MC ROMANCE: Wanted by the Alpha Biker (Motorcycle Club Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (MC Romantic Suspense Contemporary New Adult Short Stories)

by Alix Labelle

  “I knew it.” Jenny uttered a small shriek and tugged her back into the storage room. “Admit it. You have a thing for Tom Boone.”

  “I would like to have a thing,” Shay corrected. “But whenever I see him, he barely says a word to me.”

  “He always kept to himself when we were kids.” Her assistant grew thoughtful. “He was small for a while, too, the way some boys are. He got picked on because of it, but his brothers put a stop to that.”

  Shay mentally sketched Tom Boone’s body in her mind for the thousandth time. “He’s not small now.”

  “Yeah, it was quick with him. One summer he shot up and filled out, and suddenly girls were tripping over each other to get to him.” Jenny sighed. “But that was the year his folks were killed. I remember he was real close to his dad.”

  Shay regarded the younger woman. “Is there anything you don’t know, girl?”

  “I don’t know why you’re hankering for Tom Boone. You could crook your finger and every bachelor in this town would stampede in here after you,” Jenny told her. “Some of the married men would sneak on in, too.”

  “I’m curious, that’s all.” And frustrated, and lonely, Shay tagged on in her head. But what was the point of yearning for a man who so obviously didn’t want to be near her? “Come on, let’s get back to work.”

  For the rest of the morning Shay’s thoughts kept straying back to Tom Boone, however, and his solemn violet eyes. She’d never known a single man with such striking coloring, nor one who smelled so good. When he did speak, Tom’s husky voice always moved along her spine like an invisible caress. She’d never had a reason to touch him, but that was okay. Shay suspected putting hands on that cowboy would reduce her to a puddle of helpless, lovesick goo.

  When she took her noon break Shay decided to go to her favorite café for lunch. After walking in she saw one of Tom’s brothers having coffee by himself, and stopped by his table.

  “Hi, you’re Becca’s husband right?” She held out her hand. “Shay Larabee. Call me Shay, please.”

  “Chris. Nice to meet you.” The biggest of the Boone brothers politely rose to his feet before he gently shook her hand with his massive paw. “Rebecca Rose has told me how much she’s enjoyed that quilting class she’s taking at your shop.”

  “She has a great eye for color.” Shay thought it was charming how Chris referred to his wife by both her names. “Would you mind if I join you for a minute? I need some advice about one of your brothers.”

  “Absolutely.” The big man scowled. “I hope Caleb hasn’t been a nuisance. If he has, I’ll kill him for you.”

  Shay chuckled. “I haven’t met Caleb yet,” she admitted. “Actually it’s Tom. He came by my shop this morning.”

  “Tom? In a quilt shop?” Now Chris looked shocked. “Was someone holding him gunpoint?”

  “He was picking up an order for Dr. Cooper.” She sat back. “He won’t talk to me. Does he hate quilts? Or is it me?”

  The big man rasped a hand along his jaw. “Tom’s not much of talker, but he doesn’t hate anything, except maybe shoveling manure. I think it’s probably more nerves. Tom’s very shy.”

  “Really?” She’d never considered that.

  Chris nodded. “It was tough on him, being the smallest of seven brothers, and a late bloomer to boot. His body grew out of it, but I don’t think his head ever did. Don’t give up on him, Shay. Tom’s a good guy.”

  “He is. Just wish I could coax more than two words out of him.” Feeling a little embarrassed now, she got up. “Thanks, Chris.”

  As Shay walked over to the counter, she glanced back and saw a strange smile spread across Chris Boone’s broad face.

  Chapter Two

  “I really, really, appreciate this, Tom,” Jessa Cooper told him that Friday as she handed him the address in Helena. “I know it seems silly to exchange two hundred yards of white ribbon for two hundred more yards of slightly whiter ribbon, but my mother is a crazy woman.”

  “I am not,” Jessa’s mother called from the kitchen.

  Tom peered at the slip. “Last Chance Gulch in the downtown section. Yeah, I’ve seen the place. I’ll take care of it.”

  “You’re the best.” Jessa reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before she hurried off to the kitchen, where Buck was teaching Jessa’s mother how to make huckleberry pancakes.

  Tom looked in on Ethan, who was sitting with Jessa’s father and pretending to go over seating charts while they really talked about baseball. “I’m heading into the city. Anything you need while I’m there?”

  “Someone we can sit next to your Great Aunt Frances at the wedding,” Ethan said. “You remember her from Cousin Ethel’s fiftieth anniversary last year.”

  Tom thought for a moment. “About a hundred, wears bright red lipstick, smells like muscle rub, and likes to kiss ministers on the mouth?”

  “That’s her,” his brother said. “And no one wants to sit next to her, so please. Kidnap an old man if you have to.”

  Tom walked out to his pickup to see his youngest brother, Caleb, inside the cab and fiddling with his dash. “Now what are you doing to my truck?”

  “I hooked up that new mini-cam I got for Christmas,” Caleb told him. “We need them on all the vehicles, plus the balers. They can record any accidents, and pick up any signs of foxglove or pokeweed patches after we mow. Ethan won’t buy them until I can prove how good they are.” He slapped his shoulder. “You’re my guinea pig, bro.”

  “Great.” Tom climbed in and eyed the little device, which Caleb had clipped to the back of the rearview. “I can’t even see it.”

  “That’s the point.” His youngest brother grinned. “It sees everything, but you don’t see it.”

  Tom felt relieved when he finally got away from the ranch and on the road. He enjoyed the silence so much he didn’t even turn on the radio, although he did check Caleb’s mini-cam. His youngest brother surely loved his gadgets. Despite his odd notions, Tom thought Cal had some good ideas.

  Once Tom reached Helena he went directly to exchange Jessa’s ribbons at the florist supply shop, which took a few minutes. He then walked down to a custom furniture shop to look in the windows.

  Although the maple and oak pieces on display looked well-made, Tom’s sharp eye picked out a dozen imperfections and mistakes with the construction. Since he was a boy he’d had an affinity for wood, and making things out of it. Something about the feel of the grain under his hands made ideas jump in his head like popcorn. He’d built every single stick of furniture in his room, and made or repaired just about every other piece in the big house. With his brothers’ help he’d also put in the back deck and raised two barns of his own design.

  “We ought to be doing more of this,” his father had told him whenever they’d worked together on something in his big wood shop. “You’re a born carpenter, boy.”

  Tom had happily taken wood shop in high school, hoping to eventually get a job working as an apprentice to a real carpenter. Then his parents had died, and he’d put all his dreams aside to help Ethan keep the ranch going.

  Tom stepped back from the display window and glanced down the street. He’d have to look around for a place to have dinner before he started the long drive back to Ghost Lake.

  “Tom? Is that you?”

  He stopped in his tracks and turned around to see Shay standing behind him. “Ms. Larabee. What are you doing here?”

  “I always come to the city on Friday, remember? And it’s Shay.” She glanced at the bags of ribbon in his hands. “I know you’re not taking up floral design. Are those for Dr. Cooper?”

  He nodded, and felt the same old knot tightening in his chest as he tried to think of what else to say.

  Shay grinned up at him. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your truck.”

  On the way to the pick-up, Shay told him about her drive up to the city. This included a stop to watch a high school marching band competition, and a drive by a fragrant, colorful flower nursery. The mor
e she talked, the easier Tom felt. Shay was a born storyteller, and he had only to nod or smile as he listened.

  “I should head back now, but I’m starving,” Shay mentioned once he’d stowed the ribbon in his truck. “There’s a great little place a block over from here, too. I hate to eat alone, though. Do you like seafood?”

  “I love it,” Tom said, looking down at her pretty face and wishing he could kiss her smiling lips. “Let’s go.”

  #

  Shay surveyed the huge pile of shells on the newspaper-covered table between her and Tom. “Did we just eat two bushels of steamed crab?”

  “I think you did.” Tom held up a crab claw. “Last one. Want to arm wrestle me for it?”

  She laughed. Over the last two hours Tom had finally abandoned his shyness and started talking back to her. Now he was joking with her as easily as if they’d known each other for years.

  “I’d better not,” she said. “Much as I love crab, I’ll probably break your arm.”

  “I think you would.” He expertly snapped the claw and popped out the snowy white meat, but divided it and held out half. “Here. For being generous.”

  Shay leaned forward to snap it from his fingers, but instead parted her lips and let him feed her the piece. She looked in his eyes as she did, and saw the way he was watching her mouth.

  “Thank you,” she murmured after she chewed and swallowed.

  His dark violet eyes gleamed. “You’re welcome.”

  Shay sighed happily as she finished her sweet tea. “That was amazing. The best meal I’ve had since I don’t know when. I’m so glad I ran into you.” That reminded her. “Were you looking to buy some furniture from that store?”

  “No, I was just looking at it. I do a bit wood-working in my spare time.” His smile faded. “Not that I have a lot of that.”

  “You make furniture, too?” When he nodded she felt impressed. “That’s not an easy hobby.”

  “Wood has two sides to its nature,” Tom told her. “It wants to go together, and it wants to be apart. You just have to convince it to fit instead of git.”

  Shay chuckled. “Sounds a bit like you, Mr. Boone.” She took out her wallet as the waitress brought their check, and then scowled as Tom gave her his credit card. “Hey, we were supposed to split the bill, remember?”

  “If we did, I couldn’t call this a date.” Two men arguing in low voices nearby made Tom frown in their direction.

  Shay followed his gaze. “Wow. That guy looks like that councilman they caught stealing from the city – Bramson?”

  “Yeah, I think it is.” Tom’s smile returned as he looked at Shay. “Why don’t you be a good politician and let me pay for dinner?”

  “So you can call it a date?” she teased.

  He nodded. “If it’s not a date, I can’t kiss you good-night.”

  Shay felt all the air in her lungs evaporate. “You planning on kissing me, Tom Boone?”

  He watched her eyes as he signed the charge slip the waitress brought and then stood. “Come and find out.”

  Shay took the hand he offered her, and tucked her arm through his as they walked out of the restaurant. “What if I give you the money for dinner?” she teased. “Can I call you my date, and do what I want to you?”

  Tom chuckled as they stopped in front of his pickup. “I’d have to know what you have in mind for me, ma’am.”

  “Well.” Shay gathered up her nerve as she turned to him, and took his hands in hers. “It’ll start with a kiss, but I won’t say good-night.” As another couple passed them, she made a face. “Not here, though. Someplace, ah, more private.”

  “Okay.” Tom caressed her cheek. “You can pay me later. Get in the truck.”

  Shay felt as if she might burst with excitement as Tom drove from the restaurant to a deserted park, when he parked next to an empty sedan. When he turned to her she climbed out and beckoned to him.

  “Come on,” she urged. “I know a more private spot.”

  Shay led Tom over to the old iron fountain hidden among an evergreen thicket. Crickets chirped, and some night-blooming blossom scented the air, adding more romance to the private little spot.

  Once they sat down on the little bench there, he glanced around them. “How did you know about this?”

  “When I first found it I followed the sound of the water,” she told him, and laced her fingers through his. “You can sit back here for hours and no one ever sees you. Plus it’s really pretty during the day.”

  His gaze moved to her face. “You’re prettier.”

  Shay scooted a little closer. “If you don’t kiss me right now, Tom, I’m going to jump on you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” His strong arms plucked her off the bench and sat her on his lap. “Let me help you with that.”

  Shay linked her hands behind his neck as their lips met, and sighed into his mouth. A moment later he was tasting her, and then taking her mouth with hard, hot hunger. Shay’s hands twined in his thick hair, and she felt his palms stroke down her back to grip her hips.

  Tom finally broke off the kiss. “You’re making me forget where I am.”

  “You’re alone,” Shay whispered in his ear. “With me.”

  He touched his finger to her lips, and then ran it down over her chin to the hollow of her throat. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you.”

  “You should have taken that donut,” she told him, turning and straddling his lap. As soon as she did she felt the bulge of his erection press between her legs. “You know you wanted it.”

  “I wanted you.” His eyelids drooped. “But not as much as I do now.”

  Shay rubbed against him slowly, teasing him. “Do you want this, Tommy?” She leaned closer. “You can have it, right now.”

  He started to shake his head, and then went still as she lifted and reached down for his zipper. “Shay, what are you doing?”

  “I’m taking what I want.” She opened his trousers, and then curled her fingers around him. “Do you know where I want it?”

  Tom reached between her thighs, tugging aside her panties so he could stroke her wet folds. He tested her with one fingertip, circling her opening before he sank it inside her. “Here?”

  The penetration made her moan and tighten her grip on his shaft. “Yes. Right there.”

  Tom pushed another finger inside her and slowly pumped them in and out. “Like this?”

  She nodded, panting as she clenched around his fingers. “Oh, that feels so good.”

  He brought her face down to his to kiss her again as he played with her. Shay heard herself whimper as she stroked his thick length. With a shaking hand she brought the broad head of him to press against her wetness. Before she could get him inside her, Tom lifted her off his lap and set her aside.

  “Wait,” she protested as he zipped up his pants. “We’re just getting started here.”

  He tugged down her skirt. “I thought I heard something.” He studied her face. “I don’t want to do this out here, and it’s getting late. We both have a long drive ahead of us.”

  “But we don’t have to go back tonight.” Wishing she could tear open his shirt, she fiddled with one snap. “My family’s old house is just a few miles outside the city, and it’s sitting there empty. I stay there sometimes when I’m too tired to drive back.”

  He tipped up her chin. “So you want to stay there tonight, with me?”

  She nodded before she added, “Unless you’ve decided you don’t want this. Or me.”

  Tom hefted her in his arms as he stood and strode back toward his truck, moving so fast Shay began to giggle.

  A burst of gunfire shattered the air.

  Tom set her on her feet and shoved her behind him. “Hey.”

  Shay could see a man on the ground, and another stalking toward them and pointing a still-smoking rifle.

  “Run,” Tom told her.

  Before she could take a step, the man with the rifle tossed it to Tom, who caught it.

  “Tha
nks, pal.” The man took off, climbing into the sedan and speeding off.

  Shay stared after him, and then looked at the body and the weapon Tom held in his hands. “Why did he do that?”

  “I’m not wearing gloves like him.” Tom went over to the man on the ground and turned him over. “Stay there,” she told Shay when she approached. “You don’t want to see this.”

  Shay saw enough. “That’s the man from the restaurant. Councilman Bramson.” She looked over to see an elderly man walking his dog stop and stare at them in horror. “Tom, we have to call the police.”

  Tom came to her, took her by the arm and walked her quickly back to his pick-up. When she pulled away, he said, “He’s gone. We have to get out of here, Shay. Now.”

  “But we can’t go.” She glanced back at the body. “We have to tell someone -- explain.”

  “Explain what? Bramson’s dead. I have the murder weapon in my hands. We just had dinner at the same restaurant as the guy.” Tom tossed the rifle in the back of the cab. “And that old man is a witness. He’ll describe me to the cops.”

  Now Shay understood why the killer had thrown the shotgun. “Oh, no.”

  Tom nodded. “They’ll think I murdered him.”

  Chapter Three

  “After we moved to Wyoming my folks meant to sell the place,” Shay said as Tom drove around the back of the property and parked his pick-up inside the barn. “But they never accepted any offers. Not that anyone wanted to pay a lot for an old house in the woods. Tom, what are we going to do?”

  “We’ll figure it out.” He grabbed the rifle before he came around to open the door and help her down. “Let’s get inside.”

  The interior of the old two-story house still contained all the antique furniture Shay’s family had used during her childhood. Tom paused to switch on the main power breaker, and then checked the house phone line.

  “That won’t work,” Shay told him, and disappeared into the kitchen before she came back with two water bottles. She offered him one. “I keep some supplies and stuff here in case I want to spend the night. It’s silly, but I always feel safer here than at a hotel.”