Ultimate Alphas: Bad Boys and Good Lovers (The Naughty List Romance Bundles)

by Synthia St. Claire

  “I understand a lot better now Kyle’s wanting to have a new identity. To be someone who isn’t the weak, sad person you think of yourself as.” I curled up next to Spider on his couch, a glass of wine in my hand. “He had so much responsibility as a kid. I knew at the time it must be hard on him, but I was too young to really understand just how hard. Now it makes sense why he would want to leave Kyle behind, to become Gonzo instead.”

  “It’s true, when you’re patched, you take on a new identity, a new family,” he nodded. “But you don’t entirely lose the old one, either. Gonzo was still Kyle. In time, he would have come back to you. I’m sure of it.” He took the glass from me and drank, then handed it back to me. “It’s funny, he continued. “You tried on a new identity, too. Did you want to leave Tallie behind when you became Tina?”

  “I suppose I did, in a way,” I conceded. “When Kyle died, all of a sudden I felt for the first time how weak, how helpless I was. I couldn’t stop anyone from dying: my brother, my mom, my dad. Maybe in a way, wanting to take on a new identity, I was hoping I could leave all that behind. Like you said, though, we never really leave any of our past behind. We just learn to deal with it, if we’re lucky.”

  Spider smiled at me, a look of frank admiration on his face. “See there. Gonz always said how crazy smart you were. Damn, he was right. You’re pretty impressive, Tallie girl.”

  “So, if I’m so smart,” I asked, “what about you? Conrad’s who you were. Spider’s who you are. Who you choose to be. But they’re both in there, right?” Spider looked at me, and nodded. “Yes, I think they both are.”

  I returned his gaze steadily. “I want to get to know them both.”

  “You will, baby,” he nodded, leaning in to kiss me. “You will.”

  That night, we made love again, and as we drifted off to sleep, I thought about how everything had seemed to come full circle. I was back home, in Crystal Spring. I was Tallie again. And I was ready to accept the past and step into my future, with the identity I would treasure more than anything:

  Spider Daniels’ old lady.

  END BOOK ONE

  ***

  Hi, readers! Did you enjoy this steamy story about Spider and Tallie? There are two more stories in the Fugitives MC series, just waiting for you to dive in! Each one is a completely stand-alone story, but they all fit together as separate pieces in the adventure! Get ready for a wild ride!

  Fugitives MC: Prospect

  Fugitives MC: Reckoning

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  ***

  I Already Love You

  By Harmony Raines

  Jennifer placed her cup down on the table, and went to the front door. The knock had taken her by surprise. A couple of weeks ago it seemed there was always someone visiting, offering her their condolences. Thankfully, as time went by the callers grew less and less. It might sound ungrateful, but to Jennifer, it was a blessing. Only now could she finally begin to come to terms with her brother’s death.

  Almost deciding to ignore the intrusion, on the second polite knock she changed her mind.

  “Hi, can I help you?” Jennifer asked, instantly regretting her decision to open the door on finding the caller was no one she knew. She was in no mood for a sales man, even one this devastatingly handsome.

  “Hello Jennifer,” he said, his voice carried a familiarity she found unnerving, because she was certain if she had met this man before, she would not have done him the discredit of forgetting his face.

  “I’m sorry; I don’t think I know you.” She was on her guard; perhaps he was aware of her brother’s death and had come to con her in some way. Although she couldn’t see how. Still, there were many strange people out there, and her brother’s death had made the local news.

  The headlines still haunted her dreams, “Local hero killed by an IED while on patrol”.

  “Yes. Well no.” He took a breath. “At least, I feel that I know you.” He saw her face go through confusion, to anger, and realised he sounded like a stalker. “I’m sorry. Let me start again. I’m Harry. Harry Townsend, I served with your brother.”

  Her hand shot to her mouth, and tears, the thing she had battled so valiantly to control, slid down her cheeks. “Harry,” she breathed. “Gant wrote me about you, he told me how much you helped him while the two of you were stationed together.”

  “I’m so sorry, about what happened. Your brother was a good man.”

  “Thank you. It’s very kind of you to come in person.” She took a couple of calming breaths and battled to control her tears.

  “I had some of Grant’s personal possessions that I wanted to make sure you received. We had this agreement that if anything happened to either of us, the other would make sure they got returned. The army does its best, but...Anyway, here.”

  He put his hand in the backpack he was carrying, but Jennifer stopped him. “Wait, where are my manners, you’ve come a long way, why don’t you step in, I’ll fix you something to eat and drink.”

  “There’s no need to go to any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, I’d like to talk to you, hear how Grant was, before...”

  Tears took hold again, but she wiped them away, and opened the door wider so he could get his big muscular frame through it. He towered over her, and made her feel small, no mean feat when you were a curvy girl like Jennifer. She had to admit he made her feel more than small; he made her feel something else. An attraction she knew she would have to bury. It seemed inappropriate to have those kind of thoughts towards the man with whom her brother had spent his last days.

  “What can I get you? Tea, coffee, or a nice cold beer, I’m sure there are some left in the fridge.” All she had done for the last few weeks was provide food and drinks for the large number of people whose lives her brother had touched. She was proud of the young man he had grown up to be, but it only made the loss worse.

  “Beer would be great, I came straight from camp, and it’s been a long drive.”

  “How long have you been back?” she asked, opening the fridge door and taking out a nice cold bottle of beer. “Glass?”

  He looked as though he was trying to read her. Should he be civilised, or did she mind if he drank from the bottle? She couldn’t help a smile spreading across her face, although she turned her head to hide it. For a man so obviously comfortable in his own body, and well respected by others according to Grant, he looked nothing short of awkward.

  “Here.” She handed it to him. “Grant said it always tasted better straight from the bottle.”

  “Thanks,” Harry said and took a long drink, and Jennifer tried not to stare as he gulped it down. He was so damn attractive.

  Grant had mentioned Harry often; they bunked together, and by chance had grown up in similar circumstances. Harry had been raised by his grandparents, while Grant had been raised by Jennifer since he was thirteen. Both knew what it was to lose parents. Sadly, they had both now lost Grant too.

  An awkward silence covered them, while Harry held the bottle in both hands, twisting it nervously. Jennifer had the feeling he had something he wanted to say, but didn’t know where to start. A sudden panic swept over her, something was wrong. Had there been something about Grant’s death that she hadn’t been told?

  She tried to stem the rising panic inside her, an emotion she had been battling every day since the men in uniform knocked on he
r door to tell her the devastating news about her brother. That was all her memory allowed her to remember, men in uniform. They had become faceless people, who haunted her dreams every night. They hunted her, trying to tell her the news she didn’t want to hear, all the time she called for Grant, needing to find him, to prove the uniforms wrong.

  “Are you OK Jennifer? You look a little pale.” Harry had taken a step towards her, concern etched deeply on his face, but his reservations stopped him from reaching an arm out and touching her.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, it still hits me sometimes. You know. I thought it would get easier, I mean it’s not like I haven’t been through this before...”

  She put her face in her hands, suddenly feeling stupid and immature to be crying in front of this complete stranger. He had come a long way to see her, and here she was blubbing like a child.

  Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat and tried to put on a bright smile. When she looked up, she was stunned to see the look of pure anguish on his face. She felt awful, he was a hardened war veteran, and the last thing he needed was a softhearted woman being all emotional in front of him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. “Please, tell me what you came here for.”

  His head jerked up as though she had slapped him. “Of course, I don’t want to hold you up. Let me find it.”

  Opening the backpack, he pulled out an envelope. First, he took out a locket, one she recognised instantly. It had been their mother’s, and although it should have gone to Jennifer, she had insisted he wore it. When his body had been returned to her, it was not there, or with any of his personal stuff. She had assumed it had been lost.

  “He asked me to give it back to you personally if anything happened. Wanted me to tell you to wear it, said otherwise you would bury it with him, and he didn’t want that.”

  Harry stepped forward to hand it to her. Jennifer couldn’t speak, she had thought it lost, and now here it was, a memento of both her mother and brother. She had wished it would give him luck. That their mom would somehow watch over him and keep him safe. Instead, he had gone to join their parents in heaven, or wherever else you went when you died. Sometimes Jennifer had trouble believing there was anything other than the sadness and loneliness of loss.

  “I thought he would be safe, you know?” she said tearfully looking up at Harry.

  “I know. I am so sorry.” He moved closer to her, and all she wanted to do was fall into his arms, for him to hold her tight against his hard chest. She had forgotten what it was like to have someone hold you, to love you. Maybe that was the attraction she had to him, he was alive, a real breathing human being.

  She lifted her arms, trying to put the locket on, but struggled with the clasp. Harry came into her personal space, large and warm, and there. She closed her eyes while he took the locket in his large hands and easily did the tiny clasp up. His fingers so much more dexterous than their size let on. How she would love to feel them on her skin. To feel sensation again, anything to take away the numb feeling that blanketed her.

  Jennifer stroked the locket with her fingers, remembering the time she had given it to Grant, the smile on his face, his eyes bright, full of adventure. It had been the day he had completed his training, she had gone to the parade, heart full of pride that her little brother had accomplished his dream. It had made all the hard work worthwhile.

  Watching him marching in his uniform made all the extra shifts she had worked to support them both have some meaning.

  “There’s something else,” Harry said, going back to the kitchen table where he had set the envelope down. He picked the whole thing up, and gave it to Jennifer, holding on to it a little too long when she went to take it from him.

  “What is it?” she asked, putting her hand in the envelope as if a snake was going to jump out at her. Tentatively she pulled out a bundle of papers. Instantly she knew what they were. “He kept them all.”

  “Yeah,” Harry said. “When we had some down time he would get them out and reread them. He liked to remember home, and you.”

  She opened one up, and read the first line. Smiling she remembered putting the words down on the paper for him. At first, she had been self conscious, but soon she had rambled on about her boring life. This was one was about Mrs O’Connor, and the chocolate brownie episode. Mrs O’Connor had made them for the local book club meeting, which Jennifer attended. Only they had salt instead of sugar in them.

  Jennifer had described in much detail the expressions on the faces of the other ladies. No one having the heart to tell Mrs O’Connor what she had done. The most hilarious lines were devoted to the various ways they stopped Mrs O’Connor eating them herself. To this day, they had kept the secret from her, although every time she did baking for the book club, a brave volunteer was always chosen to sample her food.

  For the first time in weeks, she found herself smiling. When she looked up, Harry had a faint smile on his face too. “That’s better,” he said. “Grant wouldn’t want you to sit about moping over him. He loved his job, and knew the risks.”

  “I miss him so much; I miss writing to him, telling him things I would never tell anyone else.”

  “I know he looked forward to receiving them. He would open your letters when we were in our bunks, and read them aloud.”

  Jennifer looked up quickly, her face flushing rosy pink. “He didn’t did he? Oh, that is so embarrassing. You must think I’m the village idiot, I tried so hard to be funny in them, to keep his spirits up.”

  “It worked, he always smiled about the people he knew from back home.”

  “I could never tell, his letters were always so down to earth. He’d tell me about the weather, and the food. Who had been injured, nothing about what you got up to there. I guess writing was never his thing, so his letters were never very long. He did mention you though, said you were the best buddy he had ever had.”

  Harry shifted nervously. “He was a good friend. I miss him.” He cleared his throat, knocking the emotion from his voice. “I wish I could have made it back for the funeral.”

  “Do you want to walk down and see his grave?” Jennifer asked.

  “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll grab my coat.” She hesitated, and turned back to him. “Unless you want to go alone. I don’t want to force myself on you...I mean my company.”

  She was sure the colour in his cheeks changed, hard to tell when he had such a tan from the desert sun. Instantly she dismissed it, only in her imagination could a man such as Harry be interested in her romantically.

  “I would enjoy your company. Thanks.”

  Smiling, Jennifer went to fetch her coat and bag, finding an urge to go to her bedroom and check her reflection in the mirror before she went back to him. Luckily she looked presentable, the tears had not made her mascara run, so no panda eyes. She caught herself feeling guilty for even caring what she looked like, and then thought of Harry’s words. “No moping,” she repeated to herself.

  “OK. Ready,” she said, coming back into the kitchen. He had finished his beer and stood waiting for her, leaning easily against the countertop. Once again, her body betrayed her, heat creeping from the pit of her stomach until it covered her body.

  Clearing her throat, and trying to compose herself, she spoke, hoping her voice sounded normal. “It’s not too far, shall we walk?” Immediately Jennifer regretted asking.

  Although not too far, it was a twenty minute walk. What would they find to talk about? She knew nothing about him, nor he about her. This might be awkward, but it was too late now.

  “Sure. It’s been a long drive, so I have no desire to get back in my car. A walk would be lovely.”

  He headed for the front door, and Jennifer followed behind, picking her keys up on the way out. It would be fine, they had Grant in common, and it would be good to talk about him with someone who really knew him.

  Only they didn’t talk about Grant. Harry had listened to every word Jennifer had ever written to her brother
, so he seemed to be intimately in tune with the neighbourhood. He asked many questions as they walked, getting Jennifer to point out where various people lived.

  “So that’s the infamous Peter Talley?” Harry asked, bending his head slightly to whisper in Jennifer's ear, something she found hugely erotic. His breath tickling her hair, his lips so close to her skin, sent shivers down her spine, and lower.

  Pulling herself together, she stifled a giggle as they walked up to, and then past, the local butcher. “Oh, he didn’t read that one to you.”

  “He read all of them to me. Twice over at least. But that particular morsel of gossip left us put off our meat for a day or so. I cannot believe he got away with it.”

  “It was a cover up, of course. Who knows how far the conspiracy went.”

  He laughed. “Small towns, full of mystery and deceit.”

  “If only you knew.” She smiled up at him, for a moment they could be any young couple out for a walk. Then her humour passed, because they weren’t. He was a young fit soldier, who was here to pay his respects to her dead brother. Even if that were not the case, he would never be interested in a curvy woman like her. Harry was the kind of guy women swooned over. His easy humour only enhanced his good looks, and that incredible smile of his was enough to make any woman’s heart skip a beat.

  Changing the subject, she said, “You know so much about me. Why don’t you tell me some of your secrets?” She blushed again. “Sorry, that sounded better in my head. Tell me where you come from?”

  “I come from the city. Faceless people, all rushing here and there, too busy even to stop and smile half the time. That’s what I loved so much about you...you’re letters. You live in a real community.”

  She figured he had unintentionally slipped up as he spoke. However, that did not stop her stomach doing small flips that made her whole body tingle. “Yes, they’ve been so supportive. However, it still doesn’t make up for losing my whole family. That is some run of bad luck.”