“Exactly.”
“Thanks Gracie.”
“Anytime, buddy. I should go. I have to cram for the trig final.”
“Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
We hung up and I went about getting ready for bed, feeling a lot better about myself and the future. Grace was right. Screw Devon Wallace. I was going to college and I’d find someone a whole hell of a lot better than him there.
I couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER ONE
Poppy
Devon Wallace is a dick!
A gorgeous, badass biker with a body chiseled out of marble...but regardless...a total dick. I let out a frustrated squeak and threw my phone on the bed. It bounced off and dropped on the floor, popping the back open.
“Damn it!” I snapped.
“Poppy,” Mum called through the door before knocking and pushing it open. “You okay, poppet?”
I took a deep breath, then another, and schooled my features before facing her. “I’m super.”
She leaned against the doorframe and raised an eyebrow. “So, the string of foul-mouthed expletives that just came out of your mouth was, what?”
I scoffed. “Mum.”
My mother was British, gorgeous, and had a mouth like a sailor when it suited her.
She smiled. “Devon rang, I take it?”
“Just to be clear...murder’s wrong, correct?” I asked, and reassembled my phone.
“In the case of Devon, no, but you have to leave that to your dad. He’s called dibs.”
“I’m going to have to renegotiate that contract,” I retorted.
She smiled. “We’re getting ready to head out, so Dad wanted to go over a few things with you.”
“Okay.”
I slid my phone in my pocket and followed her downstairs. I was home for spring break and watching my little brothers, Parker and Jamie, while Mum and Hatch flew to Savannah for the weekend. I was really looking forward to some quality time with my little biker boys, considering I hadn’t been home this past holiday season. I had been working and studying so hard (and avoiding Devon), I didn’t get home much anymore.
Hatch grinned as I walked into the kitchen, holding his arms open and I walked into his hug. “Hey, baby girl.”
“Hi, Sid.”
He kissed my head. “You good?”
“She wants to kill Devon,” Mum said.
He chuckled. “You mean, ‘Sparky’?”
I groaned. I couldn’t believe the Club had given Devon the same biker name as my dog. Funny, yes, because the reason behind it was appropriate, but it meant that every time I called Sparky, I thought of Devon.
“Yes, Sparky,” I corrected.
“Nope, that’s my job,” he retorted. “Well, unless the fact he sucks at doin’ anything electrical doesn’t kill him first.”
Yep, this is how he came to be known as Sparky. He was helping with the expansion to the clubhouse (since he had a shit ton of experience with building) and he kept forgetting to turn off the breaker box or whatever before installing a couple of lights. It happened two or three times, so the Club decided to bust his balls permanently with his new nickname.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m taking over that responsibility.”
He chuckled. “What’d he do?”
“Not worth talking about it. It just gives him power.”
Hatch gave me a squeeze. “Okay, baby girl, but if he’s messin’ with you, I’ll end him.”
“I know. I appreciate that. I’ll let you know if I need your badassery.”
“Sounds good.”
One of the things I loved the most about Hatch was he didn’t meddle. He was exclusively hands-off. Mum was too, kind of. She had her ways of getting information without actually asking anyone a direct question. It was witchcraft, but it worked for her.
“Let me show you how to work the sprinklers,” Hatch said, and I followed him into the garage.
Hatch was the Sgt. At Arms for the Dogs of Fire Motorcycle Club, and he was highly organized...which is why he had a ‘book’ with all the information about their home in detailed myopic epic-ness.
“I think you missed your calling, you know that right?”
Hatch raised an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”
I flipped a sheet protected set of instructions with a thwap. “You would have made someone a very nice personal assistant.”
He dropped his head back and laughed. “And this is why you’re my favorite daughter.”
“I’m your only daughter.”
“Yeah, but you’re still my favorite.”
“That’s good to know.” I smiled. “You’re my favorite Sid, so we’re even.”
“Glad we got that sorted.”
“Dad!” Parker called.
“Out here, bud?”
“I finished. Wanna see?”
“Yeah.” We walked back into the house and Parker handed Hatch the model airplane he’d been working on. “Great job,” Hatch said.
Parker was holding some war bomber that he and Hatch had been building together, mostly because Parker was obsessed with airplanes and Hatch was an incredible dad and wanted to share in all of our interests. He never missed any of my school events or horse shows. Even if he had a job with the Club, he was there...we were always his priority.
Unlike Devon.
Devon was a dick.
“Poppy!” Snapping fingers appeared in front of me and a grinning James Wallace came into focus.
“Hey, Jamie.” I grinned, giving him a hug. “Are you going to play something for me later?”
Jamie had decided he wanted to play drums this year, so he was taking lessons and I knew my parents were going to buy him a drum kit this year, because they were amazing.
“I just have practice pads.”
“So? You can play me something on your pads, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Is Devon coming over?”
I forced myself not to curse as I shook my head. “No, bud, he’s got stuff to do.”
“Aw, man,” he moaned.
Hatch raised an eyebrow, but I ignored him as I gave my brother a hug. “But you owe me a do-over on that Mario Brothers game.”
“Okay,” he said, excited.
“After dinner,” Mum said.
“Okay, Mom.”
The doorbell pealed and Hatch went to open the door.
“Shit! Hawk’s early,” Mum said. “I’m not ready.”
“Go finish, Mum, I’ve got dinner covered.”
“Okay, love, thanks.”
I scooped my hair up into a ponytail then stepped to the sink to wash my hands when the air in the room changed and I knew exactly who had just walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, beautiful.”
I grabbed a couple of paper towels and faced Devon. “Hey, asshole.”
He smiled, but I didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes. I forced down my guilt. I wouldn’t care. He didn’t deserve it.
God, he looked good. Dark jeans, tight in all the right places, hugged his long legs and the white T-shirt he wore under his cut was fitted enough to see the ridges on his very muscular chest and stomach. He wore a chunky black watch on his left wrist and a skull ring on his right ring finger, but nothing else. He had a little stubble and I itched to run my hands (and my tongue) over it.
Instead, I dumped the paper towels into the trashcan. “I thought you had shit to do.”
“I do. Figured I’d come say hi first. Welcome you home,” he said, sliding onto a barstool.
“Well, now that you got that out of the way, don’t feel like you need to hang around.”
“I’m driving Hatch and Maisie to the airport.”
“I thought Hawk was doing that.”
“Hawk delegated.”
“Cool.” I stuck my head in the refrigerator so I could hide my emotions, pulling out a plate of burgers Mum had prepped to grill.
“Can we talk this week?”
I set
the plate on the island and lit up the burner for the grill. “About what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you could fill me in on the reason you’ve iced me out for the past however many years.”
“I haven’t iced you out,” I countered. “I moved to Atlanta to go to school.”
“Babe,” he said with a sigh.
“What?”
“Ghostin’ my calls and texts kinda indicates you’re icin’ me out, Poppy.”
I made sure my voice dripped with sarcasm as I said, “I apologize, Devon. Truly. You know, I’ve been studying hard and doing my best to get a four-point-o GPA, which is a little harder for me than some people, but you know what? I’ll take a few minutes out of my study time to be sure to answer your phone calls and texts. Make sure you’re a priority. Does that make you feel better?” I slapped a patty onto the grill and grabbed another.
“Whatever, Poppy.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled. “Why do you care?”
“No fuckin’ idea, babe,” he snapped, then slid off the stool and pointed to the burger. “Make mine medium rare, yeah?”
I let out a frustrated squeak as he left the room.
Medium rare. Yeah, I’ll give you medium rare, asshole. Better yet, I’ll leave out the medium part and give it to you so rare you get e-coli and worms.
* * *
If you liked the sneak peek for the Longing, you can order it HERE:
2016 Piper Davenport
Copyright © 2016 Trixie Publishing, Inc.
Logan ‘Mack’ Reed loves women. Really loves women. He’s an equal opportunity player, happy to oblige just about anyone looking for a good time, but when a beautiful red-headed pixie walks into his club, he finds himself unable to think of anyone but her.
Darien Aherne and her sister have lost both of their parents, but create a comfortable life for themselves. Darien, however, is sheltered and overly curious, which is a dangerous combination. When Darien breaks away from the protective bubble her sister has created, she finds herself falling for a man who could break her.
When the chance of a lifetime pulls Darien into a provocative world she has no experience in, will she trust Mack enough to tell him all of her secrets?
Will he be able to protect her, even from herself?
CHAPTER ONE
Mack
MACK’S PHONE BUZZED in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the display, smiling as Kim’s name came up on the screen. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi, Mack. Sorry I’ve been MIA,” Kim said. “I had a couple of shows.”
“Yeah? I thought maybe you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“Right, like you’d ever let that happen,” Kim pointed out. “If you’d really been worried, I would’ve been tracked, located, and the perpetrator killed before they had a chance to get to a second location.”
“Yeah, that’s probably true.” Mack chuckled. “What’s up?”
Mack met Kimberly Church when Booker claimed her best friend Dani and subsequently married her. Kim rode fancy-ass horses and, although Mack knew nothing about horses or that side of her life, he knew Kim enough to know she was up to something.
“A couple of friends and I wanted to come to the club tomorrow night. Will you be there?” she asked.
He frowned. “Booker’ll lose his shit if Dani comes without him, Kimmie.”
“It’s not Dani,” Kim promised.
“Which begs the question, why are you plannin’ somethin’ without her?” he asked. “What the hell are you up to?”
Dani and Kim rarely did anything without each other. Mack always thought it was a little strange until he got to know Kim and her history. She’d had a rough beginning in life and Dani and her family had helped exorcise a lot of Kim’s demons. Not all of them, but enough for Kim to function.
“She’s busy.” Kim groaned. “Mack, seriously. She’s not part of this. Just a few friends getting together for a good time and if you’re there, I get to see you too. Bonus.”
He shook his head with a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, bud.”
“But no leaving with some random douchbag, yeah?”
“I can handle myself,” she argued.
He glanced out the one way mirror and down at the club floor unusually packed for a Thursday night. “Fuck me, Kim, you cannot. Do I need to remind you about three weeks ago?”
Kim had walked out of the club with one of their regulars, and he’d attacked her in the ally. He didn’t get far because Knight followed them and beat the shit out of the guy, but not before the asshole had ripped Kim’s dress down the front. She seemed to lose her mind when Knight was around and Mack knew his brother was getting fed up with her desire to find trouble.
She sighed. “No. You didn’t tell Booker, right?”
Both Mack and Kim knew if he did, Booker’d tell Dani immediately and then Kim would be screwed.
“No, babe, I didn’t tell Booker, but you keep up with this stupidity, I will. Better yet, I’ll tell Dani.”
Kim let out a quiet hiss. “Logan Reed, you better not!”
“I fuckin’ will, Kim, but for now, your secret’s safe.” He turned toward his desk. “What are the names of your friends?”
“Darien and Pauley,” she said. “I think Darien might bring a friend as well.”
“You’re bringin’ guys in? Not typically your style, babe.”
“No, they’re sisters. Their dad wanted boys, it’s a long story.”
“Okay.” He didn’t admit it, but he had a thing for girls with boys’ names. It was sexy as hell.
“Anyway, you’ve met Pauley. She’s the bartender at the restaurant.”
“Yeah, the hot redhead.”
Kim giggled. “Do you actually know the names of the women you meet or are they all classified by hotness and hair color?”
Mack chuckled. “I’m thinkin’ I’m not gonna answer that.”
“Chicken.”
“I’ll make sure you’re on the list.”
Kim sighed. “Thanks, Mack.”
“Hey,” he said, his tone softer. “I’m lookin’ out for you, yeah?”
“I don’t know why,” she grumbled.
“Need me to break it down for you?”
“No, what I need is for you to go back to being Mack the dawg instead of concerning yourself with my sex life. I know you’re watching out for me, honey. But outside of that, I’m good, okay?”
He gave a reluctant smile. She was right. He was inserting himself somewhere he didn’t belong. “Okay, babe. I’ll butt out.”
“Thanks. And thanks for the entry.”
“No problem. Talk to you later,” he said, and hung up.
* * *
Darien
I slid my leg under my bottom and settled my laptop squarely in front of me. Still no email informing me I was about to be published. Even so, I thought I might attempt to write something else. However, this was the third time I’d changed positions in an effort to shake out the cobwebs in my head.
“To sex or not to sex?” I asked, hoping someone might answer me. I was alone in the apartment I shared with my sister, but I was desperate.
I stared at the blinking cursor and tapped my fingers on my keyboard. It took me about thirty-two seconds to let out a frustrated groan and dump the computer on the sofa cushion beside me. My fluffy, snooty Llasa Aapso, Barney, raised his head but didn’t move any other part of his body, considering he knew Mommy had at least three of these outbursts a day. I don’t really know why I bothered, no one would ever want to read anything I wrote anyway.
“Don’t judge me,” I demanded.
Barney yawned and settled his head back on his paws. Damn him and his cuteness. I needed to focus, not coo at his adorability.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you, little doggle,” I said, and rose to my feet. Maybe some water would help... or a shot of tequila.
As I grabbed a glass from the cabinet, my sister walked into the apartment an
d dumped her purse on the kitchen counter. Pauley was tall, well, taller than me. She stood a whopping five-foot-eight to my five-foot-six. She and I had the same hair color, a deep, Irish red, but where hers was thick and glossy, mine was curly and unmanageable. We both had gray eyes, but that’s about where the similarities ended. She was glamorous and confident, fully in touch with her sexuality and could use it to her advantage.
Me... not so much.
“Hey, Pauley,” I grumbled.
“How goes the fascinating world of old people?” she asked, and opened the fridge.
“I know more about the bombing of Pearl Harbor than I ever thought I would.” I smiled. “But Mr. Akerman gets so excited when he’s telling his stories.”
I had started working at the nursing home pretty much right out of high school. Pauley and I lost our mother four years ago and there hadn’t been money for college, so we looked for jobs right away. I was lucky enough to find a position working with the elderly which I just happened to love.
“I envy your life.” Pauley pulled out a beer and twisted off the top.
I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm, especially considering, she was deathly afraid of old people. “How was the restaurant?”
“It was good.”
Pauley waited tables five days a week and tended bar two nights a week to help fund her ‘around the world trip in style’ she’d been promising to take since she was six. With the amount she made working weekends, she probably didn’t need her day job. But that was my sister. She was sexy as hell, friendly, and made more money in a day than I made in a week.
“Any word from the agent?” she asked.
I let out a pathetic groan. I finally finished the book I’d been threatening to write and sent it off to a couple of agents. One had requested the entire manuscript, but that had been six weeks ago and still no word. I was pretty much resigned to the fact it was obviously total crap and I’d never hear from her again.
“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good. You probably should have let me read it before you sent it off.”
I shook my head vigorously. “And have you tease me mercilessly? No way!”
The truth was, no one but Millie had read any of it and I had sworn her to secrecy.
Pauley chuckled. “Have you yelled at Barney yet?”
Saving the Preacher's Daughter (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter #1) Page 19
