Duck (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 8)

by MariaLisa deMora

“Calves are already done, Mom? Why’d you call me then?” Reuben’s words were interrupted by Eli’s irritated questions and she looked down to see her son’s eyes narrowly focused on her middle, where Reuben’s hands were touching her.

  “They weren’t done when I called you,” she explained. “It’s just someone took his sweet time getting ready for chores.” Eli rolled his eyes and she snorted, turning and twisting out of Reuben’s hold. “No worries, the job’s not finished. You can help me wash bottles.” Her son sighed, lifting his still-narrowed gaze to Reuben when the man blew out a frustrated sounding breath.

  “Brenda, stop it.” Reuben reached out, flattening his palm at the small of her back, the heat of the contact warming her skin through her clothing. “Gill, get the hands to wash the bottles.” He shouted across the pen towards the men, who had all begun to walk away, and she heard a collective groan from them as they turned to slog back to where she had tossed the bottles on the grass outside the pen. “Brenda’s working on dinner. I’ll be in the office for a half hour, and then meet y’all up at the house, yeah?” Reuben looked down at her with a grin. “I’ll have invoices entered before supper. Then there are no excuses left, Bee.”

  Shaking her head, she frowned at him before asking, “It matters that much to you?” She watched as he pulled in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he blew it back out with a silent nod. Staring into his eyes for a moment, she saw the hope rising in them, and gave in with a soft, “Okay, then. Okay, I’ll go.” She looked down at Elias and smiled at her son, “I guess I’m going out tonight, Eli. You’ll need to clean up the dishes after the men get finished.” He groaned as loudly as the ranch hands had a moment ago, pulling another laugh from her. “If you can rinse them and load the dishwasher, I’ll take care of everything else when I get home. Essa will be just down the hallway, so you’ll have company if you want it.”

  As she spoke, he cut his eyes towards Reuben, frowning. Without looking back at her, he muttered, “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Elias Thomas Calloway, is that any way to speak to your mother?” His attitude surprised her because he wasn’t a sullen child. His moods were generally easy, even right after his fa—her brain stuttered for a minute, and she realized what was wrong. Reuben. Eli has to be upset about him being here, she thought.

  Before she could say anything else, he responded with a contrite sounding, “Sorry, Mom. I can handle the dishes.” He paused and the sound of his swallow was loud. “You…you’ll be back before I go to sleep?”

  “Yeah.” With one soft word, she promised him he wouldn’t go to sleep without her telling him goodnight. It was a ritual they’d started back when Tommy’s condition had worsened to the point he couldn’t be part of their daily lives. She thought of it as droplets of normality, a few stolen ordinary moments out of the day when it could be just him and her. The predictable routine meant he always had a chance to talk to her about his dreams or fears, or just the funny things that happened to him throughout the day. Or, as often transpired, they could say nothing at all, sitting in companionable silence while he fell asleep, head on her thigh, her fingers running through his hair. “Wouldn’t miss it, Eli.”

  Nodding, he turned away and she jolted when the hand at her back flexed, fingers digging into her skin, closing around her shirt and tugging her sideways. Twisting, she saw Reuben looking down at her, having stood silently throughout the exchange. He released his grip and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against his side. Gruffly, he said, “He’s a tough kid.” Turning back to watch Eli walk towards the house, she nodded, knowing Reuben was right.

  ***

  Leaning back in his seat, Reuben shook his head in disgust. I shoulda listened to Brenda, he thought. Steve had already been a few beers in when they got to the bar, and over the past forty-five minutes, his assholeness had grown to such proportions, it was impossible to ignore. Chelsie hadn’t been able to accompany him out tonight, and he didn’t know if Steve’s behavior was because he was an unhappily married man, or just an ass, but Reuben had suffered through about all he could stand of the man’s obnoxious flirting, hitting on every woman around. Including Brenda.

  He placed his mouth near Brenda’s ear, inhaling a hint of her perfume as he whispered, “I’m ready to go if you are, honey.” Drawing back in time to see her relieved smile and nod, he laughed quietly. Catching the waitress’ eye, he offered her a couple of bills and got a sweet grin in response to his apologetic, “Thanks, darlin’. Sorry.”

  “It’s just Steve,” the waitress muttered, underscoring for Reuben that Steve was an ass. She leaned around him and, her tone friendly, said, “Good to see you out, Brenda.”

  “Good to be seen,” Brenda responded with a fond smile as she stood.

  When Reuben stood as well, Steve and Donny complained a bit, but they let it go fairly quickly, saying their goodbyes. Mostly because Reuben had just bought another pitcher for the table, and if he and Brenda were leaving, it meant more beer for the two men.

  Hand possessively pressed to the small of Brenda’s back, he steered her out of Mitchell’s and into the parking lot, both of them sighing loudly as the noise and heat of the bar receded. Curving his fingers around her waist, he steadied her against his side as they walked to the truck, shortening his strides to match hers. “Sorry that wasn’t more fun, Bee.” He sighed. “Those guys were jackasses in high school, too, weren’t they? I just didn’t see it.”

  She laughed good-naturedly and tilted her head up to look at him. “Yeah, they were, but it’s okay. I still had fun tonight with you.” Her gaze dropped back to the gravel at her feet, focusing on careful navigation of the uneven surface in the short heels she had paired with a sleeveless sundress.

  He liked seeing the expanse of skin when she came down the stairs at the house, her shoulders, arms, and legs on display. Sideways glances on the short drive into town gave him opportunity to appreciate it even more. But, once realization hit that every man in the bar would be enjoying the same view, he had been surprised at a sudden jealous anger that burned through him. She was so beautiful, and his greedy reaction underscored how much he wanted her for himself.

  Dragging his attention back to the conversation, he grinned and shook his head, saying, “Liar.” God, I like her, he thought, not surprised to find he wasn’t ready for the evening to end. Reuben thought for a moment before asking, “What time does Eli go to bed?”

  “Nine o’clock,” she said, glancing up at him again with a questioning crook of an eyebrow. That expression fled her face as she stumbled, but his arm around her waist kept her from falling. Without taking her eyes from where they had locked with his, she found her footing and softly said, “Thanks.”

  “Let’s go see what’s showing at the drive-in. It’s still open, right?” This would be another experience from high school, but not something he and Brenda had ever done together. At what he hoped was an eager nod, he moved them a little faster towards the truck, reaching out to open the door for her. Helping her into the seat, he watched as she tucked the full skirt closely around her thighs, feet primly lined up side-by-side on the floor of the truck, eyes fixed on her knees. “What do you say, Bee? Want to go see what’s playing?”

  Without looking at him, still silent, she nodded again and he frowned at her lack of response. “Honey, if you don’t want to, it’s okay. We don’t—“

  “I do want,” she said softly, interrupting him as she glanced up at his face. Her soft expression of confused hope and desire stunned him and he couldn’t say anything, simply nodded and closed her door. He stood for a moment, looking at her through the window, their gazes still on each other. He thought about their one night together and how right it felt to move from friends to lovers. How often he had pulled out those memories over the years, the thought of her enough to arouse him. Now, staring into her face, he wondered, Why couldn’t she have loved me?

  With that painful thought, he turned away, walked around the hood of the truck
and climbed into the driver’s seat. Without looking in her direction, he navigated the parking lot, pulling out into the busy street filled with traffic from local folks and tourists in town for the annual rodeo. Based on the no-vacancy signs on several of the motels, he expected there would be a near-record turnout for the shows. Driving through town, he looked around curiously. This was the first time he had left the ranch since coming in with Essa and he recognized more differences than similarity this time through.

  “Y’all had much trouble with new folks in town?” he asked as they drove past a bar positioned on a corner in the center of town, only a couple blocks from Mitchell’s. There were more than two dozen bikes parked along the front of the building and he wondered what patches would be on display inside.

  He hadn’t asked Mason to reach out to any local clubs yet, and since he didn’t have approval to be in town flying Rebel colors, wanted to be respectful of their territory. So, tonight he had on a blue jean vest, leaving his cut hanging in the closet. I don’t even know which clubs call Lamesa home, he thought, somewhat surprised at his lack of concern. A week ago, the club had been in his every waking thought; but since returning home, being near Brenda for the first time in more than a decade consumed him. That and the sheer weight of daily chores were enough to sweep club politics and drama right out of his head.

  “Coyotes, more than anything,” Brenda said, staring out the window.

  He grunted, following her gaze, seeing the flat, brown landscape that was West Texas. She didn’t mean animals. He knew the kind of coyotes she was talking about were of the two-legged variety, running illegals up the backroads to avoid border patrols, one of the things he never missed about home. Musing, he started talking, not sure where he was going with his words. “You know, when I first moved, everything up north looked so different. Illinois is flat, too, at least where I live. I’ve spent quite a bit of time in Indiana where it’s even more so, especially up by Fort Wayne where I’m at now. But, the differences were stark. It felt like a different country.

  “The first time I went from Lamesa to Chicago, it was like I was a kid in the movie theater again, watching as the colors on the screen changed from black and white to the beautiful jewel shades of a dream. The crops up there were emerald green, endless across the landscape. In the fall, the tree leaves turn every color you could imagine, and the sparkling white of a winter snow is nearly impossible to describe.

  “Even the buildings there are different, multi-level townhouses mixed in with old rambling two-story farmhouses, tall office buildings and stately courthouses. Steep, angled roofs intended to slough off the weight of snow. Beauty everywhere I looked, different and striking.”

  She turned to look at him, a musing expression on her face as he continued. “But now I’m back? I see the beauty here, too. I’d nearly forgotten how things look. The way the land races far out to the skyline, the shifting pastel shades of sunrise bleeding out to a blue so bright it hurts your eyes. Here the palette is shifting tones of brown, and the buildings are flat-roofed structures designed to work with the harsh climate, nearly all a single story leaving the sky clear to be seen, horizon to horizon. Even the people, the way they talk? I didn’t know I’d missed it until I found myself surrounded by the music of their voices again, but I did.”

  He twisted, looking over his shoulder to check traffic before changing lanes to turn into the drive-in theater, easing to a stop in the line. “I left because of family, stayed gone because of family, and now I’m back because I don’t have a family. Everything seems so big, Brenda. There. Here. Everywhere. So big it’s hard to describe how small it makes me.” There was heat and pressure on his leg and he glanced down to find her small hand resting on his thigh, her attempt to comfort and reassure him.

  Shaking his head, he pulled on the steering wheel to lean forward, taking his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. Paying for their tickets, he tossed the leather wallet onto the dashboard and drove to a nearly empty field of metal posts, their tethered speakers hanging tidily from a holder on either side of each pole.

  Laughing, he reached down and covered her hand with his palm, readily wrapping his fingers around it. “So you want close to the front, in the middle, or back by the snack shack?” Glancing around, without waiting for a response, he picked a parking space near the back, telling her, “They’ll start the show just after sundown. Lean back and relax. We’ll make sure you’re home in plenty of time to tell Eli good night, yeah? Half a movie is good enough for me.” She nodded and smiled her thanks at him, then kicked off her shoes and leaned back in the seat.

  When she put her bare feet on the dashboard, that damn skirt of hers slipped up her thighs and he groaned silently. Turning her head, she looked at him and smiled again, “This is nice, Reuben. Thanks.”

  “Much better than Mitchell’s with Steve getting his drunk on.” He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know what I was thinking, asking you to go with me.” When a look of hurt and uncertainty washed over her face, he mentally reviewed what he’d said, then shook his head.

  “No, honey. I didn’t mean it that way. What I was trying to say is I should have taken you out for dinner and a real movie, not pretzels and beer in a rowdy bar, followed by half of a two-year-old drive-in show.” Gently squeezing her hand, softly he said, “I should have asked you on a real date. Wined and dined you. Done it up right. You’re worth it.” His throat tightened, dropping his voice to a whisper. “God. Sweeter and even more beautiful than I remembered. You take my breath away.”

  “Oh.” The exclamation was soft, coming as she wrapped her fingers more tightly around his. Holding on.

  Surprised at how his mouth was running on by itself tonight, he heard himself ask, “Do you ever think about that night, Bee?” His spontaneous question hung in the air for a moment while he waited, holding his breath in suspense. Then, when he saw her flush, bright pink embarrassment climbing into her face, he had his answer. Before she had a chance to respond, he told her, “I do, too. All the time. Never forgot a moment. Not a whisper…not a kiss.” He wondered suddenly, What would she do if I kissed her right now? Eyes locked on hers, he slowly shifted towards her on the bench seat of the truck, the weight of an eleven-year-old longing driving him on. “Took you with me everywhere I went, Bee. Everything I saw, I wanted to share with you.”

  Finally close enough to touch her, he reached up and did just that, cupping his palm around her cheek, tilting her head towards his. Her skin’s every bit as silky as I remember. “Every word, every sound, all of you…branded in my brain,” he whispered, lowering his face. “Every touch, every taste, the feeling of your skin sliding against mine. Soft. Sweet. Beautiful.” Her blue eyes were bright, looking up at him, wide in what he prayed was wonder. “Is it wrong of me to want that again? Because I do, Bee. I want you. I never stopped.”

  Covering her mouth with his, the kiss began soft and slow, a questing of lips alone, brushing and grazing tenderly, tasting the lip gloss she wore with a soft hum that she returned. Unhurried, he carefully built it, giving her every opportunity to pull back. He tried not to give in to the fear swelling inside him that she might not want him, but with every touch, he begged for a chance to take this farther, to prove what she meant to him. Trust me, Bee.

  Slipping his thumb up along her jawline, he traced the corner of her mouth, moving to follow the soft caress with the tip of his tongue. Kissing across her cheek to her temple, he pressed his mouth there, whispering, “My memory failed me, Bee. What I’ve been holding onto wasn’t this. This is so much more—exquisite.” He kissed her again. “Exceptional.” Caressing her cheek, he brushed his knuckles across her skin. “Far superior to my memories. God, Bee. What else is waiting for me on memory lane? What do you have waiting for me, honey?”

  Placing his mouth next to her ear, he traced the shell with the tip of his tongue, then pulled her earlobe into his mouth, tenderly nibbling, listening to her breath catch and then speed up. She wants this, he t
hought, wants me. Gliding his hand down her neck to her shoulder on one side, he matched the movements with his mouth on the other, kissing across her collarbone to the point of her shoulder, then back to her neck. He groaned his approval when she arched into him, tilting her head to grant him greater access and he worked his mouth across her skin, gratified to hear the soft noises she made.

  “Bee.” His voice was rough, the urgency of his need laid bare when he whispered her name. Bringing his mouth back to hers, he kissed her deeply, demanding a response. Leaning forward, he dipped into her mouth, finding her more than ready to work with him. Her tongue sliding along his, hungrily fighting for contact as her moan filled the cab of the truck. He swept his tongue across her lower lip, biting and nibbling softly, slowly pressing deeper as she opened to him.

  With a groan, he slanted his head, control slipping for a moment and he feverishly kissed her, sucking on her tongue and eating at her as if he had been starving since the last time she’d given him this, given herself to him. Her soft whimpers and frantic movements under his touch brought him back to himself, even as he struggled for a moment to reel it in, wanting more. So much more. Fuck. Slow it down, he thought. Releasing her, he brought both of his hands up, cradling her face and using that trembling grip to break the kiss. Breathing hard, he tucked his chin towards his chest, resting his forehead against hers.

  Fuck.

  When his eyes opened, she looked dazed, staring at him and he dropped down to kiss her again. This time, he took it slower, keeping his eyes wide to gauge her reactions. He groaned again when he saw profound desire in her expression, as dilated pupils and panting breaths showed the need surfacing in her, too. His whispering voice was hoarse with passion when he said, “No secret here, Bee. I want you. Never stopped wanting.”

  She inhaled shakily and whispered, “Me, too.”

  Surprised, he froze for a moment, then one corner of his mouth crooked up into what he knew was a grateful smile. Playfully wrinkling his nose at her, he sought confirmation of what he hoped was happening. “Does this mean our memory lane is a two-way street?” She nodded again, lips first pursing then flattening as she drew them into her mouth. “Okay, Bee,” he said, brushing his lips across hers, gently pursuing her before drawing back.