by Lacey Black
“Okay.”
“What would you like?”
Well, isn’t that the loaded question? I find myself wanting more than I probably should when my sexy neighbor is around. He’s arrogant and cocky, but I’m drawn to him just the way I was to all of the bad boys in high school.
“A double with everything and fries. Cheese on the side. Oh, and a cherry cock.” Realization sets in, causing my cheeks to flame for the second time in a short period of time. “I mean Coke!”
Oh. My. God.
Leaning down, Linkin looks me square in the eye. “Anytime you want it, sweetheart.”
My cheeks burn under the fluorescent lighting, but I can’t seem to look away. I feel his gaze burning through my eyes, down my face, and into my soul.
Without waiting for a reply, he heads up to get in line to place our order. I, on the other hand, consider slipping out the door and running as far away as I can get. Guam, perhaps? But then reality slaps me upside the face. The man knows where I work and lives next door to me. Chances of another encounter are pretty damn good, you know?
Sighing, I take a seat at one of the remaining tables. To occupy my time until our food is ready, I check my phone. Two texts from Chris that I ignore and an email from my attorney. All things that can wait until later tonight, after I’ve had a glass of wine and am better prepared to deal with his brand of drama.
Linkin sets a tray of food down on the table and pulls out the chair across from me. He looks so large in the average sized chair, which makes me wonder how tall he is.
“Six four.”
“What?” I ask as he sets a wrapped burger in front of me.
“You asked how tall I was. Six four.”
I said that out loud?
“Yes,” he answers with a smile.
“Stop that,” I command, though he didn’t really do anything wrong. It’s the way he’s smirking at me, like he can read my thoughts or something. I don’t like it.
“How long have you been doing hair?” he asks before shoveling half of his first burger into his mouth. Chris had impeccable manners. Not only would he not eat here, but he wouldn’t shove his food into his mouth like it’s the first food he’s eaten in days.
“Since I was twenty. I went to cosmetology school after high school and started with Barb as soon as I graduated. What about you?” I ask while taking a much smaller bite of my burger.
“What about me?”
“I don’t know what you do.”
“I’m a mechanic at Stapleton by day and I tend bar at Lucky’s a few nights a week.”
“I thought you looked familiar.”
“I’ve seen you there a few times. With your sisters. How many of them?”
“Six total. Payton, Jaime, AJ, Meghan, and Abby’s my twin.”
“I’ll never remember that.”
“I don’t expect you to. It’s not like you’re going to be hanging out with them,” I state, kinda feeling like a bitch for being so blunt and cold to him.
He doesn’t seem fazed, though. Linkin just smiles at me from across the table before sticking a handful of fries into his mouth and slowly chewing. How he can chew with a smile on his face is beyond me.
After our food is gone, I glance at my watch. It’s five to one. “I need to get back.”
“Me too. My lunch is over in five,” he says while collecting the trash and dumping it in the garbage can.
“You don’t have to walk me back,” I tell him as we step outside and head towards the salon.
“My bike is there,” he says, pointing to the bike parked across the street from Hair Haven.
“Oh.” We quietly walk towards my work. “You have a bike?”
Oh. Em. Gee! Could he get any hotter? A freaking bike? I think my panties just melted.
He chuckles next to me and replies, “Yeah.”
My eyes slip back to the bike and I can’t help but wonder if he’d ever give me a ride. I haven’t ridden since I used to sneak out of the house in high school, and even then, my dad would have had a heart attack if he knew about the motorcycle rides.
“Anytime.”
“What?” I ask, stopping in front of the salon door.
“Anytime you want a ride. Just say the word.” Those chocolate eyes roam over my face and slide down my front, making my entire body spark with sudden desire and need.
“Am I speaking out loud or can you read my thoughts?” I ask quietly, watching the way he watches me.
Bending down until his mouth is beside my ear, he replies, “You’re not that hard to figure out, Firecracker. Underneath that tough, feisty exterior is a woman who wears her heart on her sleeve and shows her emotions on her face. But you have to look to see it. You have to look beneath that glare and that badass persona you hide behind.” He runs his nose against my jaw causing my entire body to shudder. “I see it, though. I see you.”
And before I can formulate a smart ass response, he’s gone, walking away from me and crossing the street. When he reaches his bike, he slides on and fires up the motor. It rumbles deep and loud, causing a chill of excitement to race through my blood. His boot flips the kickstand and he maneuvers the beast of a bike onto the road. When he’s directly across from me, he glances at me from behind a pair of dark glasses. I know because I can feel his eyes on me.
I wave before he turns his attention back to the road, giving it gas and taking off like a bat out of hell. My heart beats wildly in my chest as I watch until I can’t see him anymore. I can smell the gas and the burning rubber from where I stand. I can see the smoke lift from the mark he left on the street. I can feel the bad boy worming his way into my life.
But not my heart.
Never my heart.
Chapter Four
Linkin
I park my bike behind the shop with a smile on my face. Honestly, I had no clue Lexi worked at the hair place uptown, but I’m damn glad she does. I’m pretty sure I’ll never go to another barber or beautician as long as I live. Not now that I know what it feels like to have Lexi’s hands in my hair.
Holy shit, that was fucking hot.
I was already sportin’ a chubby just by being near her, but when she started massaging my head? And when she groaned? And then her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure? Mother of God, I swear I almost blew my load in my pants. I’ve never been so turned on during a haircut in my life. And that includes the time I was sixteen and the young new girl washed my hair and dragged her tits across my face.
Lexi just does it for me.
Even though I can tell she’s trouble, I can’t stay away. I want more time with her. The sound of her voice, the way she smells, the softness of her skin, I want to discover everything I haven’t even had the chance to wonder about yet. And I’m doing a shit-ton of wondering. Ever since running into her douche ex and then her in the hallway last Sunday, I’ve been wanting to know more about the fiery little brunette with the sexiest green eyes. No, I don’t want to know.
I need to know.
“Damn, look at you, pretty boy. Someone got a snazzy new haircut,” Jacob, the garage prick, says behind me. I’m gathering up my tools, gearing up to rebuild the Chevy big block 454 motor that’s going into the Nova on the lift. It’s a sweet-ass car that I wouldn’t mind owning, if I were actually able to buy it.
Jacob runs his mouth for a bit more, but I tune him out. He’s a year younger than me, a whopping twenty-five years of age, but you’d think he’s got decades on me. I’ve been working in a garage since I was old enough to hold wrenches, but this ass thinks he’s better than me because he’s been here longer. Even Ernie, the shop owner, knows the kid’s full of shit, and that’s why he’s still doing basic jobs like oil changes and tire alignments. He doesn’t get his hands on the big blocks and the tight front ends that the bad boys want.
Not like me.
“Did you see Ella while you were there?”
“What?” I ask, turning arou
nd and facing him.
“Ella. She’s hot. Just turned twenty-one. I think she wants me,” Jacob smirks while making lewd gestures with his hands.
“I wasn’t introduced to them, man. I was just there for a cut.”
“Who’d ya get?”
For some reason, I don’t want to tell him. If I knew any of the other two stylists that were there, I’d happily give him another name. There’s something about this guy that just rubs me the wrong way. Unfortunately, the only name I have (besides Ella) is the one I fantasize about. “Lexi.”
“Alexis? Damn, that bitch is fine too. I wish I grew hair faster; I’d get it cut every week. Show both of them a good time with ol’ Jacob.”
“Don’t call her that.” My ears burn red as I try to keep my temper in check.
“What?”
“Lexi. Don’t call her a bitch.”
“Sorry, man. What? You doin’ her? I heard she left the stiff she was married to. She’s probably looking to bang every cock in town. Bitches on a tight leash always go buck wild when the shackles are gone, man. Heard she was a wild one in school.”
Just the thought of Lexi with other men makes my blood pressure elevate. It’s embarrassing the impact she has on me. Hell, even just the thought or mention of her gets me all worked up.
“Whatever you say, man,” I say before turning and grabbing my impact driver.
“No, seriously. When we were in school, she dated all the bad boys. Not like her sister. She was quiet and read a lot. Great ass, though. Not my type, but I’d still tap it.”
“You might not want to let her boyfriend hear you say that,” I quip, positioning myself at the open hood of the Nova.
“Levi? Yeah, I heard they were together. He’s a lucky son of a bitch. That ass, man. Mmmmmm,” he draws out, my fist itching to connect with his jaw. “I’d like to bite it. But seriously, you tapping Lexi? She’s probably dynamite in bed, dude. You hit it, you gotta tell me, ‘kay? Maybe I’ll go up there and get a cut too. I bet she’d love to blow my mind right about now,” he adds, adjusting his crotch and flexing his hips.
I’m spinning around and pinning him to the side of the Nova before he even knows what’s happening. My forearm has his shirt and neck pinned and my legs have his caged in. “What the hell, dude!”
“Listen to me, you little prick. Quit talking about Lexi and her sister like they’re a piece of fucking meat. Show a little respect.” I lean my weight into his body to show him that I’m not messing around.
“Sorry, dude. Didn’t mean no disrespect. I didn’t realize you were hittin’ it, ‘kay?” he says. “Jeez, you don’t have to be so touchy.”
“I’m not hittin’ it. Your ass would be knocked the fuck out on the ground if I were. I just don’t want to hear you running your trap about them, okay?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly, adjusting his shirt and taking a retreating step away from me. “Yeah, got it.”
Turning my attention back to the car, I get to work. Jacob pisses me the hell off pretty much all the damn time, especially when he’s running his mouth about women. But when he mentioned Lexi and her sister, I saw red. See? This is why I should stay the hell away from her. She gets in my head and messes with me. All I want to do is reach out and grab her, holding her close.
Preferably naked.
* * *
My phone rings just as I’m clocking out to head home.
Mom.
“Hey, Mom,” I say in way of greeting as I walk towards my bike. It’s starting to cool off already, the sun starting to drop behind the trees. Even for November, the weather is somewhat mild, which is why I’ll ride my Harley as long as possible.
“Hey, Link. Done with work?” she asks, a screech from one of the boys echoing in the background.
“Just heading out to my bike.”
“I hate that thing. It’s dangerous,” she tells me for the ten thousandth time. No more dangerous than the drinking, drugs, and gambling that got us into the fucked up situation we’re in now. Of course, I’d never say that to my mom.
“So what’s up?” I ask, steering the conversation towards safer ground.
“Uhh, I was called in to work. Someone called off, and you know, I could really use the money.” Mom’s working at the café part time, but has been able to grab extra shifts every now and then. She’s the first one on the list to go full time when a position opens up. In the meantime, she’s cleaning houses while the boys are at school, just to pull in as much extra cash as possible.
“I can run home and grab the car. I’ll be there in fifteen,” I tell her, throwing my leg over the bike.
“You’re off tonight, right?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “See you in a few.”
She signs off and I clip my phone onto my belt. Without waiting for the Harley to warm up, I throw it in first and take off towards my place.
So much for a nice, relaxing night off. I’m about to be terrorized by two eight-year-old mini-mes with a chocolate milk and chicken nugget addiction.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling my old Blazer into Mom’s driveway and stopping with my ass end sticking into the street so I don’t hit the bikes lying at the end of the drive.
“Knuckleheads,” I grumble as I head towards the front door. Before I raise my hand to knock, the door flies open.
“Link!” Jeff hollers before tearing through the door and jumping into my chest.
“He’s here,” Jack yells, sneaking around the side of the house and throwing himself on my back.
“Tweedledee and Tweedledum!” I exclaim, grabbing a hold and twisting them until one is in each arm. “Ready to go?”
“Yep!” the both exclaim in unison.
“Go pick up your bikes from the drive or Mom will run them over when she leaves,” I tell them, setting them down on the old porch. As I slip into the small, rundown house, I make note to grab some boards and fix the bad ones on the porch as soon as I can.
“Hey,” I holler as I step inside.
There’s minimal furniture, all well-worn and mismatched pieces. The living room has a small television, old floral couch that might have survived the seventies, and an ugly green recliner that smells like sweat and cheese when the temperatures get too hot. The only thing on the wall is an old portrait of the three of us boys, taken seven years ago when the boys were barely a year old.
“Hey,” Mom replies, stepping out in a pair of clean jeans, white tennis shoes, and a standard white polo shirt with the café logo on the front. “Where’d they go?” she asks, looking around the small living room.
“Outside to pick up their bikes. They left them at the end of the drive again.”
“One of these nights, I’m going to run one over.”
“Probably,” I confirm. “They’re not as well behaved and mild mannered as I was at their age,” I quip, holding back my smile.
Mom rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. You would have been jumping your bike off the front steps and riding with no hands in the street.”
That makes me laugh, mostly because I had done both on numerous occasions.
“Their bags are packed and book bags ready. Do you want me to come over in the morning and get them for school?” she asks, collecting her purse and apron.
“Nope. I can take them before I head to the shop.”
Her matching brown eyes are tired, showing just enough of the exhaustion I’m sure she feels. Long hours and raising twin boys alone, unfortunately, makes Mom look older than her forty-four years. I’m sure she survives on less sleep than I do, and even less food. She’d lost too much weight while we were in Westville, dealing with the aftermath of the boys’ father leaving. Now that we’ve all started new, she’s put a few pounds back on and eats a decent meal on nights she works at the café. The boys will always have enough to eat and will never know the lengths Mom goes, to keep them warm and healthy. I, on the other hand, have been old enough to see it for years.
And it fucking kills me.
“Well, their book bags are by the door with their overnight bags. They did their homework when they got home from school, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Okay,” I tell her, gathering up their bags and heading out the front door.
The boys are already in my car, Jeff pretending to drive, while Jack hangs out the passenger window, Dukes of Hazzard style. They talk to each other on the Ninja Turtle walkie-talkies I got them for Christmas last year. Well, Santa gave them. It’s one of the handful of gifts that I threw under the tree on Christmas morning so that the boys wouldn’t feel the disappointment of not having much to open on the one holiday that’s supposed to bring unlimited joy and happiness to a child’s life.
Shaking my head, I turn around and give Mom a big hug. “Make sure you eat a big meal on break and catch up on some sleep,” I tell her in my best son-knows-best voice.
“I will,” she replies with a smile and tears in her eyes. Reaching forward, she runs her hand along my jaw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I choke on the ball of emotion that lodged itself in the middle of my throat. She’s said this before – hell, tons of times – and every time it gets the same result. “You’d be just fine without me. You’re the strongest woman I know,” I tell her kissing her forehead.
“Don’t let them watch The Hangover again. Last time I had to explain what a hooker was,” she chastises with a raised eyebrow.
“Fine,” I reply with a hearty laugh. “Buckle up, knuckleheads. We’ve got a full night of shenanigans and debauchery to partake in,” I say just loud enough so Mom can hear.
“Yay!” they both holler in unison, diving into the back seat and sitting in their booster seats. They hate them, but I won’t let them ride in the old truck without them.
“Let’s go!” Jeff yells, pointing down the road.
“To de-batteryyyyyyyy,” Jack adds, big, dirty smiles swept across both of their faces.
Chapter Five
Lexi
My last appointment left shortly after seven, typical for a Thursday night. I always work late on this particular day of the week, which helps me slim back my schedule on Saturdays to only half days.
