His Old Lady (Patches: Tarkio MC Book 2)

by Debra Kayn

  Sure, she had the general idea, and she'd watched Cal and Celia run the lounge. If the bar started out small, she had confidence, she could grow with the customer base.

  But the real question was if she could handle being around Curley.

  Especially if he was nice to her like today.

  At night when she had time to think, she struggled with how quickly she'd agreed to work with him. When if she'd turned him down, Curley would've had to let her leave their relationship. Secretly, she knew the reason why she'd accepted the job offer.

  She only hoped she wouldn't grow to regret it.

  She gripped the steering wheel and turned. It would be like him to act polite to her and then flip his attitude when she got back with burgers for everyone. It killed her to have to listen to him when he got in one of his moods, and she was around Tarkio members.

  Knowing what the other men, and even the women, would think if she stood up and went against whatever Curley wanted, she always ended up more hurt than anything.

  When she got hurt, she got mad.

  When she got mad, she couldn't control her mouth. And somehow, when she popped off, Curley got horny. Then, she got turned on. It made them both miserable.

  Flipping on her blinker, she turned into Dairy Queen and found a parking spot close to the walk-up windows at the front of the building. Too excited to have an appetite, she ordered enough that each man would have two burgers, and knowing she had to eat something, got a strawberry milkshake she could sip on while she waited.

  The young teenage girls working the counter scurried to get started. Luckily, no other customers were waiting, only an older man sitting at one of the outdoor tables, enjoying a banana split.

  Instead of waiting in her car, she walked to the sidewalk with her drink and peered up and down the street. Missoula was much larger than Superior. People were walking everywhere.

  Others around her age, probably going to the college on the other end of town or out to eat. Though she'd spent her first eight years of her life living in Missoula with Uncle Walker, everything was new to her as an adult.

  The people. The businesses. The atmosphere.

  She walked to the stop sign at the end of the block, enjoying the warmth of the day as she sipped the cold ice cream.

  A car horn blasted behind her. She jerked her head and looked. Two guys inside whistled in her direction. She shook her head in amusement. Their clean-shaven faces and overgrown mullet haircuts amused her. They were probably on summer break from high school and out joyriding.

  Wandering back to the restaurant, she set her milkshake in the car before waiting out front for her order to be called. The girl at the window placed another sack on the counter and disappeared into the back of the building.

  Five minutes later, she had her car loaded with half a dozen sacks and headed back to the warehouse. More determined and hopeful to get through the rest of the day without any conflict, she hurried inside.

  Total chaos met her. Bodies flew around the room. Pieces of lumber clanked as they were dropped.

  Strong arms wrapped around her. She screamed in surprise, dropping a couple of the sacks holding the burgers.

  "Step out, honey." Frank lifted her.

  Her toes scrambled to come into contact with the floor as she found herself taken outside and plopped down against the building. Getting her balance, she set the bags remaining in her hands on the ground and straightened her shirt.

  "What's that all about?" she said.

  "Just a disagreement." Frank lit a cigarette and stayed between her and the door. "They'll be done in a few minutes."

  Remembering all the physical fights that happened within the clubhouse growing up, she walked over to her car and got the cup with the last of her milkshake in it. She returned to Frank, trying to hear what was happening inside the warehouse. Tarkio members were passionate.

  They partied hard. They were loyal to a fault. And sometimes those emotions came out in violence.

  The door swung open. A member burst outside, wild hair circling his head. She stayed back until she recognized Whip, Tracy's brother, and then she called his name.

  Whip swung around, glaring in her direction before his face softened upon seeing her. She approached him, studying the changes in his face over the years. The last time she heard anything about him, he was spending time in prison for murdering the two men who'd killed his parents. Because they were killed inside the house, it should've been self-defense, but Whip was a Tarkio member, and the men were in another motorcycle club. The judge deemed it gang activity.

  "Brat? Is that you?" Whip leaned closer, chuckling. "Well, well, well, look who grew up."

  She threw her arms around him. "It's so good to see you. How have you been?"

  "You know, hanging out in a cell, shooting the shit with other criminals doing time." He pulled back and looked at her again. "Last time I seen you, you had braces."

  She grinned, no longer having a large gap between her front teeth. "Wow, it has been a long time. I spent the night with your sister not long ago and thought I might run into you, but we had a quiet girls' night in with the kids."

  "I stay at the clubhouse. That way, she and Rick have their privacy." He swept back his hair. "Are you living in Missoula? Last I heard you were living with some relative, somewhere else."

  "Yeah, with my Grandma. She passed away, but I'm still living in her house in Superior."

  "Not too far, then." His gaze swept down her body and back up to her face. "We should get together. Hash out old times and catch up."

  "She's mine," barked Curley.

  Faye leaned to the side and found Curley standing at the door. Not wanting to roll her eyes, she looked at Whip and shrugged. "Long story."

  Whip whistled and whispered. "I hadn't heard."

  "It is what it is," she whispered back.

  Picking up the sacks, she walked over to Curley. Without saying a word, she plopped the sacks into his arms and walked inside to see if there was anything to salvage from the burgers she'd dropped. Luckily, no one had stepped on the food, and the burgers were still contained in the sack.

  Curley followed her and took the food out of her hands. "A don't want you hanging out with Whip alone. If you need to talk to him, meet him at the clubhouse, or better yet, tell him to call on the phone."

  She gasped. "Get real."

  "I'm serious." He dipped his chin. "If you don't push him away. I will."

  "He's Tracy's bro..." She squinted, noticing the blood at the corner of his mouth.

  His bottom lip was also swollen. She dropped her gaze to his chest, checking if he was injured anywhere else. The neck of his T-shirt was ripped. The tattoos on his arms hid if he was bruised.

  She swallowed hard. "What did you do?"

  "Who says I did anything?" He walked away from her and set the sacks on what was now a newly constructed bar at the back of the room.

  And, so it started. The first hurdle they got to while working together, and already he'd started a fight.

  She tossed her cup in the garbage can sitting nearby. The others had gone back to work. A few of the guys dove into the burgers and started passing around the food. She gazed at everyone, trying to find who Curley was fighting with. Maybe that way she could figure out what the problem was.

  Chapter 18

  Curley

  Faye stood on the top of the table. Her body stretched as she screwed in the lightbulb in the hanging light. Curley picked at the dry skin at the corner of his fingernail. There were only three days left until he planned to open the bar for business.

  Her breasts strained against her shirt, jiggling with her arm movements. He swallowed a groan. Being around Faye for the last ten days was killing him.

  At least his busted lip and black eye from the two fights he'd had with Hammer and Slick had healed. Eventually, everyone would learn that she belonged to him and keep their thoughts to themselves. Or, better yet, not even think about her.

  Her b
ody was his. If she was going to do anything, it would be with him. Not with some asshole in Tarkio who had an itch to scratch.

  "Curley?"

  Faye came down on the flat of her feet and brushed her hands off on the back of her jeans. Tight jeans, showing off the roundness of her ass.

  "Curley?"

  His chest tightened. He forced his breath through the tightness. He'd had that ass in his hands earlier when she needed a boost up to the lights above the bar.

  His cock remained semi-hard ever since.

  A hand waved in front of his face. "Yoohoo, Curley."

  He blinked, refocusing his vision, and found Jenna, one of Faye's girlfriends, in front of him.

  Jenna grinned as if she knew where his thoughts had been. He grunted. "What?"

  "Jerry wanted me to tell you the phone guy left, and the electrician signed off on the added thingies in the control box on the wall, so anytime you're ready, you can flip them on." Jenna glanced over at Faye. "Also, Faye needs you."

  He snapped his gaze across the room, all his attention going back to Faye. "What's she need?"

  "She's not going to tell you this—so, you didn't hear it from me, okay?" Jenna bit her lip, waiting for him to swear his silence.

  He dipped his chin. "Go on."

  "She locked herself out of her house in her rush to get here and is stressing about how she's going to get back inside without a key, and seeing how it's already ten o'clock, I don't think she needs to be stuck sleeping in her car tonight or breaking a window to get inside." Jenna's forehead wrinkled. "Please, don't tell her I told you. She's embarrassed and feels stupid, and none of us had a key that would work when we met at her house this morning."

  No one could break through the lock that he'd installed when Grandma June had died. He'd made sure that she'd remain safe when alone.

  "I'll take care of it," he said. "Thanks for letting me know."

  Jenna nodded and joined the others who were wiping down all the tables and chairs for extra money before the bar opened.

  He sought out Paco and pulled his keyring out of his pocket, working off the spare key to Faye's house that he kept. "Do me a favor and get a copy of this key for me."

  "Will do." Paco walked toward the backdoor, where the bikers parked.

  Solving one problem, he went to Faye. "All the lights in?"

  "Yeah." She gazed up and widened her eyes before grinning. "All except the men's restroom, but Aaron headed that way with three lightbulbs a few minutes ago."

  "Come with me." He pressed his hand on her lower spine, taking her with him across the room. At the door to the back, he yelled, "Everyone, hands off the lights. I'm turning on the power."

  A cheer echoed in the warehouse turned bar.

  He entered the back room with Faye. The bar wasn't going to offer food at the moment, and all that was required was refrigeration for the drinks, and racks for the bottles. The Tarkio members installed a counter and sink to meet health regulations.

  Everything, but the last decorating details, were done.

  "Stay here." He stepped over to the electrical panel, found the newly added circuit breakers, and flipped all six switches.

  Going by the cheers and shouts in the other room, the lights worked. He grabbed Faye's hand. Not letting her out of the room, he peeked through the crack in the door and shouted for someone to turn off the main lights.

  Once the bar looked like it would when it opened to the public, he swung the door open and brought her out into the main room.

  She gasped, squeezing his hand, and leaning closer to him. "Oh, look. It's awesome."

  The darker atmosphere settled around him. He gazed around the room. A small light hung over each table at Faye's suggestion. She believed the dimness added a little mystery and seduction.

  Apparently, she thought the sexy mood would encourage the men to drink. He'd take her word for it. Far as he knew, being a guy, all it took was a bottle in front of him to want to drink.

  For now, peanuts in a shell and pretzels would be the only thing keeping people around the tables. Next week, a pool table was coming in.

  Faye smiled at him. His pulse raced, and he reached up to capture that radiance when her eyes widened, and she backed up a step before he could touch her. Disappointment filled him.

  She turned away from him and hurried to her friends. He couldn't hear what they spoke about, but their excitement enveloped Faye into their circle.

  He felt like an outsider in his own bar.

  "Hey, Curley. What's the name of the bar?" shouted Frank.

  He looked back to Faye, connecting with her. She too wondered. The last two weeks, trying to get things up and open, so he could keep Faye, he hadn't given any thought to the name of the bar. All the paperwork pertaining to business, he'd used his name.

  He'd done everything for Faye. It was her bar, even though he'd put his money down to gets things started, and Tarkio paid the rent.

  His life was with the club, not running a bar. But he'd done it all to keep her in his life, and for that, it needed a proper name.

  Her emotional eyes, the same color they were when she was eight years old and had begged him to let her stay at his house while he'd taken her to Grandma June, gripped him now, even more powerful than they had back in her childhood.

  "Promise," he said to her, but loud enough for everyone else to hear the name of the bar. "That's the name of the bar."

  Faye's gaze rounded, and she continued looking at him. More confident in his choices, he wouldn't back down. No matter how much she wanted him out of her life, he'd promised to always be there for her, and he would be.

  Someone slapped him on the shoulders, he turned to see who it was and found Priest walking away. When he looked back to Faye, she was gone.

  Pushing through the crowd, sweat broke out on his back. He couldn't tell if the name of the bar pissed her off or not and didn't want her taking off to go back home yet.

  Paco grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Got the key, brother."

  "Thanks." He took both the new one and the spare. "Have you seen Faye?"

  Paco hitched his thumb over his shoulder. "She passed me going toward the door. Roddy's standing by his Harley, watching over everything. She's good."

  He strode across the room and pushed outside, looking around for her. Spotting her sitting on the bumper of her car, her back to the street, he slowed, not knowing what kind of mood he'd find her in.

  She kept her head down when he stopped in front of her. "Change the name."

  He squatted in front of her, needing to see her face. "Of the bar?"

  "Of course, I’m talking about the bar." She straightened without leaving her make-shift seat. "You have to keep throwing it out there that I belong to you, keeping everyone away from me. I had the best time in the last two weeks. All the bikers were nice to me and treated me like I belonged—"

  "You do."

  "No, I don't." She moved to get up, and he put his hands on her knees, stopping her. "They all know we don't have a real relationship, and I'm a joke to you. I'm such a fool for letting myself believe that this job was anything but a way to make me stay under your control."

  He thrummed his thumbs against her legs. "I never do anything unless I'm serious. I want you working here."

  "Really?"

  "Swear on it, Faye."

  "I want to believe that," she whispered.

  "Besides, you're the only one I know who has the talent to run the place."

  Her gaze flickered, and her mouth drooped. "Why did you have to say that and ruin everything?"

  He straightened, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet. "Let's call it a night. We're both dead on our feet, and the bar opens in two days. I'll follow you home."

  "You don't have to."

  "I want to." He opened her car door.

  She held up her finger for him to wait and moved toward the building. "I need to grab my purse."

  He lit a cigarette while he waited. The times
she showed how sensitive she was were the times he wanted her all to himself. Any of the men inside would jump at making her feel better.

  That was his job. Tired of keeping her at a distance, he wanted nothing more than to show her how much he wanted her in his life.

  Faye returned and slid into the driver's seat. He tossed his cigarette butt and shut her door, slapping the top of the vehicle to signal for her to take off, and he'd follow.

  The hour-long trip, only interrupted by four cars going the opposite direction on the interstate, gave him time to clear his head. Faye would need to deal with him every day at the bar.

  What turned out as something for her, he had to admit the decision to hire her had to do more with him, wanting to keep her in his life. But, he wanted more.

  Yet, the closeness lately only beat in the fact that he needed to stay away.

  There was a time the simple thought of taking her and treating her like his woman had sickened him.

  Then, something had changed.

  He wanted her more than anything, and he'd taken his frustration and anger out on her. He hadn't treated her right. He hadn't treated her the way she deserved.

  And, she'd taken everything he'd given her as rejection.

  Nothing was further from the truth.

  Chapter 19

  Faye

  Faye shut off the car. Her hands shook, and until the engine stopped, she hadn't realized her whole body quivered as if exhausted. Highly aware of Curley standing beside his Harley in the driveway, she tried not to look at him.

  Hating that he named the bar Promise, reminding her of all the times he'd promised to never leave her, she sat in the vehicle stripped of all her defenses and too tired to fight him or her damn attraction to him.

  Unable to stop herself from glancing at him, she exited the car. His gaze never left her. Her lips pursed automatically, a mix of anxiety and resistance.

  Her feet stopped working. For the longest moment, she connected with him. He connected with her. All her fear, her vulnerabilities, her heart was naked.