Beard Mode (The Dixie Warden Rejects MC Book 1)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “You’re going to die of heat exhaustion in that,” I pointed out.

  Davis shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Just be forewarned that you might get hot,” I told him. “And take a bottle of water.”

  Instead of arguing, Davis went to the fridge and collected his water, causing my mother to look at me with raised eyebrows.

  I shrugged.

  I don’t know, I mouthed.

  But I did kind of know. He’d been acting differently since the day Aaron had told him to stop throwing a fit. It’d been like night and day. Now he was just acting like a normal nine-year-old instead of a spoiled brat who threw a fit when he didn’t get his way.

  “All right, Gen.” My mother picked up her purse. “We’re going to go. Let me know if I need to pick something up for dinner or not.”

  I opened the door to the apartment and followed them into the hallway.

  “I will,” I told her. “I’m feeling Chinese.”

  “Love Chinese,” came the rumbled announcement from directly beside me.

  I blinked and turned to find Aaron standing there, his chest nearly touching my elbow.

  How I’d not seen him was beyond me, but now that I did see him…wow.

  “You look spiffy,” I told him.

  Spiffy?

  What are you, Imogen? Twelve?

  Aaron’s lips twitched as he closed his apartment door with one hand.

  “Bye, dear,” my mother called as she topped the stairway. “Let me know if I need to pick up Chinese.”

  My face heated.

  “Don’t forget to keep an ear out for him,” Aaron instructed as he pulled out keys from his pocket. “I’m leaving the apartment unlocked. Just in case you need to go in, which I don’t think you’ll need to do, but still.”

  I nodded my head. “I’ll watch out for him. Should I let him outside? Are you going to be back any time soon?”

  He pursed his lips. “I don’t know, but he should be just fine. He’s five years old. He should be able to go hours.”

  “Okay,” I murmured.

  Aaron curled his hand around my head, ran his work-roughened finger over my cheekbone, and backed away before retreating down the hallway.

  My body was still stunned into stillness. I could still feel his touch on my cheek. Could still smell his cool breath. Could still feel his body’s closeness to my own.

  And, sweet baby Jesus, did I want that man.

  I’d wanted him for a long time, but now that he was older. Now that he was a man instead of a teenager…it nearly set me on fire with want.

  “Calm your tits, Imogen,” I murmured to myself. “Control yourself and your urges.”

  Licking my lips, I walked back into my apartment and closed the door, immediately walking to the window and looking for him in the parking lot.

  I found him mounting his bike, his dark washed blue jeans hugging that delectable ass perfectly.

  And the black t-shirt was just as amazing as the pants.

  Then he had to go and pull out his cut, the leather vest that denoted him as a Dixie Warden, and I nearly moaned.

  I wasn’t normally attracted to bad boys. In fact, I was all about the safe ones. The ones I knew wouldn’t hurt me.

  But there was just something about that man that screamed trouble, and I was ready to dive headlong into it. Into him.

  I was just about to pull away from the window when he did something strange.

  It started with him placing his hand across his face. Across the side with the scars.

  Then he tugged lightly on his beard.

  A beard that surprisingly grew over his entire face, despite him likely having damage over that part of his face as well.

  His shoulders hunched, and his head dropped, causing my heart to lurch.

  He looked defeated.

  Almost as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and he didn’t want to be.

  He looked like that a lot. More than a man that beautiful and funny should.

  My mother’s car pulled out of the lot, momentarily catching my attention, and when I looked back it was to find Aaron staring directly at me.

  Thank God he didn’t find me staring at him. I knew he could see me clearly. Just as clearly as I could see him.

  Luckily, my eyes had been diverted.

  I waved, and a smile kicked up the right side of his mouth.

  Forcing myself to back away, I turned and studied the apartment.

  I really didn’t want to be here.

  I’d intended to go to the shop and work for a little bit, but then he’d ask me to keep an eye on the dog, and I’d inadvertently benched myself for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

  With nothing else to do, I went to the freezer and pulled out my dirty little secret.

  An ice cream sandwich.

  Those things were the absolute bomb, and I hated myself for eating as many as I did.

  Once I’d peeled the paper off, I started to pick up Davis’ toys, piling them in a bucket, and contemplating throwing the entire thing out in the dumpster.

  He’d never notice.

  My mother spoiled him.

  If he wanted it, my mother got it for him.

  He was her first grandbaby, of course, so wasn’t that how it was supposed to go?

  She’d also been one of the contributing factors to why Davis was an asshole.

  Sure, he was kind…now.

  Before Aaron had spoken to him, he’d literally been the devil. I’d wondered if he was going to ever grow out of the little temper tantrums he threw.

  He was nine, after all.

  But after Aaron, he’d become a good kid.

  He was still messy as hell, but he wasn’t purposefully argumentative any longer.

  After taking the last bite of my ice cream sandwich, I contemplated getting another one when I started hearing sounds.

  I ignored it for a long while. Turning on the radio, I focused on cleaning the pigsty of an apartment up.

  I was on my second sweep of the apartment when the radio finally went silent, enabling me to hear the sounds that were still filling the apartment.

  At first I thought it was the neighbors. They were in a band, and there were times I would hear them playing songs or their instruments.

  Then the howling started to come into sharper focus, and I realized that there was no way that that sound belonged to the band next door.

  No, it sounded like a dog!

  But my neighbors didn’t have…

  I flew into action, running to the front door and throwing the thing open so hard that it slammed roughly against the wall.

  The moment I got the door open, the howling became even clearer.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  “What is that sound?”

  I turned to the neighbors, the ones in the band, and apologized.

  “That’s Tank,” I explained. “He’s a Police K-9 that our neighbor is watching.”

  He was watching him, right? Wouldn’t the police need their drug dog?

  I never got the full story.

  “Can’t you shut him up?” Cody asked.

  I glared at him.

  “You’re one to talk,” I snapped. “You play your guitar until ungodly hours in the morning, and you’re going to complain about a dog that’s barking at two in the afternoon on a Saturday?”

  “Yes.” Cody nodded his head. “I am. I have a gig tonight. In two hours, actually.”

  I growled.

  “Go away and let me see if I can calm him down.”

  “I have a key if you want to go in there,” Cody said.

  My brows furrowed. “Why do you have a key?”

  “The tenant before him was part of the band before he moved away. Used to feed his fish on the days he was out of town,” Cody explained.

  I thought about it for a momen
t.

  Surely going inside to comfort him would be better than talking to him through the flimsy door, right?

  “Okay, give it to me. If I can’t get him to calm down through the door, I’ll go in and talk to him.”

  The door was unlocked, but I didn’t want Cody to have a key to Aaron’s apartment.

  “You’re acting like it’s a human. It’s a dog, woman,” Cody informed me.

  I ignored his comment.

  “Key?” I asked impatiently.

  Cody disappeared in his apartment, leaving it open wide enough that I could see inside.

  The place looked like a cesspit.

  Old drink cups from every place he’d ever eaten at in the last month littered chairs, tables and the floors when there wasn’t enough space on the table. Trash was strewn around the floor, and I was fairly sure he had enough dirty laundry all over the place to fill all three of the huge ass washers and dryers that were downstairs for the tenants.

  The howling started to get worse, and I could hear a loud banging following each howl, making my heart start to pound.

  Cody went to the kitchen, which I could see was also in need of cleaning, and rummaged through what was likely his junk drawer before coming up with a key on a keychain that was more than likely a marijuana leaf, though I couldn’t confirm since I wasn’t exactly sure what a marijuana leaf looked like.

  “Here,” he said, his gaze falling to my chest as he handed it over.

  I took it, resisting the urge to cover myself.

  I wasn’t dressed poorly.

  In fact, I was in tight jeans that were definitely worn in, and a black camisole.

  I was also wearing black socks with the Superman symbol dotted on them, but I was fairly sure it wasn’t my feet that Cody was focusing on.

  “Thank you,” I told him. “Call…”

  Before I could finish asking him to call 911 if he heard me screaming, he slammed the door, and I glared at it.

  Thinking ahead slightly, I walked back into my apartment, slipped my feet into my new boots that I’d only worn once, and snatched my phone and keys off the entranceway table along with the leash we used to have for my mom’s dog who died two years before.

  Maybe if I took him for a walk, he’d be able to work out his restlessness.

  With resolve straightening my spine, I walked out my apartment door, closed it, and then headed across the hall to Aaron’s door.

  The dog was still howling, but the banging had stopped.

  Twisting the handle, I waited and listened.

  Nothing.

  Not knowing what I would find when I opened the door, I cautiously pushed it open and winced when I saw the destruction.

  The couch was in tatters.

  Almost as if he’d shredded it first before he started the howling. There’d been no lessening in intensity of his howling, even now.

  With the door open, the sound was even louder. And sadder.

  The sound was soul-wrenching.

  It was as if he was mourning.

  Which, likely, he was.

  Dogs were way more intelligent than anyone gave them credit for, and Tank was probably more intelligent than some people.

  “Tank,” I whispered. “Here, boy.”

  Tank didn’t pause from his howling.

  He was facing the window, his head thrown back like a wolf.

  “Tank!” I called louder this time.

  Tank paused, turning only his head to look at me, and dismissed me almost as fast.

  “You want to go for a walk?” I called to him.

  His howl broke off mid-song.

  Immediately he got to his feet, and obediently walked over to me.

  With false security, I clicked the leash onto his collar and started to walk to the door.

  It didn’t happen when I closed the door behind us, pocketing Aaron’s key.

  It also didn’t happen when we made our way down the stairs.

  In fact, we were all the way outside and walking toward the park when he pulled free of my hold.

  He started to run, full out at first, but quickly stopped to let me catch up.

  The moment I got close enough to get the leash, though, he hurried away again.

  We played this game for a good long while.

  So long, in fact, that we were all the way in town before I finally got to him.

  By that point, I was panting, my feet were killing me from my new boots, and my breasts weren’t fairing too well in their braless state either.

  That’s when I became aware that not only was I standing in the middle of a fucking biker convention, but the ones that weren’t bikers were police officers. They were all staring at me as well.

  I picked up Tank’s leash, my intention to back away, when I felt the warm hand at my back.

  “What part of ‘talk to him through the door’ did you not understand?”

  I shivered.

  That voice, paired with his touch, had the power to undo me.

  It always had.

  Though, I’d only touched him one time, and one time only, in my younger years, it was enough to leave a very lasting impression.

  Though, it hadn’t been much of a touch. More like a brush of his arm against mine as we passed at a party one night.

  “Ummm,” I murmured, trying to make my tongue work. “The part where you forgot to tell me he would try to break down the wall if I didn’t let him out.”

  The hand at my back spasmed.

  “He didn’t touch my books, did he?”

  I thought back to the living room, remembering what it’d looked like before I’d left, and shook my head.

  “No.” I turned so I could see him. “But your couch is a different story.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Give me the leash.”

  I handed it to him, and he looked down at the pink rhinestone encrusted monstrosity.

  “What the fuck kind of leash is that?” someone asked from beside me.

  I looked up to find a tall man with jet black hair, deep blue eyes, and a scowl on his face looking at me.

  Oh, and let’s not forget the monster tattoo on his neck. Or the other tattoos that were spotted over the rest of his body in various places.

  He looked like he’d handed some kid a marker and let them go to town on all the random tattoos all over his body…and maybe he had.

  I doubted it, but it was possible!

  I was all for tattoos, but this man’s were…vibrant.

  “It’s one of our old ones,” I murmured. “When he was howling, I didn’t know what to do. The tenant next to us was complaining and considered calling the cops. So I did what I had to do.”

  My reply sounded defensive, and maybe it was.

  Anybody would be defensive when it came to about ten thousand people staring her down, the majority of which being cops or bikers.

  Well, maybe ten thousand was exaggerating.

  There were more like a hundred, but still.

  “Why can’t we take him home with us, Downy?” a woman sniffled. “He doesn’t even know him.”

  The woman looked vaguely familiar.

  “He doesn’t even know you, baby.” The large—and by large, I mean muscular, not fat. Not in any way, shape, or form—redheaded Downy said gently. “The last time you saw him was two years ago.”

  “I don’t understand why Mom isn’t keeping him.”

  Then understanding hit.

  This was Memphis, Stone’s daughter. The one that left a couple of years ago and then married a Kilgore SWAT officer.

  “I can’t, honey.”

  That was the widow, Mei.

  And God, did she look terrible.

  Her face was haggard.

  The normally pretty and upbeat woman looked rundown, as if she’d lost everything over the last couple of days.

  Which she had.

  She’d lost her husband
.

  A man who was vital to the community that we lived in. One who would be missed greatly by everyone.

  But not more than the woman would miss her husband.

  “Why not?” Memphis turned her head and rested it against her husband’s chest.

  “Because Tank belongs to the city,” a big man replied.

  That was Big Papa. Everyone knew him. A cop. A biker. A volunteer coach for the town’s little league.

  “That’s just bullshit,” Memphis snapped, fire entering her eyes. “He’s a freakin’ dog, not a car. I’d never ask for his police cruiser. But Tank was his dog. He lived in y’all’s house. This isn’t right.”

  No, it didn’t sound like it was right.

  But I understood.

  Everyone did.

  K-9’s weren’t cheap to train, nor were they cheap to obtain.

  I remembered reading in the paper about the day that the city got Tank. He was just shy of two years old, and had cost upwards of twenty thousand dollars. The city had gotten a grant, and had then purchased not just the dog, but the special vehicle that could transport the dog.

  One that was decked out with a special kennel for Tank, as well as having certain amenities that the dog could utilize while on shift. The rugged pull that would allow him to close his own door. The bulletproof and stab proof vest. The neck guard. The training that he had to continue to utilize.

  The list was lengthy.

  From the article I remembered reading, I also recalled something about the dog not being able to be transferred to anyone but another certified K-9 officer that the city employed.

  Why I remembered all this, I didn’t know.

  It’d been a big deal for our small town at the time.

  “Regardless, he’s only four years old, and has a lot of work time left in him,” Downy tried to soothe his wife. “You know Mocha would go nuts if she couldn’t work. And she also doesn’t share.”

  A couple of the men around him laughed, and I realized that I might’ve missed something funny.

  Since I wasn’t understanding the joke anyway, I let my eyes wander, which was why I realized that the dog was no longer where he was supposed to be.

  “Umm,” I nudged Aaron with my elbow. “Where’d Tank go?”

  Aaron lifted the leash, with the collar dangling from the end of it, and cursed.

  “Try the…”

  “The hearse.”