His Old Lady (Patches: Tarkio MC Book 2)

by Debra Kayn

  "We'll solve all the problems tomorrow." He shrugged off his vest and placed it on the back of the dining room chair. "In the meantime, there isn't anything you can do tonight."

  She gawked at him. He handled everything with ease, except her. If a problem popped up, he had the answer on how to solve it. If life was so simple, why couldn't he admit he had feelings for her?

  It was as if he rather focus on everything but her.

  The greenhouse belonged to her. She would figure out how to survive after the fire. There was no other option.

  The money she had saved wasn't enough to rebuild. The extra money was supposed to be added on to the sale of the house, eventually, and used to purchase a new place. A bigger piece of property and a more accommodating greenhouse and land to grow inside and out.

  Without the greenhouse, the equity in Grandma June's house went down. It would take her longer to save more money to get what she wanted.

  "Let's go to bed." He held out his hand.

  She slipped her fingers into his rough palm. "I want to take a shower first."

  "While you get ready, I'll hop in and warm up the water for you." He stopped in her bedroom and bent over to unlace his boots.

  "You don't have to stay with me. I'll be fine...I always am."

  He kicked off his boots and took his pistol out from underneath his belt. Apparently, she wasn't going to change his mind, and she was secretly glad.

  "We have shit to do in the morning. It'll save me a trip," he said.

  "Oh."

  He glanced at her. She hadn't meant for him to hear the disappointment in her voice. Only once, she wanted to hear the real reason he was going to stay with her instead of the pity she believed he was giving her.

  "Towels?"

  She pointed. "In the bathroom cabinet."

  He left the bedroom and walked across the hallway. She sank down on the edge of the bed. The fire heavy on her mind.

  She couldn't understand how a fire would've started. The heating was turned off. The hothouse effect kept the building warm enough at this time of year to keep the plants protected, even if temperatures dipped to freezing for a few hours overnight.

  All the fertilizers and sprays were stored apart from each other. Grandma June had taught her exactly how to care for everything. She knew the risks.

  It was too early in the year for lightning strikes.

  Could someone have started the fire?

  Superior was a quiet little town. The teenagers in the area rarely caused trouble, and when they got up to no-good, they usually sprayed graffiti on the school or partied down by the river or up on the mountain, away from adults. She'd never heard of anyone setting fire to someone's house or building before.

  She couldn't stop thinking that Curley hanging around her after avoiding her for years had something to do with tonight. Could he have an enemy that was trying to hurt him, through her?

  Elliot was at her house when they'd arrived. How had Tarkio found out about the fire before she had?

  Could someone connected to Uncle Walker have done the job to get back at him? Her quiet life seemed to have blown up right in front of her.

  She practically lived in the greenhouse when she was home. It wouldn’t suddenly explode. Besides, she'd worked in the building before leaving to go to Promise, and like she was taught, she checked to make sure all the fertilizer, bug sprays, and growth hormones were put away.

  Kicking off her shoes, she removed her clothes and put them in the basket in the corner of the room. She walked naked, planning to jump into the shower after Curley, but needed answers before she forgot the many thoughts circling in her head once she fell asleep.

  With the shower going, she reached into the cabinet and grabbed a couple towels, wrapping one around her and setting the other one on the hook beside the shower.

  Curley's flesh behind the warbled glass door caught her attention. She couldn't see a clear picture of him. Only that he was under the stream of water, rubbing his chest with soap.

  Her stomach fluttered. She would never get used to seeing him naked. Muscles covered in tattoos gave her a lot to look at. Leaning against the counter, she had a G-rated show of him cleaning himself.

  "Are you going to watch me or get in?" he asked.

  "I can wait." She blew out her breath, wanting nothing more than to slip inside the shower and let him wash her while she closed her eyes and enjoyed his rough hands on her body. It would probably be the only thing that got her mind off everything that happened tonight.

  "Can I ask you something?" she said.

  "Not out there."

  She stepped forward and slid the glass shower door open. "You mentioned Elliot was here during the fire. Why was he?"

  Curley tugged her towel off and held out his hand. Chilled, she stepped into the tub and squeezed her way in front of him to stand underneath the warm spray of water.

  "Tarkio has an associate that hears the calls over the scanner for the police and fire department."

  "In Superior?" She frowned, not liking that.

  Tarkio Motorcycle Club's territory involved Missoula, not Superior.

  "Yeah. Priest took the call, then rang Elliot. He lives about ten minutes away from you."

  "I didn't know that," she said.

  "He pulled in as the fire truck arrived. There's a payphone at the corner, and he was able to keep Priest informed about what was going on."

  She reached up and tilted her head back, wetting her hair. "Okay, but don't you find it a coincidence that my greenhouse was destroyed, and you decided to start spending time with me?"

  "What are you getting at?"

  She opened her eyes and lowered her chin, reaching for the shampoo. He took the bottle out of her hands and motioned for her to turn around. She pivoted and stared at the wall.

  "I find it strange that you're here offering to help me deal with the fire," she said.

  He worked the shampoo through her hair, using the tips of his fingertips. She closed her eyes as her neck muscles let go, and her head hung behind her. For someone who had strong, rough hands, the massage eased the tension out of her neck and head.

  "If you're asking if the fire has anything to do with Tarkio or me, I don't think so."

  "What about Uncle Walker?"

  "That's a stretch." He gripped her shoulders, turned her, and then worked the soap out of her hair under the stream of water. "If I had one suspect, it would be your old boss."

  She jerked her head straight and opened her eyes. Instantly her vision blurred, and her eyes burned. Tipping back again, she let the water run over her face and wash the suds from her eyes until she could open her eyelids again without any pain.

  "Why would you think Cal is behind the fire?"

  "Why has he been stopping by your house?"

  Okay, he had a point. She wanted to know the same thing.

  "I don't know. I figured it was to ask me to come back to work for him, or maybe he wanted to ask me out on a date, or maybe he wants to apologize for being an asshole. His wife divorced him, and he's...well, enjoying his newfound freedom a little too much when it comes to me."

  He grunted. "You never said anything."

  "I didn't have to, because you're not responsible for me."

  "Bullshit," he muttered. "I could've stopped him."

  She turned away from him and finished her shower, aware of him watching her. His change of attitude toward her left her off-balance. Half thrilled and half scared as if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She'd gotten used to his rejections and found herself waiting for him to change his mind about staying with her.

  "Curley?" She kept her back to him. "I don't want to belong to you anymore."

  The tears she refused to let fall vibrated in her chest. She'd spoken the words to him many times over the years, but it was always in anger and frustration. Her hope was always that he'd confess to loving her, but she never was able to get the right response from him.

  Now when she spoke
the words, it was sadness that came out.

  Having him again only to never really belong to him was her reality, and the truth sucked. She wasn't strong enough to believe she'd survive. The older she got, the more she had to face that she'd wasted a lifetime loving him.

  The water grew cooler. She glanced behind her, expecting to face pure anger coming from Curley, and found herself alone in the shower.

  Chapter 24

  Curley

  Closing the side gate to the back yard, Curley walked into the front yard, peering out at the street. Before he went to sleep, he wanted to make sure Faye's house was safe.

  After two o'clock in the morning, he hadn't expected to see anything unusual. It was a safe neighborhood. Most everyone knew each other.

  It was hard for him to believe, because of the cozy area, that someone hadn't recognized someone or something out of the ordinary. Or spotted the first plume of smoke when the fire started.

  Stepping onto the porch, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. Elliot swore there was nobody around when the fire department arrived. He found that odd on a Friday night. Almost too quiet for a small town. Where were the kids racing up and down the road in their ratty ol' cages? The middle-aged folks going to the bar? Someone had to be around and see something.

  He suspected, because no one noticed anything until the fire was engulfed, the person who started the fire was from the area. Her enemy or Tarkio's? That's what he needed to figure out.

  The door opened. Sensing Faye before she stepped out onto the porch, he stubbed out his smoke and pocketed the filter.

  "I thought you'd left." She wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging her robe tighter.

  "I haven't changed my mind. I’m still spending the night."

  She stepped forward and sat on the steps of the porch, swiveling halfway to look at him. Content to be with her, he saw no reason to start a conversation. It was better when they shared silence.

  When he tried to explain himself or come up with excuses to spend time with her, he only complicated things. She always wanted to know why he couldn't treat her like an old lady, and he had no answers he could give her.

  She looked out at the street. With her attention drawn away, he took the time to watch her. If she only knew how much he wanted to take all the rights he was owed by claiming her, she'd run straight out into the road, screaming for help.

  She deserved someone better.

  Some women were only out to enjoy life, finding pleasure from anyone or anything that would give them a little attention. Some women strived for something deeper and would cling to a man until her last breath.

  Loyal with every fiber in her body, Faye had so much to give him. Desperate to love and be loved...Jesus, she had so much love that spilled out of her at every turn.

  Faye was the kind of woman a man held on to for a lifetime.

  He loved that about her, and he selfishly knew he was the lucky one. She was the one bright spot in his life. She was his everything.

  And yet, he sat on her porch, three yards away from her, and couldn't spare her the pain of seeing her dreams go up in smoke tonight.

  Instead, he'd rented a warehouse and put her and her friends to work, thinking that was the answer to her problems. When creating a job for her was a way for him to keep her in his life.

  Fuck. He was an asshole.

  He stood. She deserved better.

  Picking up her hand, he led her into the house. She came willingly, not even a tug of resistance. She clung to his hand. Squeezing her fingers, he gave her the comfort she needed.

  Inside the bedroom, he took off his boots and jeans, putting his pistol on the nightstand. He hadn't bothered with a shirt or his vest after his shower because he knew he was coming back inside to spend the night with her.

  Fully naked, he took in Faye. She hadn't removed her robe or moved from the spot beside the bed. His gaze connected with hers.

  She looked to him with unspoken questions he couldn't answer. His chest pounded, hating the pain and heartbreak she was going through. He wished she'd yell, scream, and beat her fists against him the way she had when she was little, and the world had become too scary for her. At least then, he'd know what was going on in her head.

  He was supposed to take care of her, protect her, and shit was happening that he had no clue how it had started or who was responsible.

  Her old boss was harassing her. Enough that she and her friends had quit their job. He should've known about the problem the first time the guy stepped out of line.

  Now her greenhouse burned to the ground. What would've happened if it was her house and she had been home and sleeping? She could've died, and he wouldn't have been here to save her.

  He stepped closer to her. She never looked away from him.

  Taking the edges of her robe, he stripped her of the material. His cock hardened at the sight of her naked body. Tonight, of all nights, she needed him.

  Taking her hand, he pulled her around. She crawled up on the bed, moving to the far side. He followed and covered them both with the blanket.

  Pulling her into his arms, her face to his chest, he rubbed her back in slow circles. Her arm slipped over his hip. Trying to ignore the pounding in his balls, he closed his eyes and concentrated on comforting Faye until she fell asleep. Only then could she escape from the stress in her life.

  "Grandma June taught me all the names of the plants and how to grow them from seed. Then, she taught me to collect the seeds and grow them again. Every single plant I had in the greenhouse came from seeds she'd collected. I grew them, but they were originally her plants." She shuddered. "I feel like I've lost her all over again, and I will never have that part of her back. Even if I start over, it will be someone else's seeds, someone else's plants."

  "She's a part of you." He trailed his hand along her spine and gently squeezed the back of her neck. "You can't lose the memories, the teachings, the love."

  Her warm breath blew on his chest. "Do you have a family?"

  "You," he answered quickly.

  She lifted her head. He was glad for the darkness. His past was ancient history. She was his woman, that's all that mattered to him.

  "What about your parents?" she whispered.

  "I'm sure they're out there somewhere."

  "When is the last time you saw them?"

  His hand stilled. "When my dad beat my ass in the driveway and told me to get the hell out of there and never come back."

  She gasped. "How old were you?"

  "Almost eighteen years old," he muttered.

  She put her head back on the pillow and snuggled against his chest. He continued to rub her back. It'd been a long time since he was a kid, and not one day went by where he gave his parents any thought. They were shit people and even worse parents.

  When he'd left home, it was the last time he allowed someone to lay a hand on him after growing up under his dad's fists. Every fight from that day forward, he won. Even when he got the shit beat out of him, he walked away, knowing he never cowered.

  Faye's breathing evened out. Wide awake, he kept touching her.

  This was how it was supposed to be between them. He should be spending every night with her in his arms.

  But for every night he gained, he was only setting her up for heartbreak. He was making things worse for her. Once again, he wished it was him sitting in prison instead of Walker. At least he would've done right by her.

  Faye moaned, wiggling against him. He kissed the top of her head, soothing her.

  Her breasts pressed against the front of him. Her hard nipples scorched his skin.

  It was going to be a long fucking night.

  She wasn't a young girl anymore. It was getting harder for him to stay away. Maybe not staying away was the answer. Could he possibly treat her like his old lady and weather the storm that would come when she finds out the truth?

  And she would find out. There was never any doubt. Maybe not tomorrow or a year from now, bu
t Walker would get released from prison in nine years. Shit would have to be sorted. Faye would learn enough to form her own opinion about him.

  She'd hate him. She'd kill him. Maybe not with a gun to the head, but there would be nothing left of him if he lost her.

  He and Walker belonged to Tarkio, and he would owe Walker for paying for his crime. Afraid Walker would ask him to step away from Faye, he knew the price was too much to pay. That's why he never visited the prison after claiming Faye. He wasn't going to take a chance that Walker turned on him, and he lost the only good thing in his life.

  But he couldn't help feeling as if he had more nights like this with Faye in his arms, it would be worth losing her in the end.

  Chapter 25

  Faye

  Too exhausted to open her eyes, Faye squirmed against the firmness of her bed, trying to find her pillow. If she forced herself to get up, she'd need to face the fact that her greenhouse was gone and her morning chores were no longer there.

  Moving her head to find a comfortable spot, she jolted fully awake, realizing it was Curley underneath her.

  She blinked her eyes open.

  All her senses went haywire. One of his hands cupped her butt and the other tangled in her hair.

  She held her breath, trying to tell if he was asleep or awake. Her upper body atop him, she dared not move. Even her legs were entwined with his.

  A pulsating hardness throbbed against her hip. If he wasn't awake, a certain body part of his was telling her good morning.

  She swallowed, aroused despite the awkwardness of waking up on top of him. They were comfortable around each other naked, but there was something about the early hours that made her hesitant to be with him.

  Like she'd dreamed sleeping with him. That once he woke, he'd ride away and go back to Tarkio.