F-Bomb (The Bear Bottom Guardians MC Book 9)

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F-Bomb (The Bear Bottom Guardians MC Book 9) Page 10

by Lani Lynn Vale


  Knowing better than anyone seeing as my early home life had been quite filled with bruised faces, I urged her to put it back on her face.

  Ice was best.

  Ice was always best.

  Ice made the difference between being able to see in the morning, and not.

  “Thank you,” she smiled up at me.

  “Slate!”

  I turned to find Hoax, who was a few spots down and across the table from Harleigh, gesturing me over with a tilt of his chin.

  “Come sit down and eat, man,” he ordered.

  I gritted my teeth and left Harleigh, making my way around the table and into the corner of the room.

  The spot was both bad and good.

  It was bad because I was pinned in and wouldn’t be able to move if I absolutely needed to—at least not quickly anyway.

  It was good because my back was to the wall, and nobody would be sneaking up behind me to do things that I didn’t want them to do.

  Though, I had to keep telling myself that I was no longer in prison, the instincts to always protect myself and watch my back were there. They were never leaving, either.

  “Thanks,” I muttered to Hoax. “This your girl?”

  His girl was beautiful, blonde, and she had two twin babies sitting in her lap.

  They were cute and chunky.

  They were also spilling beans all down their clothes and onto their mother’s pants.

  “Yeah,” Hoax said as I sat. “This is Pru. The baby closest to you is Sam. The one closest to me is Dean.”

  I nodded at Pru. “Nice to meet you.”

  She winked at me. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I remained silent.

  “He didn’t laugh,” the woman across the table from me said. “I’m surprised.”

  I looked at her more closely and saw the family resemblance rather quickly. She and Pru were definitely sisters.

  Bayou’s wife, Phoebe.

  It had to be.

  “What would I laugh about?” I questioned, my eyes scanning the menu.

  “The fact that they paired Sam and Dean together,” she expounded.

  I frowned and glanced back up at her.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand why that would be funny,” I admitted.

  She frowned, her eyes studying my face.

  “You’ve never watched Supernatural?” she asked in surprise.

  I shrugged. “I’ve been in prison for the better part of ten years. If it’s come on any time since then, then I wouldn’t have had a chance to watch it.”

  She blew out a breath. “Oh.”

  “You should watch it,” Pru piped in. “It’s funny. Though, at the time we didn’t name our children after the show’s two main characters. We named them after my father and Hoax’s father.”

  I nodded as I flipped the page of the menu.

  “Got it.”

  “Slate,” Harleigh called, making my head jerk up. “What are you getting?”

  I blinked. “I don’t know yet. I was leaning toward the fajitas.”

  Her grin was wicked when she said, “Can we get the fajitas for two? I don’t eat that much, and my family already ordered their food. I have no one to pair up with.”

  I shrugged. “That’s fine with me.”

  “I want the trio, shrimp, chicken, and beef,” she said. “Is that okay?”

  “I’m allergic to shrimp,” I admitted. “That won’t work for me.”

  She frowned. “Okay, then chicken and beef.”

  I nodded once.

  And when the waitress finally made her way back to us, getting not only our drink order but our food as well, I ordered for the two of us. And since Harleigh was once again in conversation with her brother, I’d done it out of habit. I’d gotten her drink choices earlier in the evening thanks to being forced to spend time there waiting to be released from the crime scene.

  “Wow, y’all act like y’all have been married for years,” Phoebe teased.

  I glanced at her as I was handing the menus to the waitress.

  “We had a lot of time together to learn each other’s likes and dislikes this afternoon,” I admitted.

  Phoebe’s lips twitched. “That’s nice.”

  I snorted. “If you say so. I would’ve much rather spent it at the bakery or at home. Murder’s not my favorite thing in the world.”

  Phoebe’s eyes went soft. “No, I imagine it’s not. You used to be a cop?”

  I nodded.

  “What did you used to do? Were you specialized? A detective or anything?” she asked as she reached for a chip.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hoax reach for a chip, too.

  I waited until he’d grabbed his before reaching for my own.

  “Yes, a detective,” I answered. “At least for about a year before I was sent to prison.”

  “Did you hear that there was an almost riot today?” Bayou asked.

  My brows went up.

  “No shit?” I asked.

  “The junior warden dealt fairly well with it, but let’s just say he’s changed for life.” Bayou snickered.

  My curiosity was officially caught.

  “What happened?” I questioned, reaching for another chip.

  When I looked up, it was to find Harleigh staring at me.

  My brows went up, and I looked at her questioningly.

  She shrugged and looked away, but not before a slight blush stained her cheeks red.

  “…thought he would be smart and go ahead and bring them in. Only, when he did, he turned his back on…” Bayou was saying.

  Except, I was no longer interested. I was staring at Harleigh who was trying extremely hard not to return her stare to me.

  And that was exactly how it went for the rest of dinner.

  I mainly stayed to myself, listening to everyone around me talk, and tried to keep my gaze off of Harleigh. Though, mainly I did that because each time I looked at her, her brother would catch me looking and narrow his eyes.

  I caught her looking at me quite a few times, grinning each time that she did.

  She’d turn her cute glare on me, and I’d go back to whatever imaginary conversation I was having.

  And by the end of the night, I was even more unsure of what I should or shouldn’t be doing when it came to Harleigh Belle Tremaine.

  I did know one thing, though, and that was that a starving man could only hold out for so long. Place something like Harleigh, who was a feast, in front of him and well, let’s just say that there would come a time when even the most well behaved of men would break.

  And I wasn’t well behaved.

  Chapter 9

  If you unplug the wi-fi box for one second, the whole house acts like they are about to die.

  -Harleigh to her mother

  Harleigh

  It was hours later, I was dead asleep in the hammock when I felt something light touch me on my cheek.

  My heart went from soothing and relaxed to ‘I’m about to die’ in about two seconds flat.

  But before I could totally freak out and fall on my face seeing as I was in a hammock, strong arms caught me before I could so much as make a face dive for the grass underneath me.

  “Steady,” Slate’s slow, melodic voice murmured.

  I instantly calmed.

  It wasn’t due to his words or anything, it was due to it just being him.

  Oh, boy. I was such a goner.

  “Sorry,” I muttered darkly. “I tried to sleep in my room, but I couldn’t do it. It was too dark, and I kept replaying that woman’s head blowing apart and the splatter and gore hitting the wall behind her.”

  Not to mention the other stuff I saw in the dark when I couldn’t force my brain to turn off.

  To stop thinking about that night.

  “It’s fine,” he said, letting me go almost hesitantly. “I just wanted to wake you up before you got struck by lightning or something.”

  Slate’
s lips were tipped up at the edges when I finally turned to study him.

  Standing up, I stretched my arms up high over my head and said, “Being struck by lightning is like one in a million.”

  “Yet you had one in the same room as you today,” he pointed out. “And he’s married to a woman that has also been struck by lightning. I love Zee and Jubilee, by the way.”

  “That was what those scars were?” I asked incredulously.

  He nodded.

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s…”

  A boom of thunder had me nearly jumping out of my skin, and all of a sudden, the man at my side found his arm full of a hundred and ten pounds of scared Tremaine.

  That was me, Harleigh Tremaine, scared of all things scary.

  He chuckled and led me away.

  “You really shouldn’t be sleeping out here in the dark, either,” he said as he began to lead me around the hammock.

  I shrugged. “I can’t fall asleep inside. It’s nearly impossible.”

  “Is it the light or is it the openness?” he asked curiously.

  “Both,” I admitted, not questioning why he sort of knew that there was a reason that I slept outside.

  My dad had a big mouth.

  Another boom of thunder had me jumping hard.

  “Dre’s not there,” I murmured. “He’s at work. Usually I find an easier time falling asleep when he’s there. But that’s for about an hour, max. I don’t know. I really don’t. I just…don’t sleep. Anywhere but right there.”

  I pointed behind me where the hammock lay, and he made a sound in his throat that sounded suspiciously like ‘fuck.’

  Only, I didn’t ask him anymore on it.

  I also didn’t consider the fact that this was a bad idea.

  “Do you want to sit with me?” I blurted.

  He frowned, and I somehow wished that the streetlamp over our heads and the quickly darkening night had blocked his face more. I didn’t want to see the denial there.

  “Umm,” he hesitated.

  Another boom of thunder had me jumping, and my heart started to pound. Now due to the fact that the thunder was getting louder, and the lightning that streaked across the sky felt like it was close.

  I don’t know if he saw the worry there, or if he was that in tune with me, but he squeezed my arm.

  “Come with me back to my place to get my phone,” he suggested. “I’m waiting for a call from Izzy about what time I’m supposed to be watching her kids in the morning. She said she’d talk with Rome about it and call me back.”

  I easily turned directions and went back to his house with him, not holding his hand but feeling our fingers brush every now and then.

  When he walked beside me, I felt safe and protected.

  Normally, someone with Slate’s height and build that close to me, it’d bring back a sort of awareness of my nightmares. Of the man that had nearly taken from me what I wasn’t willing to give.

  Ever.

  Obviously, I still hadn’t recovered from that night. However, I could pretend that I had it together.

  But with Slate? I didn’t have to pretend. I felt normal. Felt like I was supposed to feel. Felt like I was a girl that was slowly falling for a boy.

  Something I hadn’t felt since that night.

  We took the steps up to his porch, and he held the door open for me to head in front of him.

  My eyelids blinked when the lights seared my retinas, and slowly I took in the room in front of me.

  “Wow,” I said softly, taking it all in. “This place is gorgeous.”

  He grunted out a ‘thanks’ and kept walking.

  I walked to the kitchen and stood there, looking at the countertops, the backsplash, and the black appliances.

  “I like that you didn’t go with stainless steel,” I said.

  Slate, who’d disappeared somewhere into the back of his house, came back with his phone in his hand.

  It was on and he was flicking through what looked to be messages.

  “Vanessa wanted all stainless-steel appliances,” he murmured. “She didn’t give one single shit about the rest of the house, but then on the day that I’d already ordered the black appliances, she just popped up and said that ‘stainless steel was the best and we should have the best.’” He rolled his eyes. “Each time I look at the black appliances I’m reminded of the fight we had about them.”

  I felt my stomach sink.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  He shrugged. “It is what it is,” he admitted. “Do you want a drink or something?”

  I blinked sleepily at the kitchen and then felt myself nodding.

  I shouldn’t stay.

  I should go back home.

  Only, I found myself delaying.

  I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay here, with this man, and do things I shouldn’t be doing.

  Not that I shouldn’t be ‘doing’ Slate, but shit, the man was my neighbor. He loved to give me shit. He worked with my father. Doing anything with him, and it not working out, would make everything about this situation a pain in the ass.

  Only…my body wanted him.

  I wanted him.

  Who was I to deny myself something it wanted as badly as I did Slate?

  Experiencing the feelings that I hadn’t felt in so long felt refreshing. Like I was a functioning woman once again.

  I’d been frozen since the night I’d had everything almost ripped away from me.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I swallowed hard, looked at his kitchen one more time, then turned on my heel.

  I didn’t want to leave his house.

  It felt like a place that I could be safe in.

  Why, I didn’t know.

  But I wanted to stay.

  I also wanted him to wrap me up in his arms, pull me into his hard body, and do things to me that I’d only ever dreamed about someone doing.

  He looked at me curiously when I brushed past him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

  Then, as if the universe knew that I was being forced out of his house, the bottom opened up in the sky and rain started to pour out in great sheets.

  The force of which the rain hit the tin roof of the house we were standing in was honestly quite startling.

  Then a boom of thunder sounded, followed by multiple streaks of lightning.

  Over and over again, the power of Mother Nature sounded around us.

  “Well.” He stopped at the front window. “Guess we can hang out here…or on the porch. What do you want to do?”

  I sensed that this was a test of some sort.

  If I chose one, I’d be making a decision. One that was the right one, and one that was the wrong one.

  I licked my lips and said, “I like the porch.”

  His mouth kicked up at the corner. “Me, too. Always have.”

  I felt pleasure rocket through me at knowing he liked the same things I did. I liked it even more that I got that smile aimed at me.

  Slate never smiled.

  A smirk here and there, sure. But a smile? No.

  A half of one? Because of something that I said? That felt like I’d won the lottery.

  He held up his finger for me to wait, then walked to the kitchen.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” he pushed.

  I hesitated. “Do you have coffee?”

  He gestured to a coffeemaker on the counter.

  A Keurig.

  “My sister got me this fancy one. If you can figure out how to work it, you’re more than welcome to coffee,” he said. “Honestly, I’m not sure what’s wrong with the old way. It was a rare day that I was ever satisfied with just one cup of coffee. So having a maker that only makes one at a time, and you have to litter the world with these plastic little cups each time you want one, seems absolutely silly to me.”

  I grinned, understanding where he was coming from.

  “But for me,”
I said as I walked to the coffeemaker and lifted the reservoir out of the holder and taking it over to the sink. “Who only usually drinks one at a time, hours apart, it makes perfect sense. Though, I use the reusable little cups. I don’t ‘litter the world.’”

  His mouth twitched.

  “Would you make me one, too?” he asked. “Are you hungry?”

  I thought about that for a second as I went about setting his machine up and getting us both a cup of coffee.

  “Do you have anything sweet?” I asked.

  He snorted and walked to a container he had on the counter next to the fridge.

  When he came back, he opened the lid showing me a peek, and I literally felt like I had died and gone to heaven.

  “Oh, man,” I said, looking at the motherload of sweets. “I’m going to be so fat tomorrow.”

  He scoffed. “A little padding never hurt a woman.”

  I had a feeling he really believed that, too.

  Grinning, I reached for a cookie that had a slice of an apple on top of it.

  “Can we bring the whole thing?” I asked as I looked at the cookie I had in my hand, then back at the blueberry muffin.

  “Sure,” he said. “But don’t eat my chocolate thingies. I never get many of them.”

  “Thingies?” I teased as I switched my cup for his underneath the coffee pot. “Is that a formal name for those?”

  His lips twitched. “I’ve always called them thingies. When I was younger, I couldn’t pronounce the name, so thingies it was.”

  I gestured at his coffee. “Want anything in that?”

  He walked to the fridge and pulled out milk. “No, do you?”

  I held my hand out for the milk. “I need sugar, too.”

  He walked to a canister on the island and picked it up, bringing it to me.

  His palm wrapped nearly all the way around it, and I felt things inside of me tighten as I thought about how his hand would look wrapped around my thigh.

  “Spoon?” I asked.

  He touched my hip with his fingers, and I felt electricity jolt through me at the unexpected touch.

  I backed away slowly, and his hand reached around my front and captured the cabinet pull that I’d been inadvertently leaning against.

  “Ohh, I like those forks,” I said as I inspected the black silverware.

  “Me, too,” he said. “I never got to use them before I went inside.”

 

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