by Jessie Cooke
“Yeah?”
“Hey, Weiner, it’s Ryder.” Francis T. Mahoney, or Weiner as he was called in the army, did his second tour in Afghanistan in Ryder’s unit, where Ryder also got his nickname. Like Garrett, Weiner was one of those friends that Ryder knew had been put in his life for a reason, and he was also another reason besides Garrett that Ryder had decided to go east. Weiner lost an arm in an IED explosion and Ryder had a lot of respect for him for not giving up. He was one of the hardest workers Ryder had ever met and he’d built the bar out of nothing into one of the most popular and successful in Boston.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I ain’t seen you in so long that I thought you died. I even asked Father McMurray to say a little prayer for your soul the last time I went to Mass.”
Ryder laughed. “I don’t think you should be wasting time having someone praying for my soul, you should think about your own.”
Weiner chuckled in that deep, gravelly voice of his. “Yeah, well, I guess neither one of us is a fucking choirboy. What the fuck you want, kid? I’m a little busy here.” Weiner was all Boston. He always sounded like he was mad and in a hurry.
“You hiring?”
“You need a job? I ain’t got nothing but a barmaid job open but I bet your ass would look fine in one of those little referee outfits.”
“As much as I know I’d look fine and you’d love looking at my fine ass all night, the job’s for a friend, and trust me, she’ll look hot in any uniform you give her.”
“She got experience?” She’d worked at 92 Proof for a week and Ryder had no idea what she did before that but with his fingers mentally crossed he said:
“Of course.”
“Send her in tomorrow with a resumé, I’ll hire her for you, but gotta make it look good to the rest of them, you know?”
“Thanks, man, I owe you one.”
“Right,” Weiner said. The day his buddy lost his arm, Ryder had killed two snipers and carried him to a safe place where the medics could stop the bleeding and transport him to the hospital. If not for him, Weiner would have died. The only time they ever talked about it was right after Ryder got out of the army and before he’d gone out to Vegas. He’d stopped to see his old buddy, whom he hadn’t seen since that day. Weiner had just bought the bar and they sat in the rundown old building and had a beer while he told Ryder his plans for it. When he stopped talking about his dream for a second he suddenly said"
“You know, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here. I can’t tell you how fucking grateful I am, man, but if you ever need anything...”
“Don’t worry,” Ryder told him with a grin, “I’ll ask.” This was the first favor he’d ever asked him for, but if he’d said no, Ryder would have let it go at that. He’d only done his job back in that Godforsaken place, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat to save a brother’s life.
He thanked Weiner again before ending the call. When he turned around, he found Storm standing in the doorway of the office with her arms folded. “That was a long conversation. What did he say?”
“I’m sorry, Storm, Dax is gonna let you go...”
“What the hell? He’s firing me? Why?”
“Something about an ex-boyfriend...”
“He thinks Denny did this? If he did, I’ll kill the little bastard with my bare hands.”
“Little bastard?”
“What?”
“You said ‘little bastard,’ is he a little guy?”
“He’s not big. What difference does that make? He’s been out of my life for two years and he’s still making me miserable.”
“It makes a difference because the guy I saw that night in the bar was at least six one, maybe six two, and pretty stocky.” She was shaking her head.
“Denny is not that big. He’s maybe five nine or ten at the most and he’s always been skinny. I mean, I haven’t seen him since he got out of jail and he was in there for two years, so he could have put on some weight, but I doubt that he grew. Can you tell Dax that?”
“Yeah, I will...but until they find him...do you know where he is?”
“No. I haven’t seen him since before he got locked up two years ago. He tried calling me a few times, but I ignored him. I didn’t even know he was out.” She looked away when she said that last part and Ryder knew enough about body language to know that probably meant she was lying. She knew he was out, so why lie about it? Damn, he didn’t want to be suspicious of her.
Ryder filed that away for now and said, “Well, at least I’m not all full of bad news.” She raised an eyebrow at him and he said, “I got you another job if you want it.” Ryder wasn’t sure if she was happy, sad, or pissed. She simply brushed past him and walked out to her car. He stood rooted to his spot until she looked back at him and said:
“You feel like getting drunk?” Ryder grinned. If it involved spending time with her, he sure as hell did.
5
Storm had no clue what she was doing. She was driving toward the city with a big, incredibly hot biker who she had been fantasizing about for a week sitting a foot away from her. The car was small, and he made it seem even smaller. She wondered what he was thinking, and she almost did something stupid like asking him but thankfully he spoke first.
“Nice car.”
She chuckled. “It’s a piece of crap, but thanks. And it’s not mine. It’s my mom’s car. I pretty much walk or take public transportation everywhere I go.”
“Oh, well, then I’ll be honest, it’s a piece of crap.”
Storm laughed out loud and said, “I appreciate your honesty.” She sighed then and said, “I also appreciate your help. I’m sorry if I don’t seem like it. This week has been a mess, to say the least. But you don’t have to get me a job, I can do that.”
“Okay, but if you want it, all you have to do is show up with a resumé tomorrow.”
She was curious, so she asked him about the job. The rest of the way to the city, he told her the details about the sports bar and talked about his friend, who seemed like he would be a cool boss. Although she wasn’t crazy about the idea of wearing a silly little costume that showed way too much skin and letting men ogle her all night, it would probably be a great place to make tips. She was going to have a lot of catching up to do, and then there was her mom, but she didn’t want to think about any of that right now. She just drove until they got off the Expressway downtown and then realized she wasn’t sure where she was taking them. She’d love to just take him home with her, but that would be too bold, wouldn’t it? She drove past a few bars and finally said, “Where do you want to go?”
He smiled. “I’m open to suggestions,” he said. “I don’t spend a lot of time in bars.”
“You don’t?” She didn’t mean that to sound so surprised, but he obviously picked up on it.
“You think that’s all us bikers do, huh? Drink, smoke, and carouse? I’m offended.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean...”
Ryder laughed. “I’m kidding. It takes a hell of a lot to offend me. We have a bar on the ranch and it’s just easier to drink and smoke there. Keeps us out of trouble. Sometimes walking into a bar wearing our colors is like throwing kerosene on a smoldering fire, you know?”
“Oh wow, well, I don’t want to get you into any trouble. There’s a liquor store around the corner from my apartment—we could just grab some beer and hang out at my place.” Dear God, what am I doing?
“Sounds great.”
Storm turned the car in the direction of home and then with a mischievous smile she said, “So you drink and smoke in the bar at the ranch, but you didn’t mention the carousing.”
Ryder looked like he was trying to pull off an innocent look. It wasn’t working. “I’m not, by nature, a carouser.”
Storm cracked up at that. “Yeah, right, I think we established the first time we met what your nickname meant. By the way, what’s your real name?”
“Conner Macintosh,” he said. Storm stopped at a red light and while they we
ren’t moving she studied his face. She liked his beard, but at the same time she wondered what he would look like without it.
“I guess you kind of look like a Conner.”
He chuckled and said, “Thanks, I guess you kind of look like a Stormy Waters.”
“Shut up, it’s a Native American thing.”
“I wasn’t making fun of it. I like it. You don’t look Native American,” he said. “You look like a white girl.”
She smiled and pulled the car into the liquor store lot around the corner from her house. “Dad’s Native American, Mom’s a white girl. I guess her genes were dominant. The light brown hair throws people, especially when I lived on the rez.”
“Did you grow up there?”
“Yeah. I just moved into the city this month, otherwise I lived there my entire life.”
“Your parents still live there?” They both got out of the car and she said:
“Dad passed away this past year. Mom lives with her sister off the rez now.” That was as much information she wanted to give about her mother, for now. “What about yours, are they still in California?”
“Yep, still there in the same house I grew up in. My brother lives about two miles away from them with his wife and kids, and my sister is at Berkeley, being a hippie or some shit.”
She laughed. They picked out a twelve-pack of beer and Ryder added a bottle of Jack Daniel’s Fire at the counter. The ride around the corner to her apartment was quiet. Storm was starting to get nervous and once again she wondered what he was thinking. Did he think she was just some slut that took guys home with her? Oh, shit! She hadn't even thought about having to take him back tomorrow—if they were going to drink, she couldn’t drive him back tonight. She wondered if it would be comparable to doing the walk of shame as she dropped him off and drove off the ranch. God, she was killing herself with these thoughts.
She parked in her spot, which she usually never used. Her mother had left the car because she’d gone into “hiding,” she called it. She blocked those thoughts again; she’d have to spend plenty of time later thinking about all that. It had been a hell of a week and tonight she really did want to have a few drinks, relax...and maybe have some of that hot, passionate loving Ryder had joked about. No, not maybe...She wanted him, badly. She got the feeling that he was the kind of man that didn’t often say no to sex...but would she be brave enough to make the first move?
It had been a long time since Storm had been truly alone with a man and the first half an hour or so, once they were inside, was awkward as hell. She offered him food and turned on the TV and switched through the channels like a crazy person. Ryder turned down the food and after a while he just reached over and took the remote out of her hand, changing it to an all-music channel and then putting the remote out of her reach.
“You got a shot glass or two?” he asked. She got up and got the shot glasses, when she came back he had pulled off his boots and his vest. “You don’t mind me getting comfortable do you? I figure if you’re gonna get me liquored up, you’re keeping me until morning, right?” Little did he know, liquor did not have to be involved for her to want to keep him...or maybe he did know. Surely he was used to women wanting him, so maybe she didn’t look as stupid—or desperate—as she felt.
“No, it’s fine,” she said. Take off the rest. She heard nervous, crazy laughter in her head. She was losing it.
Ryder opened the bottle of Jack and poured them each a shot. She picked hers up, and he said, “Wait, we’re gonna play a game.”
“A game?”
“Yeah, a get to know you game. I ask a question and you can either answer it truthfully or do a shot.”
She felt a tickle in the pit of her stomach. “How will you know if I’m being honest?”
He winked. “I trust you.”
“And I get to ask you anything?”
“Anything.”
“Okay, you go first.”
“When was the last time you had some loving?” Storm hadn’t expected him to come right out of the gate with that one. Did she want to tell him that it had been two years? Would he think she was some kind of freak? Without saying a word, she brought the shot glass to her lips and downed the fiery brown liquid. Ryder was laughing. “Wow, okay.”
“Shut up. My turn. When was the last time you had sex?” She couldn’t believe she’d just asked him that and as soon as the question left her lips, she wanted to take it back. She didn’t want to know when the last time was that he’d touched another woman. Maybe he wouldn’t tell her...
“What’s today?” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed, brought the shot glass to his lips, and downed it. She breathed a sigh of relief. She really didn’t want to know. “Okay, easy one,” he said. “When was your last serious relationship?”
“Two years ago.”
“Why so long?”
“That’s two questions—it’s my turn.”
He smiled and said, “Okay, but try being original...” She punched him in the arm, but he was right, she’d planned on asking him the same thing.
“Okay, I’ve got one. Were you surprised when I invited you out tonight?”
“Nope.”
“No? Why?”
He laughed. “That’s two questions,” he said, mocking her.
“Fine...” She had turned her head to the side and as soon as she did, she felt his warm breath on her cheek. She shivered as the heat traveled up toward her ear and then he leaned in and whispered:
“Because I’ve known that you wanted me since that first night.”
She had to clear her throat and her voice came out shakier than she’d hoped as she said, “Aren’t we full of ourselves?” His lips were so close to her ear that she was afraid to move. If he touched her with them, and she hoped he would, she didn’t want to have to worry that it was an accident. But she didn’t have to worry because he leaned in even closer so that his lips were touching the sensitive skin of her outer ear as he said:
“Maybe...a little...but I’ve wanted you since that night too.”
Storm waved goodbye to rational thought at that moment. Her hormones were in charge and she was happy to give her brain a rest and let them take over. She turned her head enough so that their lips met and as soon as they did, Ryder’s hands were on her body and his tongue was in her mouth, pushing against hers, licking and tasting every surface as he lightly, teasingly explored her curves with his big, calloused hands. He tasted like beer and the whiskey, and she knew that even without any alcohol in her system she would get drunk off that kiss alone. He was really good at it, better than anyone she’d ever kissed, for sure. It was passionate, but he also took his time. She was breathless when he broke the kiss, especially when he didn’t move his face back and they were eye to eye. His eyes were so intense, and they seemed to hold his every thought. Just then, if she was reading him right, his thoughts were all about devouring her...and she was all about consent.
“Would you like to go to the bedroom?” she asked.
He grinned and stood up, taking her with him as he did. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Shaking all over, Storm took the lead and Ryder wrapped his arms around her from behind and buried his face in her neck. She almost didn’t have the strength to make it down the short hallway. When they got there, she reached over with a shaky hand to turn on the light, but Ryder put his hand up to stop her. The moonlight was coming in through the shades and casting a sexy ambiance across the room, so she was glad he did. He spun her around and kissed her again, walking her backwards as he did. She braced herself for hitting the bed with the backs of her legs, but realized they had passed it when they were almost to the window. When they got there, he broke the kiss again and said:
“What’s out there?”
“A little yard,” she said, confused.
“Is it fenced?”
“Um...yeah...”
“Pull up the shades.” Still confused, she did as he asked. When the shades were up the room was f
looded with the light from the full moon. He smiled down at her, kissed her lips softly again, and said, “Take off these clothes. I want to see you.”
Storm was so nervous that she was almost sick to her stomach as she stripped, especially because he had those intense brown eyes focused on her the entire time. He scanned each piece of her, every strip of skin as she pulled off first her shirt and pants and then her bra and panties. When she finished, he ran his eyes over her one last time and said, “Fucking gorgeous.” She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say, but his compliment sent a warm glow through her body, and the glow began to burn even hotter when he started stripping off his own clothes.
He pulled off his t-shirt and Storm had to swallow, hard. His chest was cut, like he’d been chiseled out of stone. His arms bulged with muscles and his shoulders down to his elbows were covered in colorful tattoos. He’d been wearing long sleeves both times that she’d seen him, so she hadn’t seen them before. They seemed to be a mixture of military symbols and religious items like crosses and some kind of silver chalice. It was hot, and she couldn’t wait to put her hands on them. She dropped her eyes to his waist then. He had his belt undone and he was unbuttoning his pants. She saw him reach behind and the next thing she knew, he was holding a gun in his hand. She had no idea why, maybe the events of the week, but the sight of it sent a surge of panic through her and she gasped.
6
Ryder was so used to fucking club girls that it hadn’t occurred to him that the gun would scare her. He regretted just pulling it out as soon as he saw her face, and then she let out a strangled little gasp and he really felt bad. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” She was still staring at the gun and he said, “I’m just going to lay it over here on the dresser, okay?” He watched her nod, and he didn’t turn his back on her as he moved backward toward the dresser and set the gun down on top of it. When he went back over to her, he gently took her shoulders in his hands and said, “Are you okay?”
