Texas: The Lost Boys MC #1

by Rylan, Savannah

  I turned away from her, afraid she’d see my tears if she looked at me any longer.

  “I just wanted to get that out,” she said.

  “Well, thank you for that,” I said breathlessly.

  Then, my eyes focused back on Texas. On the way he fluidly mowed my lawn with the lines of his strength glistening in the morning sun.

  Six

  Texas

  “Texas!”

  “Long time, no see.”

  “Hey! Tex! ‘Sup!?”

  “There he is, the man of the hour.”

  “How’s the babysitting going? Stone up your ass yet?”

  “You know he always is,” I said with a grin.

  I slapped hands and bumped fists as I walked through the bar. We named it “The Lost Boys,” making it our literal namesake. I looked at the bartender and held up my hand, signaling a beer before pointing to my regular booth. And as I made my way there, I saw Stone sitting there. Already nursing his second beer.

  He looked up and waved me over, like he always did when I walked in after him.

  “Already two in, I see,” I said as I eased myself into the booth.

  “Long day at the shop,” he said.

  “The guys giving you a hard time?”

  “More like the customers. I swear, we never should have opened that damn shop up to cars. I’m tired of dealing with the prissy stay-at-home moms that come in there with their broken-down vans expecting us to get them to run like new.”

  “Well, tell me how you really feel,” I said, grinning.

  My beer slid in front of me and I silently thanked the bartender for bringing it over.

  “So, how did the move go? You get settled into the house okay?” Stone asked.

  “Yep. I mean, plastic-covered furniture is my jam,” I said playfully.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, well. It’ll keep you from ruining it with your massive feet. I swear, all the furniture at our lodge has puncture holes from where you step all over everything. You secretly wear heels or something?”

  “I mean in my spare time I like to dress up.”

  The two of us shared a small laugh before Stone cleared his throat.

  “How’s Ella doing?” he asked.

  I sipped my beer. “Better. The encounter with Jett had her rattled a bit, though. I’m still not sure what they talked about. Ella won’t tell me anything. By the way, she knows you sent me to look after her.”

  “What she knows won’t hurt her. So long as she actually lets you help out.”

  He white-knuckled his glass bottle, and I was scared he was going to shatter it in his hands.

  “Got something on your mind?” I asked.

  Stone sighed. “I just don’t understand why he’s still fucking bothering my sister. After the way Jett beat on her, he should have never been granted unsupervised visits with my niece. Not one bit.”

  “You know damn good and well that man probably bribed the judge from the money he made with this crew over the years.”

  “That, or the judge was taking revenge. I mean it’s not like the cops can ever get shit to stick to us. Maybe that was the judge’s way of sticking it to someone he couldn't put behind bars,” I said.

  “In that case, he’s messing with fucking women and children. And you know what we do to men like that,” he grumbled.

  “We aren’t killing the judge, Stone.”

  He rolled his eyes before he took a sip of his beer.

  “Did anything else happen?” he asked.

  I debated on whether or not to tell him that I’d cooked dinner for his sister and niece. I wasn’t sure how he’d take the news. It wasn’t as if that type of shit was in my job description. Then again, I’d mowed her damn grass as well. If I told him both things, it would look like I was simply taking care of them. My version of watching over them.

  Right?

  I cleared my throat. “Well, I went to check on them the night Jett came over, and I ended up cooking them dinner.”

  Stone narrowed his eyes. “And how the hell did dinner happen?”

  “Look, I went over there to make sure she was okay. She had to go straight to work after that encounter with her bullshit ex. And she had just gotten done burning a frozen pizza for dinner. That isn’t right. She couldn't feed that shit to Keva. Or herself, for that matter. So, I cooked that pesto chicken shit you always want me to cook.”

  “Oh, damn. I haven’t had that in a while. You gotta cook it sometime soon.”

  “Yeah. I figured if I cooked dinner, she’d talk more about what happened with Jett. What he said. What pissed her off. But, she didn’t. She had dinner, I cleaned up, and then I left while she was tucking Keva in. I also mowed her lawn yesterday. Because holy fuck, she was really struggling there for a little bit. Took her nine or ten times just to strike the damn mower up.”

  Stone’s eyes connected hard with mine and he fell silent. Holy shit, I’d fucked up. I sat there, nursing my beer. Eyeing him down like he was me.

  Then, he drew a deep breath through his nose.

  “You know this is just a job and nothing more, right?” he asked.

  “The hell else would it be?” I asked.

  Stone leaned forward. “You won’t get involved with my sister.”

  “Never had plans on it.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you plan or don’t plan. Ella’s already been through enough. Keva’s been through enough for any child her age. They both have gone through more shit than anyone should ever have to deal with. Neither of them need another man coming along to fuck shit up.”

  I was offended by his words. Did he really think no better of me then that when it came to women?

  The fuck was that about?

  “I’m not interested in your sister, Stone. But, if I was, it wouldn't be any of your damn business,” I said.

  Stone’s face hardened and I slung back the rest of my beer.

  “Ella’s a grown ass woman who can make her own choices. And while she isn’t a fan of me helping her out with shit, I’m gonna do it anyway because she’s got enough on her plate. I’m not fucking your sister. But I sure as hell ain’t gonna let you sit here and paint me to be another Jett.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I get that she’s an adult, but she’s still my kid sister. I’m going to protect her, whether she wants me to or not. That’s why I put you on this assignment. That’s why I’m paying you for it, Texas.”

  He leaned back and sighed as the bartender exchanged my empty bottle for a fresh beer.

  “I couldn't protect her from Jett before, Tex. It wasn’t possible. I mean I didn’t know what the hell he was doing. None of us did. He’d come and stand in those church meetings like the snake he was, touting how wonderful his marriage was and how well taken care of my sister was.”

  The fire of disgust rose in his eyes.

  “Now that I know what Jett really did to my sister, I have to protect her. At all costs,” he said.

  “Then, why didn’t you just move next door?” I asked.

  “Ella would have killed me. That’s why.”

  I chuckled. “The man with the blood on his hands is afraid of his kid sister?”

  “Yep. Any man should be. She’s a damn powerhouse. A single mother who is literally doing everything. That type of strength should always be feared with the utmost respect.”

  He had a point.

  “You are less of a threat to Ella. She’d tolerate your presence more than mine. Gets the job done without the bullshit mess,” he said.

  Well, you’d be wrong on that one, too, friend.

  “Well, she’s safe with me. Whether or not I’m cooking chicken pesto so her and Keva can eat well along with feeling safe,” I said.

  “I appreciate it,” Stone said.

  We clinked our beer bottles together before chugging them back. But I knew my thoughts regarding Ella were dangerous. I wanted her. More than I could stand. Ever since I felt her eyes on me yesterday morning, mowing tha
t fucking lawn as she raked her stare over me. I was doing the best I could to deny my want for her. But if she came onto me, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist her.

  If she gave me any indication she wanted to be with me without having distance between us, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to turn her away.

  I continued to be cautious around Stone the rest of the night even as we sipped on drinks and shot the shit. Stone’s rational need to protect his sister gave way to an irrational need to bloody up whoever came near her physically. It made me worried for the need I had that was sprouting for Ella.

  Would he really kill me if I touched her? Kissed her? Caressed her in all the ways I knew she wanted me to?

  Stone picked up the tab and I downed some water before heading home. And as I rode home, Ella was on my mind. Her funny little face in that t-shirt yesterday while she tried mowing her lawn. I’d practically swallowed my beer wrong when I saw it. Ella. Mowing her own damn lawn. She needed to be resting on her day off. Not fucking around with some damn yard work. I was glad I wrestled that thing away from her no matter how pissed she was.

  She deserved the time to rest and relax.

  I pulled into my driveway and saw a shadowed figure on my porch. I narrowed my eyes as I slid off my bike and readied my fingers to grab my gun. I looked around and didn’t see any cars. Or motorcycles. But as I approached the shadow, I quickly realized who it was.

  “Hey there,” Ella said.

  I furrowed my brow as I stepped up to my front door, standing right in front of her.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  I was wary of her presence at my place. Especially since it was late. And dark.

  “I brought you some lemonade,” she said.

  I looked down at the glass tentatively. She held it out for me, waiting for me to take it. The conversation with Stone rushed through the back of my mind. His voice weighed heavily on my mind. Maybe if I got harsh with Ella, she’d go away. She’d take her seductive drink and her soft voice and her luscious curves and go back the fuck home.

  Surely Keva was asleep in bed already. And she needed to be, too.

  “It’s kind of late. The hell you doing out here in the dark?” I asked.

  She faltered. “I heard your motorcycle coming down the road, and I thought I’d bring you a drink.”

  “Of lemonade.”

  “I guess I should have brought it yesterday when you were mowing the lawn. So, consider it a thanks for taking care of it.”

  She thrust the drink out further to me, and I realized I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted her to stay. To talk. To be around me. I took the drink and tipped it up to my lips, reveling in the lemony-sugar water. I couldn't remember the last time I’d had the damn stuff. I was a kid, probably. But since I was living in suburbia for the time being, I figured it would be a drink I’d get offered often.

  Maybe even while in the presence of Ella herself.

  “Thanks,” I said as I swallowed the last drop.

  “I’m glad you liked it,” she said.

  I handed the glass back to her and she stood there, shuffling on her feet.

  “And thank you again for mowing my lawn yesterday,” she said.

  “It wasn’t an issue,” I said.

  I needed her to go away, but I didn’t want to. Her body heat reached out for me. I gazed down into her wondrous eyes as they reflected the moonlight in the sky. She was so beautiful. So radiant, even in the dark. Even though she wore nothing but jeans and a plain shirt, she looked gorgeous. Even with her hair up in a messy bun, she looked good enough to eat. A few loose tendrils of her hair swept across her cheek, and for the first time in my life, I became jealous of hair.

  Fucking hair on her cheek.

  Ella had on no makeup. No nice shoes. Probably plain underwear underneath her outfit. And yet, my body heated for her. My cock pulsed for her. I couldn't take my eyes off her face as they danced around her fluid features. My lips tingled with a desire to kiss her. But I couldn’t.

  Not after just having that conversation with her brother.

  “Anyway, thanks again,” Ella said.

  “You said that already.”

  “Yeah, I suppose I did.”

  There was a brief pause before she went to move, and I knew I had to stop her.

  “Do you have anything else you’re doing tonight?” I asked.

  She looked back at me with an inquisitive look.

  “Not chores, no. It’s kind of late. Almost ten o’clock,” she said.

  “So, you’d be done for the day then,” I said, grinning.

  She snickered. “Yes, I’d be done for the day. What about you?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yep. Just settling in for the night.”

  “No nefarious motorcycle crew duties to attend to?”

  I gasped playfully. “I’m hurt, Ella. I run a very respectable business with your brother.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  She giggled, and the sound stopped my heart in my chest.

  “Well, I appreciate your help with things. And with cooking dinner. I’ll see you around, yeah?” she asked.

  Yet another closing statement to a conversation I didn’t want to end.

  “Did you try pizza for Keva again tonight?” I asked.

  “If I did, I’d never tell you. Might get judged for it,” she said playfully.

  She winked up at me, and I stepped a little closer to her.

  “What did you two have then? And no lies,” I said.

  She drew in a sharp breath. “Well, I made spaghetti and meatballs. But I haven’t eaten anything yet.”

  I cocked my head. “Why not?”

  “Keva was a bit much today. Lots of playing. Lots of tantrums. Lots of not wanting to take a nap. I finally put her down for bed around eight and I wanted to sit and stare more than eat. Though, you’d be proud of me.”

  “And why’s that?” I asked, grinning.

  “I made the meatballs fresh.”

  My eyebrows rose as my voice lowered. “I bet they taste fantastic as well.”

  I watched her blush and my cock was instantly hard. I couldn't help it. I couldn't explain it. And I sure as hell couldn't get it to go away. I prayed she didn’t look down. I prayed she didn’t move. My eyes dropped to her lips before raking back up to her eyes, and that cute little tongue of hers darted out to lick her lips.

  Holy fuck. The tips of her tits press into my chest as she moved closer to my body.

  “I suppose I should go home and eat,” Ella said breathlessly.

  I gazed into her eyes as a smirk crossed my face.

  “But how do I know you’ll actually eat? How do I know you’re not simply lying to me before you go to bed without eating yourself?” I asked.

  She balked playfully. “I’m hurt.”

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” I said, winking.

  She giggled. “Well, why don’t you come over and have some spaghetti with me? That way, you get to watch me eat so you know I’m telling the truth.”

  “Should I bring over any extra meatballs for the occasion?”

  Her cheeks flushed deeper and I had to hold back a groan at how beautiful she looked.

  “If you’d like,” she said softly.

  I knew I was being a total brat, but I didn't care. I adored her reactions. The way she stepped closer despite being so flustered. I reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. My fingertips brushed against her cheek, just enough to feel the heat of her skin. My groin ached for her. My hands wanted to fist every part of her body against my palms. She swallowed deeply, trying to keep herself under control.

  “Be over in fifteen minutes?” she asked.

  “I’ll see you in ten,” I said.

  Seven

  Ella

  I rushed around the kitchen, trying to make sure everything was just right. I threw the noodles into a pot of boiling water and kept checking them every minute. I thr
ew pasta at the wall until it stuck, trying to make sure it got to the right temperature. And between simmering the sauce and checking on the meatballs, I was a wreck.

  Cooking dinner had never been such a stressful experience.

  I had no idea how Texas enjoyed his meatballs cooked. I had no idea how he enjoyed his noodles. Did he like them a little crunchy? Softer? Should I have snapped them in half? I smelled the meatballs and wondered if I put too much seasoning on them. Jett hated extra seasoning on his meatballs. He said it made them too salty. And he enjoyed a crunch to his noodles to cut through the vegetables I put in my sauce.

  Holy hell, did Texas like mushrooms?

  I ran my fingers through my hair. My ex-husband had never been happy with whatever I’d made for dinner. He berated it or ate it with a crinkle in his nose. Sometimes, if he was upset enough about it, he threw the plate of food against the wall. I didn’t want Texas to hate dinner that much. I wasn't sure if I’d be able to handle it. It made me even angrier at Jett that I couldn't enjoy something like this with a man who obviously found me attractive.

  Fucking Jett.

  It was just one more thing to hate about the man. And I tried my best not to focus on it. The second one of the noodles stuck to the backsplash of my kitchen, I pulled them off and drained them. I put them into a nice ceramic bowl and put it on the table. I stirred the sauce one last time before I put it in another ceramic bowl with a nice ladle to go along with it. And just as the meatballs were finished, I finally got some confidence underneath me.

  I set the table while the meatballs sat and cooled on the stove.

  “There. Now I can go—”

  A knock came at the door and I froze. My face paled. My hands trembled. I looked down at what I wore before a droplet of sweat fell to my chest. Oh shit. Texas was early, and I hadn’t changed clothes yet. Or cleaned up. Or generally washed myself down.

  Red alert. Red alert. Shit. Shit. Get out. Get out now.

  My mind flew everywhere as another knock came at the door. I was in nothing but raggedy jeans, an old shirt, and my hair up in a messy bun. I looked over at the front door as my heart slammed against my chest. This wouldn't go over well. Jett always wanted me dressed up for dinner. That was a thing in our house.