by Shyla Colt
“Wait, is this going to be a repeating thing?” Evonne asked. A hushed silence fell.
“I think so. He made it pretty clear if I was looking for a one-night stand he wasn’t interested.”
“What?” The echoed statement exploded out of the speaker, making her wince.
“Tell me exactly what he said. I speak M.C.,” Joey said.
“M.C.?” Hilary asked.
“Motorcycle club, girl. I need to school you.”
“He mentioned something about an old lady,” Juliette said.
“Oh my god.” The squeal pierced the air and threatened to do the same to her eardrum.
“Jesus, Joey.” Juliette pulled down her earlobe.
“That’s like a wife, girl.”
“Whoa…that’s jumping ahead. We just made things official. Why would he want that with me? It doesn’t make any sense. ” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to form coherent sentences as her brain erupted with concerns like a volcano. Are we ready for this? The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.
“What did you do to that man?” Joey asked.
“N-nothing. He wouldn’t sleep with me until I agreed. How is that like a wife?” She licked her lips. Would he make demands now? Expect her to play maid and personal assistant? Stupid. Did I learn nothing?
“Listen, women love wild men, and motorcyclists are the cream of the crop in that category. There’s a plethora of hos, some who for all intents and purposes belong to a club. They hang out, clean the club and the mens’ clocks if they’re so inclined. They’re called sweet butts.”
“I’m well-versed on that.”
“Wow. Look at you, already stepping into your role,” Joey said.
“Well, fill us in,” Evonne said.
“A sweetie is someone they’re seeing and not just screwing. An old lady is serious shit. Some women don’t get that status after years of dating. You could wear his cut.”
“I think you’ve scared her into shock, Joey,” Evonne said.
“I-I had no clue. What—is he going to expect me to move in with him now?” Panic placed cracks in her perfect evening.
“No, nothing like that,” Joey assured. “Relax. You’ve been going at it for about a month and there have been no red flags. You know what to look for when it comes to douche bags in disguise.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I had no clue it was this serious, though.”
“Still, you knew it was semi-serious. Why agree?” Hilary asked.
“Because he moves me, turns me into goop, and treats me better than any man I’ve ever dated.” Juliette whispered honestly without hesitation. She found Shooter completely compelling and irresistible. He pulled her to him like a magnet.
“She’s so fucked.” Hil laughed.
“Hil. You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” Evonne scolded.
“Come on. The planner has it bad after one night. It’s funny,” Hilary responded.
“No, it’s terrifying. I step out of my comfort zone and I land neck-deep in a crazy subculture I know nothing about.” Juliette palmed the back of her neck, massaging away the tension. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m learning.”
“Emergency meeting, ladies,” Evonne chimed in.
“I’ll bring the Sons of Anarchy seasons,” Joey volunteered.
“I’ll bring food from Panera. Hang tight, Jul. We’ll be there in thirty.” They all disconnected, and Juliette placed her head in her hands.
What the hell was I thinking? Her heart beat like hummingbird wings. Could she get out of the old lady role if she wanted to? What would she tell Shooter? The hopeful expression in his eyes haunted her. If she bailed now she’d crush that look.
Kicking off her heels, she stepped down from the stool to walk the familiar layout. The woods behind her house had been the main selling point for her. After hurrying to the bedroom, she exchanged his sweatpants for a pair of blue-jean shorts and sneakers. Then she made the short walk to the woods onto her favorite path. Breathing in the scent of moss, flowers and rich soil, she calmed.
If she walked away now she’d always wonder, and wouldn’t it ruin all the forward progress she’d made? Placing a hand on her rolling stomach, she paused in front of a massive fallen log she often used for thinking. She went over her courtship with Peter in her mind. He’d been dazzling. Wealthy, attractive and charming as hell, he’d won her over by the second date. He’d been the perfect gentleman. A Ken doll come to life—until his darker side began to emerge. At first he’d passed it off as caring but that had quickly fallen away to reveal the monster that lurked beneath.
The old lady thing wasn’t binding. There was no paperwork or ring. Despite what the biker community might say, the world at large would be clueless. Pulling her shirt up over her nose, she inhaled Shooter’s manly sandalwood scent. She’d made her decision the moment she’d thrown caution to the wind and climbed on the back of a steel machine behind its tattooed driver.
Chapter Seven
Shooter strolled into the M.C. at fifteen ’til two. The smell of stale beer and leather greeted him as he walked up to the bar where Moose sat.
“Cutting it close, weren’t you?” Moose asked, eyebrow raised.
“Long night.” He sank onto the black stool beside Moose, tired but satisfied.
“Wait, you got the classy chick to go home with you?” Moose’s stunned voice made him smirk. “Miracles never cease.”
“Jesus, Moose, I’m not a scum bucket.” He sneered.
“No, but she seemed like diamonds and debutante material.” He held up a pinky.
“Probably is. I couldn’t give a shit and she doesn’t mind, so we’re good.” He flexed his jaw.
“Struck a chord?”
Shooter shrugged. “I hadn’t thought that far into it.”
“Damn, she got you off your game?”
A smile flitted on the edges of his lips as his chest filled with warmth. Wide, innocent and full of passion, her eyes had done him in. “Fucking slammed into me like a Mack truck.”
Moose chuckled and shook his head. “Now you see why I got my ass out of there. Classy chicks like that have a way of dragging the decency out of you.”
“You’re right about that, bro.” A tiny redhead walked over. “Can I get you a drink, Shooter? Maybe something else after the meeting?” She leaned forward, showing her cleavage. Usually Red hit the spot, but today he couldn’t be bothered. “Whiskey and Coke, and I’ll pass.” She gave a mock pout but stepped away to fix his order.
“Wow, you’re turning down Red? Shit is real.”
“It’s something,” he mumbled.
“You seem conflicted.”
“’Cause I’m wondering what the fuck I’m doing. She’s a librarian.”
“Okay, no offense, but that adds to her hotness factor, bro.”
“I know.” He growled. Fear wasn’t an emotion he experienced often, but this chick had him shaking in his boots. The last time he’d given his heart to a woman it’d backfired when he needed her most. His gut told him Juliette would be different. But she hadn’t seen the ugly yet. Red set the glass down, and he tossed it back, savoring the burn. The librarian and the biker sounded like some cheesy movie from the fifties.
The door in the back opened and Prez stepped out. At six-foot-six with a bulky frame, their president, who held the road name Tiny, had never been small in his life. Must have been why his father, the former Mayhem president, had labeled him with the small name from the start. Most of the Lords were born in, but there was the occasional prospect like Shooter, who made it in and climbed the ranks. “We ready to hold church?” Prez asked.
“You heard the man. Move your asses.” Moose went from carefree to all business as he stepped into his role as Mr. Secretary.
They all filed in to the room and Shooter sank into the leather chair away from the window, facing the door. Old habits died hard. Moose sat to his left and Rocky sat on his right. Across from him were Maverick and Ha
wk, with Tiny at the helm.
“Ready when you are, Tiny,” Moose said.
“This will be a short meeting. Right now it’s quiet and our focus is on padding the bank account. Rocky has a big fight coming up, so he’ll keep training. I want the sweet butts and the old ladies out there doing promo. Maybe we can come up with some events.”
“Lazy’s old lady has some kind of degree in marketing. I’ll get with him,” Maverick, their treasurer said.
“Good. How are the arms dealings going, Shooter?” As Sergeant in Arms, his job handled directional and safety issues during rides.
“Got a buy set up for next weekend with the boys down south. Never had a problem with them before and I’m not anticipating any bullshit. Their crew is a hell of a lot smaller and newer but they know their place.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Tiny nodded from his seat at the head of the large oak table. “Anyone got something to add?” He glanced around at the other members. “My old lady’s ready for some downtime. I’d like to give it to her.
They all chuckled. The one-woman cyclone Prez married had a temper you didn’t want directed at you. Though petite in stature, she had the personality of a hockey player and a mouth to match. Of course, that might have been due to her city of origin.
“All right I think we can adjourn this meeting. Keep your noses clean. We have a ride next Tuesday for the children’s hospital in town. Let’s raise some money for the kids, shake hands, do photo ops to prove we aren’t that scary and come back to party. The boys are about ready to blow off some steam.” There were murmurs of agreement.
“I’m calling the meeting at two twenty-five,” Moose bellowed as he brought down the gavel.
“Fastest meeting I ever been to,” Hawk said, his black brows drawn into a point.
“You wanted to stay longer and sing campfire songs?” Tiny asked.
“Just an observation.” Hawk shrugged.
“Careful, Moose, Hawk’s looking to jump ship.” Tiny snorted as they all stood from the table and made their way out of the room.
“You headed out now?” Moose asked.
“No, figure I could use a few more drinks and try to get my head straight.” Shooter rubbed his forehead.
“Hah. Good luck with the latter. The drinks we can provide you,” Moose said.
“Smart ass, sometimes I think they misnamed you,” Shooter said.
“I’m fine with Moose, thanks. Why do you think I always tell that story? Last thing I wanted to be stuck with was Mounty or some other lame Canadian reference.” Moose rolled his eyes.
“Clever.” Shooter tilted his head. People frequently underestimated Moose. It was the worst possible thing to do.
“I know, eh.” He grinned and flagged down Red for drinks.
Shooter loved his life—he just wondered if there was room in it for a woman like Juliette. She’d grown used to Moose and a few of the other more lighthearted brothers, but he’d never brought her to a club function. You already jumped the gun. It’s time to rip the Band-Aid off. This weekend I’ll bring her to a party and introduce her to Prez.
* * * * *
The phone jangled and the couch scooted forward as the girls all jumped. Sons of Anarchy was engaging, bloody, tense and full of scrumptious men. A glance down at her phone told Juliette that Shooter was calling as promised.
“Is it him?” Joey asked.
She nodded. “I’m going to take this out on the deck.”
“I bet you are.” Hilary winked. “Enjoy your real-life M.C. member.”
Answering the phone, Juliette tried to forget the gratuitous pictures of violence and scantily clad women who’d appeared on the television.
“Hey.” His deep timbre curled her toes in her sneakers.
“Hi,” she whispered, opening the sliding door and walking over to sit on one of the maroon-and-white cushioned lawn chairs.
“Are you still wearing my clothes?”
“Just the shirt.”
“Good. Wear it to bed tonight and nothing else.” Her sex tingled in anticipation. Focus. “Are you alone right now?” The words sent up a red flag.
“No, I have some friends over right now,” she said.
“When do you think they’ll head out?” His easy acceptance made her heart sing. There was no interrogation about who she was with or why they’d come to visit.
“Probably late, why?” She toyed with the cushions.
“I’m stopping by. I’m nowhere near done with you, Juliette. I told you that.”
“You did.” But I didn’t believe you. Her heartbeat speed. Words meant nothing. Right now Shooter was showing her his interest, and proving himself to be the man she thought him to be yet again. It’s like he has the blueprints to my heart.
“Keep your phone on. I’ll call you before I head over.”
“Okay.” She kept her tone steady, but inside she wanted to scream. He wants to see me again!
“Later, baby.”
“Bye.”
Dazed, she disconnected and stood. This is happening. Entering the room, time seemed to distort.
“You okay?” Joey asked. The girls focused on her and she shook her head, sinking heavily into the spot she’d vacated.
“I’m wondering if I know what the hell I’m doing. Shooter makes me feel amazing, but do we really have a future? Can our worlds merge together enough for us to happily exist together?”
“I think reality has set in,” Evonne said. Hilary paused the television and they huddled in around Juliette.
“Did he turn into an ass?” Joey narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.
“No, that’s the problem. I like everything about him. His blunt way of speaking and his tendency to be possessive and commanding. Without making me feel suffocated. He awakens pieces of me I never dreamed existed.” She let her head fall back against the couch.
“So what’s the problem?” Hil shook her head.
“It can’t last. We’re from two different worlds and I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he carries on criminal activities. Plus, how can I feel that way after Peter? Am I that fucking altered?” Juliette closed her eyes and rubbed her lids with her thumbs. “I’m all jumbled up. I don’t want to lose myself in this and not be able to see the forest for the trees.”
“No, this is different. Peter wasn’t upfront, kind or giving. You can’t compare this with that asshole.” Hil words were full of anger. They fired from her mouth like bullets from a gun. Juliette opened her eyes and met her friend’s angry gaze. “Don’t let him ruin this for you. What happened was never your fault.”
“I know that, I really do. It just makes it extra hard to let someone in.” Juliette shook her head.
Hilary reached over and grasped her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “But you did open up to Shooter. He scaled your walls and made you comfortable enough to start a deep relationship. I won’t lie and say things between the two of you will be easy, or that it’ll work out in the end. But I will say this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time.”
Hilary’s words warmed her heart. “Yeah?” Juliette tilted her head and offered up a shaky smile. Sometimes healing hurt.
“Most definitely,” Hilary said, returning her smile.
“I don’t think the possibility of crashing and burning is what really scares you. It’s the loss of control. As one control freak to another, I understand the panic,” Evonne whispered, a faraway expression on her face. “You trusted the wrong man and it shattered that belief that people are basically good. Now you’re running the gauntlet again with a man who’s anything but meek and mild.” Evonne returned her gaze to Juliette’s. “Last month at Corked we all agreed our lives lacked joy, fun and spontaneity. We had a tough time in adolescence and deep down, we never got over it. Add your ordeal with Peter and it’s tripled. I can’t say what I think about Shooter—it’s too early. Is he unlikely for you? Yes, but he can’t be all-bad or you wouldn’t have gotten this far with him. I’d never tell
you what to do, but it’s my job as your best friend to keep you from hiding from the truth.”
Juliette squeezed her eyes shut. Control was her answer to the cruelness the world had handed her over the years. She might not be able to alter their actions but she could change her own. It was a handy trick, seeming cool, calm and collected while her inner child had a breakdown. Shooter had stripped that power away. It left her bereft and unsure. He had an uncanny skill of seeing through her facade.
“Do you feel unsafe?” Hil frowned leaning in to study her face.
“No. I feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life.” Juliette looked down. “Not that I have much to go off with my hit-it-and-quit-it father. Maybe this is me finally hitting the daddy issues. ’Cause you know the horrific mess with Peter wasn’t enough.” Memories of his sick request to join in sexual acts with multiple partners, and stifling control made her chest ache. He’d gone from a concerned and doting partner to a man who needed to know where she was and who she was with every single moment of the day.
“Don’t you dare.” Joey snapped. With her piss-and-vinegar attitude she was known for in full effect, she was a woman to be reckoned with. “You fought long and hard to move past the void your father’s bad decisions made.” Joey’s hair fell into her face as she shook her head back and forth.
“Why else would I act so out of character?” Juliette glanced up.
“Maybe you’re just learning who you really are.” Hilary placed a hand on her shoulder. “After the breakup you sort of tucked back into your shell.” Juliette opened her mouth to protest and Hil rushed on. “We all understood why, but you never quite got back on track. The joy and mischief I saw that night in the club were the only reasons I let you leave with him. I think he could be good for you. The minute you feel concerned about you health or safety from his extra-curricular activities, you can walk away. But in this town, nothing much happens. All the hype from Sons is exaggerated, I’m sure.”
The words made sense, but as usual “easier said than done” applied.
“I think she’s digesting. You know I’m always going to give it to you straight, Jul. Shooter is sick-hot, apparently has hidden depths and has some sort of addiction to you. Ride this out. If you don’t, I think you’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” Joey said.
