you a call tomorrow and set something up."
"Why don't we ask the new guy if he'd be up for it first."
This clearly isn't just about a repair.
"Um, I'll ask him," I say reluctantly. "Stone, can you come over here a minute please?"
Stone walks over with a very serious look on his face. Like he's got a million problems. He's not going to be able to sell diddly squat with that miserable facial expression of his. I'll have to talk to him about it later. Give him some tips. Not because I want to, but if he's going to be working here, then I can't have him sabotaging sales. The income from this shop is how my father pays the bills.
"What's
up."
"Um, Mrs.–"
"Miss Morris." She makes sure to correct me, although I'm pretty sure she already said that she has an "old man" at home.
"Sorry...Miss Morris is interested in a repair for her bike. Do you do them?"
"Not here."
"But you could take a look at a bike somewhere else?" she asks with hungry eyes.
"Guess so. Where is it?"
"My house. Not too far."
I have to look away for a second. This Miss Morris is so blatantly obvious with her agenda, that I'm embarrassed for her, even though there seems to be no shame in her game. And maybe I'm totally off base. I mean she is a good looking woman, and Stone did just get of prison. Maybe he would totally be into a meaningless romp with her. Maybe I'm giving him too much credit in thinking that he wouldn't be interested in someone as embarrassing as this.
"I can't get the bike here, so I need someone to come and take a look at it. It's probably the engine. The thing has been sputtering for a while now."
"Write down your information, and I'll set something up with you in the next couple of days. Probably over next weekend."
Horny Miss Morris smiles as if she's hit the jackpot.
"That would be fantastic."
After she leaves the shop, I can't help but say something.
"So...am I mistaken or did you just make a date to go sleep with that woman?"
"You got all of that from that conversation?"
"Her husband is away." I move my hands casually about as I make my point. "Her engine needs fixing. It can only be done at her house. Hello?" I ball my hand in a fist and mockingly knock on the countertop. "Is anybody home? She doesn't need a bike fixed. She wants to get laid."
"She might but that's her business not mine."
"So, are you saying that you aren't going to sleep with her?"
"You think I will?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."
"You think because I just got of prison that I should sleep with the first warm and willing pussy that comes my way?"
Ewww.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
"Are you angry with the entire world or just me?"
"I'm not angry with anyone, especially you. You just fed me a bomb ass dinner."
He even pays compliments in a unique way.
With a poker straight face.
Expressionless.
Hard but not heartless.
Heaven help me, but it makes me smile. Unfortunately, the small moment between us is interrupted when we both turn our heads at the sudden outburst of laughter across the room.
"Come here a minute, Stone, would you?" Savannah requests across the room in a saccharin sweet voice.
While Stone tends to Savannah's summons, one of the Chosen Riders comes over to the counter toward me. A younger member named Jake also known as Crazy Horse. He's considered a legacy in the club. Both his father and grandfather were members, which was part of the reason why he had such an infamous reputation in high school. He was a few years older than me, but I remember kids parting like the Red Sea when he would walk down the halls. Myself included.
The few times that we've run into each other as adults he's been sort of flirty, but he's never actually asked me out. I don't think he's ever been seriously interested in me. He's always dated much hotter girls than me. With me he's just playing around.
Luckily, I've always been smart enough to know the difference.
* * *
Twenty
TINY
"Nice to see you again, Tiny."
I notice two missing front teeth when Jake grins at me, and it makes him look kind of trashy. He should really see about getting that fixed. From what I've heard, Chosen Riders make enough money to afford decent dental insurance.
"Hi, Jake."
He leans into the counter.
I try not to stare at the gaping hole in his smile.
"You're looking extra hot in those jeans today."
Oh, good grief. Could he be any less original?
"Thanks, Jake."
I can feel an unwavering glare from across the room. It's Stone, and he's walking over toward us with the same rigid look on his face that he's been wearing all day.
"You all right?" he asks me while looking straight down Jake's throat.
"I'm good," I say in a placating tone.
Frankly I'm a little shocked by his...I'm not sure how to explain his dominant behavior? Maybe he's taking his new job super seriously. Thinking that he's actually security in here. Another thing on my list to talk to him about. He'll scare away the clientele with that attitude. Not everyone that comes in here to buy a bike is going to be a horny, middle-aged woman looking to find her own personal Magic Mike.
"Why wouldn't Tiny be all right, new guy?" Jake questions. Offended by Stone's tone. "She's here talking to me."
Stone's posture stiffens.
Even stiffer than it was if that's even humanly possible.
"Ariana is on phones tonight, not sales." It doesn't get past me that he stresses the pronunciation of my first name as a direct affront to Jake's use of my nickname. "You want to buy something, you talk to Savannah. You want to shoot the shit, you call Ariana on her off time."
This is not good.
We're in a room full of Chosen Riders and Jake of all people is the wrong person to get confrontational with. Another part of his legend is that he's known for being hotheaded. Hence the nickname, Crazy Horse. I heard that one time he turned someone's car completely over on its side with his bare hands just because it had Florida plates. Evidently, he had some sort of bad bar fight in Florida that involved getting tasered by an off duty Florida State Trooper, and now he's blaming the whole entire state for it.
"The fuck you say?" Jake puffs his chest out.
Then about seven heads turn our direction. All featuring varying degrees of scowls across them. All wearing Chosen Rider cuts.
"Jake, he didn't mean–"
Stone places his hand on my forearm. Resting it there for a moment. Essentially shushing me.
"I think you heard every word I said," he says to Jake. "Keep it the fuck moving. This is a place of business. Not a bar."
It's so quiet in the shop you can hear a pin drop.
"Is this disrespectful cocksucker your old man, Tiny?" Jake asks. Spittle practically flying out of his mouth, as he asks his question with a mouth full of missing teeth and fury.
I need to be really careful here. However I decide to answer Jake and the other seven Chosen Riders who are listening to this exchange is going to determine whether or not there's about to be a bloodbath in my father's shop.
If I tell the truth and tell Jake that Stone is nothing to me, Jake is probably going to hurt Stone and I cannot have that. My father would have a hissy fit and like it or not, Stone is a guest in my home. So maybe if I lie and say yes, then the riders will walk away out of respect for me or at least for my father. He's been a longtime friend of the club.
"Yes, he–"
"It doesn't fucking matter who I am," Stone replies before I can lie. I watch as Stone's eyes grow an icier gray color. The angrier he grows the more lethal looking he gets. Like a lone wolf. A lone sexy wolf.
Before I can do or say anything to diffuse the situation, Savannah suddenly bolts over and physically plants herself and those double D's of hers in between Stone and Jake. Something I should have done ten seconds ago myself. This heifer is always beating me to the punch.
"Come on, boys. This is supposed to be a ten year celebration for Max. Let's focus our energies on picking him out the baddest ass bike in the shop. I've got a bottle of tequila in the back once the paperwork is signed."
Savannah splays her palm on Jakes chest. "Because of the break ins around here lately, Stone's been helping out with security. He's just taking his new job a little too seriously. He doesn't realize that we're the safest that we'll ever be with you boys in here."
Sa
vannah laughs nervously. Making sure to stick her boobs out when she does. I have to give it to her, she knows how to talk to men. Especially these types of men. I hear a couple of "hell yeah you are" and "fucking right" from several of the bikers after Savannah's speech which seems to have calmed the waters.
Jake stares for another long moment at Stone, taps his hand on the counter one time and finally turns to me. "Are you working here tomorrow, Tiny, or at the hospital?"
I've got the feeling that what just transpired between Jake and Stone has just ignited an interest in me that was barely fleeting ten seconds ago. Last thing I need is a damn toothless biker popping up at my job and asking around for me.
"I have to check my schedule. The shifts change around so much."
I just made that up. I actually know my schedule for the next thirty days.
"Your next day off it's me and you." Then he eyeballs Stone. "And it would probably be best if you leave your new bodyguard here at home. Watch your back, fucker."
Stone responds with a chilling smirk that makes my insides rattle.
"Likewise."
* * *
Twenty-One
STONE
MARCH
I'm not one of those people that can run for the sake of running. I have to have a purpose. That's why three times a week, I make sure to run with a destination in mind. Today I'm running to a juice bar that's about a mile's run from the house. The angry dude who works the juicer is fixing me a carrot and spinach juice bomb. Some overpriced shit that's supposed to help me keep my energy levels up.
I'm patiently waiting for my drink and playing on my phone when someone taps me on my shoulder. I'm pissed when I realize who it is. Not just because I don't want to talk to this motherfucker, but because I should have seen this pirate in a three piece suit coming a mile away.
Broken By A King Page 8
