“Are you serious?”
“Come on, all you gotta do is read a recipe, how hard can it be?”
She glanced around the room. “You got a copy of Cooking for Dummies stashed around here somewhere?”
He grinned. “Nope, but there’s this wonderful invention called the internet.”
She grinned back at his sarcasm. “LOL.”
He let out a laugh.
She drained the rest of her beer and set it on the island. He moved to the refrigerator, snagged another bottle, twisted the top off and set it in front of her, exchanging it for her empty.
“Thank you,” she whispered, remembering his comment back at the bar when she’d neglected to show manners.
“You’re welcome, Princess,” he replied, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. A few minutes later, he turned and pulled the pizza out of the oven and ran a pizza cutter across it several times. Then he slid the pan on the granite between them. “Dig in.”
He grabbed a slice and leaned back against the counter, eating it. Shannon picked up a slice and bit into it. It actually wasn’t that bad. They ate in silence. When they were finished, she watched as he got out a small plastic pail and held it under the icemaker, filling it about half way. Then he put it under the faucet and filled it with some water until the ice was floating. She frowned, wondering what on earth he was doing.
He reached into the fridge, hooked two beer bottles in the fingers of each hand and kicked the door shut with his foot. Then he jammed them into the ice-filled pail. Turning to her, he motioned with his head and said, “Grab your beer. Come on.”
She followed him up the metal stairs and out the door onto the side roof. The sun had gone down, but the sky still held the last traces of hazy blue light. Like he’d told her, she could see the lights of the cars crossing the Bay Bridge, looking like little sparkling crystals moving in a line. “Wow. It’s beautiful up here.”
“Um-hmm.” He motioned toward two low-slung Adirondack-style chairs that faced the view. “Have a seat.”
They both sat down, and he set the beer-filled pail between them. She grinned over at him, glancing down at the pail. “What more could a person want? A great view and ice-cold beer at the ready.”
He grinned back. “You got it, babe.”
She took a sip of beer and enjoyed the view. Crash reached his hand down under his chair, and she looked over to see him pulling out a half empty pack of smokes and a lighter.
“Mind if I smoke?” he asked, shaking one out.
“Go right ahead. It’s your house.” She watched him light up. “I didn’t realize you smoked.”
He twisted his wrist, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. “I allow myself one at the end of the day. Usually up here.” He gestured to the view.
She nodded.
He took a hit and tilted his head back, slowly blowing the smoke out. Without turning towards her, he asked, “You want to talk about this guy?”
“This guy?” She frowned.
“The one you’re runnin’ from,” he clarified.
She immediately turned her head away, her stomach dropping. Trying to cover her internal reaction, she made an effort at appearing unaffected by taking a sip of her beer. “No,” she replied and felt his head swivel towards her, his eyes studying her.
“You sure?” he prompted softly. “You seemed pretty scared back there today.”
She looked down, picking at the label on her bottle with her manicured nail. “I’m sure.” She felt him watching her. Finally, he turned away and took another hit off his smoke.
“All right, Princess.”
“How long have you lived here?” she asked, wanting to change the subject. Glancing over at him, she caught his grin and realized he knew what she was doing.
“Bought it a couple of years ago. Put in the kitchen and bath. Took about a year to make the place livable.”
“You did all the work yourself?” she asked, impressed.
“Yeah.”
“It’s very nice.”
His eyes came to her, his eyebrows raised. “Fuckin’ pleased you like it. I’ll sleep better tonight.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Just trying to be nice. I thought we had a truce.”
He grinned and took a sip of beer.
“So, what’s your real name, Crash?” she asked.
He took another drag off his smoke, studying the horizon. “You stick around long enough, maybe I’ll tell you.”
“Hmm, cryptic.” She grinned, looked back at the view and took a sip of beer. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his eyes crinkle up with a smile.
Shannon kicked her heels off and rested her feet on a wooden crate that Crash had obviously been using in the past as a footrest. She crossed her legs at the ankles. Taking a sip of beer, she glanced over and caught his eyes trailing down the length of her tanned legs. Well, well. Maybe he wasn’t as totally immune to her as he pretended to be. With a tiny smile, she rested her head back and looked up at the stars twinkling in the darkening sky. It really was lovely up here.
Crash took a deep drag off his cigarette, his eyes back on the horizon.
Shannon waited until his chest was expanded with smoke to comment, “That’s an awfully big bed you have down there.” A small smile pulled at her mouth as he choked out the smoke, coughing.
When he got his breath back, he rasped out, “What?”
“The bed. It’s huge.”
A grin formed on his face. “Yeah, it is. This conversation headed where I think it is?”
She huffed out a laugh. “Hardly. I’m just curious why a man like you would get a bed like that.”
“Ah, we’re back to that ‘man-like-me’ stuff, huh?”
She rolled her eyes.
He grinned, looking back at the horizon. “Angel found it.”
“Huh?”
“The bed. Angel found it at some estate sale. Insisted I was the only person she knew with a space big enough for it.”
“So you bought it? Just because of that?”
He shrugged. “She sorta had her heart set on finding it a home. I needed a bed. It made her happy, so…”
“So you bought it.”
“Yeah.”
Amazing. Who would do something like that? Just to make a woman, a woman that wasn’t even his woman by the way, happy. She frowned. He really wasn’t adding up to be who she thought. Trying to bend him back into the man she expected him to be, she asked snidely, “Bet the women just love it.”
“The women?”
She gave him a look. There were women. The way he looked, there were lots. “Yes, the women.”
“You fishing for a number, Shannon?”
She huffed out a breath. “I’m sure it’d be astronomical.”
He gave a short laugh. “Pleased to hear you think I’m such a babe magnet.”
“You’re hot, and I’m sure you know it.”
“I’m hot, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “Stroking your ego is not my job here.”
“Princess, now you’ve got me thinking about you stroking something.”
“God, you’re a Neanderthal!”
He grinned. “Deep down, most men are, darlin’, even the one’s wearin’ a suit and tie.”
“Right. They may think those things, but they don’t say them.”
“Oh, I guarantee you they’re thinking them. Especially, anytime you’re in the vicinity.”
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Oh, so now you’re saying I’m hot?”
“Babe, you know you are. What’s worse, you use it to manipulate men into getting your way.”
“Well, you don’t think too much of me, do you?”
“Didn’t think I’d made that a secret.”
“My God, you have no filter at all!”
“I say what I mean. I don’t play games. You aren’t ever gonna have to guess how I feel about something, sweetheart.”
Crash looked ov
er at her out of the corner of his eye. It was entertaining riling her up. For his own amusement, he decided to keep it going, exaggerating his comments way past what his actual views were. He studied the horizon and sipped his beer considering several smart remarks when she started back in, giving him an opening.
She huffed out a little breath. “It’s men like you that drive women crazy.”
“No, you got that backwards, darlin’. Women drive men crazy.” He kept his eyes on the horizon.
She gave a little smirk. “It’s what we’re put on this earth to do.”
“What you were put on this earth to do is sit there and look pretty,” he taunted, knowing it would get to her. “Which you do very well.” He noticed her go a little soft at his roundabout compliment. That’s when he grinned as he raised the bottle to his lips and added the final zinger. “You just need to get the shuttin’ up part down.”
She glared at him. “Is it all women you hate or just me?”
He turned to look at her then. “I don’t hate women. I love women. Fucking greatest gift God ever put on this planet.”
“You sure don’t sound like it.”
He grinned. “Maybe it’s just you.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
They sat quietly for a while, Crash enjoying his smoke and her enjoying the view.
Several bottles of beer later, Shannon looked out at the horizon, watching the glittering lights coming on as the fading light brought on the darkness of night. A moon reflected off the distant bay, creating a single shimmering trail of light across the dark water. Suspended across the bay, she could see the gloomy hulking shadow of the bridge outlined with tiny lights.
Unobtrusively, she tried to study the man next to her out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t like any man in her life. Sure, she’d known her share of attractive men, confident men, even powerful men. But not in the same way that this man was. There was just something about him that was hard to define, hard for her to put her finger on. He had a commanding presence, sure, but then, she’d been around men like that before. He seemed uncompromising, but then so did her father.
She bit her lip, considering. Sure, men like her father could be intimidating and forceful in the right setting, such as a business meeting or office setting. But a man like Crash would be intimidating and dominant in any setting. She was sure he just had to walk in a room, and he would command attention. It was that alpha dog mentality she supposed. At the same time, she sensed a quiet calm about him as if nothing would rile him or shake him from his confidence. She got the feeling there wouldn’t be too many circumstances that he couldn’t calmly handle.
It gave her a sense of peace and security knowing a man like that was at her side and would be until this whole thing was over, protecting her, looking out for her.
Shannon took a deep breath and lay her head back, letting the worry flow out of her and feeling herself relax for the first time in a long time. It wasn’t long before the tenseness of her body unwound.
She stifled a yawn.
“Tired, Princess?”
She exhaled a breath. “Stop calling me that.”
“Nope. You’re stuck with it.”
“I have a name.”
“Yeah. What you don’t have is a choice. So, Princess, you tired?”
She rolled her head toward him, and a smile tugged at her mouth. “Yeah, a little,” she admitted.
“Ready for bed?” he asked. Grabbing up the pail and all their empties, he stood.
Swinging her legs to the ground, she grabbed up her shoes, and his hand was immediately extended in front of her. Glancing up at him, she put her hand in his, and he pulled her up. “Such a gentleman,” she admired.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She frowned wondering if she’d caught the barest hint of a southern accent. “Where are you from, Crash?”
“Alabama. Birmingham to be exact.”
“Ah, a southern boy, huh?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. A lifetime ago. Still got a sister and a grandmother back home.”
“How long have you been out here?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Ten years, maybe.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you out here? Why California?”
“Why not?”
That wasn’t really an answer, and they both knew it. He turned and headed towards the door, apparently done with the topic. He held the door for her. Once inside, he moved to the kitchen to throw away their empties.
Shannon scanned the room. “What happened to my bag, by the way?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder as he dumped the ice into the sink. “Cole will bring it by tomorrow. Him or one of the guys. Why? What do you need?”
“My things, obviously. Something to sleep in for starters,” she replied.
Crash leaned his palms on the island. “Sorry, darlin’. Guess that leaves you with three choices. One of my tees, your bra and panties, or naked.” He grinned. “I vote for door number three.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You don’t get a vote. Besides, you’ll be on the couch, so you’ll never get to find out.”
“Hmm, maybe I’ll come sneak a peek while you’re asleep.”
The smirk faded from her face.
“I’m kidding, Princess.” He moved out of the kitchen, and Shannon watched him disappear into the bedroom area behind the chains. A lamp switched on, and through the links of chain she could make out the silhouette of his form moving around. She watched as he pulled his tee over his head. The sound of a drawer opening and closing carried to her. A moment later he reappeared, walking toward her. He had on a pair of dark charcoal-grey sweatpants, riding low on his hips…and nothing else. His chest and abs on gorgeous display. Taut muscles shaped his body all the way up his arms and across his broad shoulders. He had tattoos on both arms and some awesome tribal art running vertically down the outside of his right ribs highlighting a six-pack to die for. Lord that was sexy as all hell. Her eyes dropped lower to the sexy v that started at his hips and disappeared into the low-slung waistband. And there, she caught the top edge of another tattoo peeking above the waistband. Lord, she wondered, how many did he have?
Her eyes lifted when he was almost to her, a clean folded tee held in his fist. He tossed it to her. Grabbing it, she clutched it to her chest. He moved around the loft, turning off lights, and her eyes followed him. Good Lord, the back view was just as good. His shoulders were broad, his back muscled to perfection, all the way down to the two dimples at the base of his spine. Get a grip, Shannon, she told herself. Snatching her shoulder bag off the island, she moved toward the bathroom as he moved toward the sectional couch. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lie down, jam a throw-pillow under his head and pull an afghan off the back of the couch.
Crash watched Shannon disappear into the bathroom, her purse clutched in her arms, and he thought about the way those arms had clutched his body as he’d ridden her here on the back of his bike. She’d felt good there. And then, in the elevator when he’d had her body pressed up against his, all soft feminine curves. Shit, he’d gotten hard on the spot. He’d gotten a whiff of her perfume, and the arousing scent had gone straight to his brain, that part of his brain that had him feeling suddenly in all animal instinct mode. And then tonight, out on the roof, the sight of those fuckin’ legs. Christ. Maybe he’d been a fool to volunteer for this hell. He was going to spend the next couple of weeks in a perpetual state of hard-on. What the fuck had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking, or even worse, he’d been thinking with his dick.
A few minutes later, she emerged and headed towards the bedroom. He watched her pause in the doorway, no doubt wondering about the long strands of paperclips, strung together, that made up the childish ‘beaded-curtain-like’ door, if you could call it that. He waited, but she didn’t ask about them. He’d have to tell her about the meaning behind them one of these days. He stopped her before she
went inside his bedroom. There was one thing he wanted to say to her.
“Shannon?” He watched her hand drop from the strands and look back at him. “About this guy you’re runnin’ from? I know you don’t want to talk about him, and that’s okay. But I just want to give you one piece of advice when dealing with guys like that. Always trust the voice in your head. Trust your instincts. Trust your gut.”
She nodded.
“Night, Princess.”
“Night,” she replied and moved inside the bedroom.
He lie watching her dark silhouette move around the room in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
Fuck.
He should have lain down in the other direction. At this angle, he couldn’t help but watch as her arms lifted, and the dress was pulled over her head and tossed aside. He swallowed. Then her arms were reaching behind her, unfastening the clasp of her bra. He bit his lower lip, willing her to turn and give him a profile shot. And then he got his wish as she turned to reach for his tee laying on the bed.
Christ.
The tee went over her head and down. And then she was crawling into his bed. His bed. Just the thought of her in his tee, in his bed was making him hard as a rock. Fuck, what was he doing out here? Everything inside him was telling him—no screaming at him to get up, and go in there.
The light flicked out, and it was darkness. But still, in his mind’s eye, all he could see was the silhouetted profile of her body. That image would be burned in his brain for a long time. Maybe forever.
*****
“Well?” Angel asked.
Cole grinned and shook his head. He’d known the minute he walked through the door tonight, she’d be all over him for details. “She’s fine.” He walked further into the dimly lit kitchen. He grabbed Angel around the waist, pulling her nightgown-clad body up against his and kissed her. Her arms came around his neck, and he deepened the kiss. When he finally lifted his head, she pushed back on his shoulders and looked past him.
“Where is she? Did you leave her at the clubhouse? I’m not sure that’s any place for her, honey.”
Cole stepped over to the counter and picked up the glass of milk Angel had been pouring. He chugged down half of it before turning to answer her. “She’s not at the clubhouse.”
CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) Page 5
