by Cathryn Cade
"Okay," she said. But she climbed off of him, and reached for the big grey tee she'd left under the pillow.
As she pulled it on, and settled it around her thighs, T-Bear scowled at the shirt. "Where'd that come from?"
Startled, she looked down. The tee had a faded Seahawks emblem on the front. Nothing wrong with that, as they were in Seahawks country. "I don't know, Billie or Lesa left it for me."
"That's no chick tee. Don't much like you wearin' some other brother's shirt. I'll go get you one of mine, you can wear that."
Manda frowned back at him. "How about you go sleep in your own bed, and then you won't have to see me in 'a brother's shirt'?" she deepened her voice in imitation of his, and then put a hand to her head, massaging her temple.
T-Bear's expression softened. "You okay? Need one of your painkillers? Damn, shouldn't have let you do so much today, and then fuckin' on top of that. Too much for you, you should be sleepin'."
As he spoke, he was already sliding out of the bed, and striding to the bathroom.
Even with a headache coming on, Manda still appreciated the sight—a lot. His long legs were as brawny as the rest of him, and his ass was Tumblr-worthy. As for his long, broad back and those arms... happy sigh. Or at least, a half-cranky, half-happy sigh, because no matter how good the rest of her felt, her head did hurt.
He brought her a glass of water and a pill, which she took. Then he smiled as she could not resist looking lower, to that part of him now hanging large and lax at his groin.
"Scoot over," he told her.
She stared at him over the top of the glass. "What?"
"Scoot over," he repeated. "You gotta move so I don't crush you when I get in bed, 'cause it ain't as big as mine."
She considered sleeping alone with her nightmares, versus snug in a bed with a big cuddly bear in it. It didn't have to mean anything. And tomorrow she'd get to searching for a job and an apartment. "Okay."
He got into the bed beside her, and lay back in the pillows, yanking the covers up his waist. Then he gave a huge yawn, and stretched his arm out over her, crooked open. "C'mere, baby. Need a good-night kiss."
"A good-night kiss?" Manda bit her lip, torn between wanting to giggle and sigh at the extreme sweetness of his words.
He turned his head on the pillow, giving her a wicked grin."Yeah. Unless you want more lovin'. I'm tired, but for you I could manage another round."
She wasn't sure she could. Their first round had been awesome, but apparently she wasn't quite as recovered from her injuries as she'd thought. But heat flooded her face at idea of saying this aloud.
"Good-night kiss," she mumbled.
"Then c'mere." His huge hand pressed in on her back. She allowed herself to be urged so close that her front was pressed to his side, one of her legs over his. This meant her pussy was pressed against his hard thigh, and her torso against his, her breasts pillowed on his hard, hair-dusted pecs.
And this, judging from the satisfied look in his sleepy eyes, was just how he wanted it. He bent up under her to press his lips to hers, then again, a low rumble of satisfaction in his chest.
Then he lay back with a sigh that lifted her and let her down again. "Sleep tight," he said, and closed his eyes.
Manda lay there for a moment, holding her head up with her hand pressed to his chest. He expected her to just lie down this way and go to sleep? Unusual, compared to her other partners. Still, it felt so good.
Just for one night, she reminded herself. She yawned, so hard her eyes watered. Then with a sigh, she lay down, her head on his shoulder, wriggled a bit to get comfortable, and closed her eyes. So-oo nice.
She was asleep in seconds.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
* * *
Thursday, T hustled back to the clubhouse for lunch. He did so with a big smile on his face and a spring in his steps.
JJ was not in at JJ's Auto, again, which was worrisome. But this also meant that with a lull in appointments until one-thirty that afternoon, T and Moke made the executive decision to close the shop for lunch.
Moke headed off on an errand, and T headed home. Funny thing was, the clubhouse felt like home, knowing that Manda was there, whipping up something tasty for lunch, which she'd serve with a smile. He’d steal a kiss for dessert and maybe a whole lot more, if she wasn't too sore from last night.
He'd awakened that morning on his back, to the unexpected delight of Manda's silky head on his bare shoulder, her soft breaths ruffling his beard. She'd had one hand holding onto his bicep like she was making sure he didn't get away in the night, and her soft titties were pressed to the outside of his arm.
He'd lain there, just enjoying all of this until his phone alarm sounded the obnoxious but effective sounds of a popular rap singer telling him to 'get up, get up and get on it'.
With a sigh, T had leaned to press a kiss to Manda's head, inhaling her warm, sleepy, sexy scent.
Then he got up—wincing as he did so. His back was stiff because Rocker's mattress was old—not as bad as the last one he'd slept on with Manda, but still nowhere near as good as his own.
Then he got on it, hauling his ass off to his room to get ready for the day. He stooped to grab his jeans off the floor, yanking them on before leaving her room, 'cause anymore, there were likely to be other old ladies around the club anytime of the day or night.
And Flyers didn't appreciate their old ladies getting an eyeful of naked biker, other than their own men. Things had sure changed around here in the last year... although mostly for the better.
Now, it was lunch time. And his woman was the one making the clubhouse smell like heaven on Earth, which was another change for the better. In fact, it was the best.
* * *
Manda had a pot of hamburger-veggie soup simmering on the stove for lunch.
When T walked into the kitchen, she was toasting up some grilled cheese sandwiches on the big electric griddle. It was good that she'd made a big pot of soup, because other Flyers drifted in, sniffing the air like they smelled something they weren't used to, and wanted in on it.
Rav was there, plus the stocky, grouchy biker with a bush of dirty hair and beard that T introduced as Bouncer. With him came Cooler and Knife, who as far as Manda could see were a matched set with Bouncer, as all three of them could stand to pay more attention to personal hygiene and manners.
She stood at the stove, toasting more cheese sandwiches until T finished his lunch, got up and announced that she was done cooking. "Streak, you take over," he ordered.
This the young prospect did, and Manda was able to get her own soup and sandwich and come sit beside T.
"You find any of those plastic containers in the cupboards?" he asked her as she spooned up her soup. "The kind we could put soup in and take back to JJ's with us?"
She nodded, as she'd found several stacks of disposable containers in different sizes. "For Moke?"
"Nah, for JJ. He's in today. I was thinkin' soup might go down easy for him."
"Sure," she said, rising instantly.
He put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Babe. Finish your lunch. Hey, Streak! Dish some o' that soup to go, yeah?"
"Sure, T."
Manda ate while T's big hand wandered across the back of her shoulders and cupped her nape under her hair, sending shivers through her and causing her to lose her appetite... for food, at least. If she were a wild biker babe, she'd give him a smile and invite him back to her room for dessert. But she wasn't, so she set down her spoon instead.
"I'm finished," she said to him. "We can go when you're ready."
Rav instantly snagged the other half of her sandwich and stuck it in his mouth, winking at her over it. "Thanks," he mumbled.
She pushed her soup bowl toward him as well, and he took it, scraping the contents into his own without a hint of embarrassment. Geez, it was like having a bunch of big, rowdy, slightly scary brothers, she thought. Well, they were brothers, as far as they were concerned. She just wasn't their sister.
"Ready?" T asked, his eyes sparkling.
"For what?" she asked, blushing because she expected—okay, hoped—he'd jerk his head toward the bedrooms and say something like, 'ready to give me some sugar'.
But, he didn't. "To meet JJ," he said instead. "After he got done yellin' at Moke and me for moving his shit around, he decided he wants to meet the gal who cleaned his office all spic-n-span."
Manda nearly dug her heels in and refused to go with him. She was not up for being scolded by an irascible older man.
But T swept her along with him. “C’mon, you look pretty as can be,” he told her. “Can hardly notice the bruises anymore, honest.”
That wasn’t why she was hesitating. But it was clearly important to him, so she allowed herself to be hurried along. Before she knew it, she was in his pickup, a shopping bag with soup, cheese sandwich and soda crackers on the seat beside her.
JJ Washington occupied the chair behind the counter in his auto shop as if he'd sat there so often for so many years it was habit. A tall, African American he was thin and wan, his eyes sunken in his face, but Manda could see the big, vital, handsome man he'd been. He sort of reminded her of Danny Glover, if the actor lost too much weight and donned a faded dark blue pants and shirt with JJ's Auto embroidered on the chest pocket.
When T walked her in, the shop owner looked her over and then nodded. "Okay, now I get it," he murmured to no one in particular.
What he got, Manda didn't know, but she smiled, because this man was important to T, so she wanted to be polite and cordial. This was difficult, when the next words out of the older man's mouth were, "You the one who messed around with all my stuff?"
T didn't wait for her to answer. "This is Manda," he informed JJ. "She's a cleanin' dynamo, and good with customers, besides. Even got old man Riemann to smile and talk."
JJ looked unimpressed.
Manda suddenly remembered the bag in her hands. "We brought you lunch.” She walked around the counter to set out the container of soup, a spoon and napkin, as well as the grilled cheese sandwich, and the baggie of saltines. "I hope you like it. Made fresh this morning."
JJ looked at the food, and then slowly reached to open the container, surveying the contents.
"Okay, I'll let you eat," she said softly, and retreated to stand by the door leading to the garage.
The older man pointed his spoon at T. "Don't you turn her loose out there. She'll be organizing the tools by color and size, or some crap like that."
T cleared his throat. "I'll keep an eye on her, boss. You want some water, or something?"
JJ was already spooning soup, although with little enthusiasm. He shook his head.
T turned to the shop door. Manda got out of his way, because his face was dark, his brows drawn down in a way she hadn't seen.
He jerked his head to the garage, and she followed him out. Moke was already there, working under the hood of a blue sedan.
In the shop, T moved out of sight of the office, reached out and hauled Manda close. He was trembling. "Fuck," he muttered. "He looks like shit. Somethin's bad wrong, gotta be."
She put her arms around him, and held on, stroking her hands over his broad, powerful back. The leather of his cut was smooth and ridged under her hands. "I'm sorry, honey."
He gave her a squeeze of thanks, then spoke over her head to Moke. "You hear from Latisha yet? JJ's daughter," he added for Manda's benefit. "Hoping she might have the test results back from the docs."
Manda twisted as Moke looked up from what he was doing, his face somber. He shook his head.
"All right." T gave Manda a squeeze, and then eased his grip, tucking his chin to look down into her face. "Gotta get to work, honey girl. You wanna stay, or go back to the clubhouse? You can take my truck, come back and pick me up after work."
She considered. "Well, I could go to the grocery store across the road, get what I need, and make you some cookies."
"Hell, yeah," he agreed instantly, a little of the darkness lifting from his gaze.
"Chocolate chip," Moke called. "Only kine cookie worth eating."
T nodded. "Fine with me. Here, take some money." He hauled out his worn, brown leather wallet and fished out two twenties.
"That's too much," she told him.
"Not if you buy shit to make a cake too." He bent to kiss her, a soft brush of lips, beard and mustache. "Thanks, babe.”
"You're welcome."
An incoming customer honked from outside the garage, so they had no more time to talk.
Manda left through the office, where JJ sat slumped in his chair, staring at the nearly-full container of soup. She stopped, clutching her purse nervously. "You want some salt and pepper for that?" she asked.
He blinked, and turned his head, squinting at her as if it hurt to focus. "Nah," he said gruffly. "Just not hungry. Nothin' tastes good no more."
"It would make the guys happy if you'd try and eat something," she said. "And your daughter too, I'm sure."
His face creased in a scowl, and he flicked a hand at her. "Said I'm not hungry. Now go on, and leave that door open when you go—smells like lemon in here. Can't stand lemon."
Since he was the one who'd bought the lemon cleaner, this hardly seemed fair.
But without another word, Manda hurried out the front door, and left it propped open to the spring sunshine. Luckily, it was a warm day.
Even the weeds in the corners of the lot looked happy, with green shoots starting up in the midst of the dead brown stalks. Her hands itched to get in there and clean out the dead growth, and then have the guys load up those old tires and haul them away.
Moke was just getting out of the blue car, having parked it in the lot ready for pickup.
"Thanks," he said to her.
"For what?" she asked wryly. "Your boss is mad that I messed around in his office, and he doesn't want any soup."
Moke shook his head. "He's hurting and scared. Having those tests meant admitting something's wrong."
This was a fascinating glimpse into the male mind. "Oh. I'll bet you're right. Well, see you later."
He lifted his chin and walked away. Manda climbed into T's truck, started it up, and headed off to buy groceries.
The local grocery store was on the other side of the main road through Airway Heights. At lunchtime on a nice spring day, the road and businesses along it were busy. Cars were lined up at the Mexican fast-food cafe, and the parking lot of The Hangar was full.
Manda waited for several semi-trucks and strings of locals before seizing her chance to cross the highway. Then she pressed down on the accelerator too hard, and gravel spurted out from the back tires as the truck leapt forward. Yikes! Anymore of that, and T would regret letting her drive his truck. She just hadn't expected the engine to respond so swiftly.
She cruised the store’s parking lot until she found three empty spots so she could carefully park in the middle one. She was not used to driving such a large vehicle. Her Camry had been small. Easy to drive, easy to park. She shook her head at her own stupidity in allowing Tim to convince her to walk away from it. With the clarity of hindsight, Chloe and their mutual friend Whitney were both right—she did try too hard to please people.
Thinking of Whitney made Manda wonder how her friend was doing. Like Chloe, she and Manda had been friends since early in their high school years.
Now Whitney was off in Europe with her new husband, who was in the Army. They'd gotten married so she could follow him to his first assignment in Germany. Manda had lost her friend's phone number with her phone, but she could go on Facebook and message her. She'd do that this evening, as there were other people she wanted to catch up with too.
She was smiling as she collected a shopping cart and made her way along the front of the store toward the baking aisle. She selected a bag of chocolate chips, and began to read the list of ingredients on the back. Flour, sugar, baking soda, etc, all on this aisle.
With her cart loaded for cookie baking, she headed
off to get butter.
Another young woman stood in front of the dairy case, a carton of yogurt in her hands. She looked vaguely familiar. Willowy slim, she wore black leggings tucked into high-heeled boots, and a slouchy white sweater over a black bra.
Her red hair was carefully curled, her makeup heavy, and her lashes so amazingly thick and long Manda stared before she realized they were false.
"Oh," the redhead said, looking Manda over. "You're the chick that T-Bear found."
Manda frowned. Found? Yeah she’d been in trouble, but she hadn’t exactly been lying around in the street.
"Uh, yeah. T-Bear’s my friend.," she told the redhead, trying to remember where she’d seen her before.
And then it came to her—the first and last time she'd seen this woman, she'd been perched on a lap in the bar at the Devil's Flyer clubhouse , sucking face with one of the guys. And not a hot guy, but the somewhat greasy Bouncer.
The redhead gave her a look of sympathy as false as her lashes. "Yeah. Well, just don't get attached. The big guy's not over my friend Kryssy, you know? So when she comes around, he'll go back to her."
She leaned in, so close Manda got a whiff of strong, sweet perfume. "Just thought you should know, hon. Bye now."
Manda stood stunned as the woman sauntered away. Whoa, she'd just been warned off. The question was, who was this Kryssy? The awful Krystelle that Billie and Lesa had told her about, or yet another friend of the club?
She turned and called, "So which one of the Flyers are you with, hon? Or do you just go with whoever crooks their finger first?"
The redhead turned and gave her a glare, which Manda met with a sugary smile. Then the redhead stalked away, and Manda turned back to the butter. She felt a little sick to her stomach. Probably because she wasn't used to other women being so openly bitchy to her. In fact, she hadn't encountered it since high school. Sheesh. That chick seriously needed to grow up, and get her own life.
However, the seed of doubt had been sown. T-Bear was after her, no doubt. But was it because he truly wanted her? Or had she just been tossed in his lap, and now he figured, 'Hey, may as well have fun until Kryssy gets back. Then I'll drop this one like an empty Twinkie bag, and move on.'
