Tempted by a Sinner (Seven Sinners Book 4)
Page 11
“You can say it, you know.” Texas chuckled and Lizzy’s eyes crinkled happily around the edges at the sound. “We’re not the boogeymen you might think we are. Stand in front of the mirror and say Seven Sinners seven times in a row and the only crazy that’s gonna be lookin’ back at you is your own self.”
“Does that mean no one is gonna shake me down for protection money?”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about. It’s factored into the rent.”
Scary and business-savvy.
“In that case,” I said, smiling. “I guess I should be thanking you for today.”
He shrugged. “No big deal. My angel here was excited as hell when I told her what was coming to town. We’ll definitely be regulars.”
“Definitely,” Lizzy agreed. “The baby weight tries to sneak back up on me when I go too hard on sweets, but you’ve got some awesome alternatives that won’t leave me adjusting my entire wardrobe.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” And I was. Freaking ecstatic actually. “But I more so meant thanks for bringing the whole crowd. You guys sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.”
Texas popped a toothpick into his mouth from somewhere. “Oh, that wasn’t me.”
I stared at the big biker, blinking in confusion. “What do you mean it wasn’t you?”
Lizzy tipped her head to the side. “You didn’t know?”
I leaned forward on the counter, fingers tracing across the cool surface. It didn’t stop my heart from beating faster, but it did keep me somewhat grounded despite feeling like I was about to have the rug pulled from beneath my feet. “Know what?”
The couple shared a look.
“You didn’t know,” Texas repeated, looking me up and down curiously. “Interesting.”
Lynn came to stand at my side, Mathias trailing behind her. “Okay, even I’m starting to feel blue-balled. What are we missing here?”
Texas grinned, obviously thrilled to be holding this over our heads. “We aren’t the most social batch of people. Usually, we only all come together for parties and when Creed gives the order.”
“You’re saying Creed told everyone to visit my shop?”
He barked out a laugh. “No offense, but there’s not a chance in hell. Nah. I didn’t believe it when I heard you were Marked. Not until I saw the text come through this morning.”
“Marked?” I asked no one in particular. “What does that mean? And what text?”
“Oh man,” Lynn moaned, looking torn between delight and worry. “Your brother is going to kill me when he finds out.”
I wanted to scream. “Someone is getting fruit thrown at their face if somebody doesn’t tell me what you’re all hinting at.”
It was Lizzy who reached across the counter and grabbed my hand in both of hers, patting it in what I guessed was sympathy. That only made me more anxious, and my palm started to sweat where she held it.
“Tone,” she said.
I jerked my eyes up to meet hers, searching for the joke. Finding sincerity instead.
No.
There was no way.
I might’ve said that out loud because she nodded.
Lizzy patted my hand again. “He sent a giant group text earlier this morning, asking everyone to be here before you opened.”
I withdrew my hand. “And all these people showed up just because he said so?”
It was silly, but I was starting to get angry.
There was a ball of flame in my chest growing bigger and bigger while I digested that information. Was this the way he made up for kissing me and then walking away?
He thought he could force everyone to make a pity trip to the new girl’s business and worm his way back into whatever he thought was going to happen between us?
No. With this, that avenue was closed. I no longer cared why he’d kissed me. I no longer cared how good it felt to wrap my arms around him. And I was going to keep telling myself that until it stuck.
Or until Lizzy waved her hand in front of my face, snagging my attention again.
“You’re not hearing me,” she said gently, like she was talking to a wounded animal close to either running or attacking.
Maybe she was. I hadn’t forgotten how to throw bricks through windows, and I knew where he lived.
“I heard you just fine,” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. God, I wanted to close my eyes and just sit in a corner somewhere until this stopped hurting.
“You didn’t,” Texas said, voice too deep to ignore. “The people that you saw today didn’t show up because they were ordered to be here. They showed up because they were asked.”
There was emphasis there. Enough to make the flame of anger flicker and lose some of its steam.
“I’ve known him going on six years now,” Texas continued. “And in that time, I can count on one hand the number of times he’s asked anyone for a goddamn thing. It ain’t his style. He’s not usually a big fan of relying on others. Prefers it the other way around.”
The open flame turned into a candle, easily extinguished by the truth staring me in the face. I didn’t know Tone like the people in front of me did. But there were several things I did know.
He helped me finish moving those heavy boxes.
He made me feel welcome at the party.
He got me away from the obnoxious rich guy and gave me a ride home.
And not once had he asked anything of me in return.
“Why?” I asked, gaze moving around the room.
Why me? I wondered silently.
Texas let his shoulders rise and fall again, toothpick swinging from side to side. “Not us you should be asking.”
Chapter Eleven
Tone
My phone vibrated in the toolbox—again—making everything rattle with an annoying buzz I could almost feel in my teeth.
I clenched my fists against the metal framework of the car I was leaning under the hood of. There was no reason to reach for it. No reason. I knew exactly what the texts would read, or some variation of them, and that was just as good to me.
Folks had been blowing me up with texts all day, Sinners and non-Sinners alike, thanking me for turning them onto Smoothie Girl’s spot.
I didn’t want to read another text about how much they were loving it. Of course they were loving it. She was passionate about what she was doing, and she knew the ins and outs of her craft like the back of her hand.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Normally, the same could be said about me.
I was always driven. Focused. Tuned in to everything going on around me and what was needed. The things I did, I did for a reason. Always. Without fail. Having reason and purpose and control was how I fulfilled my promise. It kept me moving forward instead of backwards.
Until yesterday.
Until Smoothie Girl.
Until Naomi and the feeling of her small waist in my grip. Her scent in my chest. Her lips against mine: soft and sweet and so damn tempting I would’ve fought a shark with my bare hands to keep them there.
And then there was the other issue that had been staring me in the goddamn face since I gave up on trying to get any sleep this morning.
I almost hadn’t been able to stop myself.
The feeling of her body yielding to mine had been too much. Too real. Before our lips touched, I thought passion was the only thing between us. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Naomi wasn’t a woman I could entertain and cast aside once the lust cooled.
Which is why I ignored my phone when it buzzed once again.
Which is why I missed the many heads up people were sending me that would’ve warned of who was heading my way.
Instead, I had to find out when the swing gate around my chain link fence opened, and a voice I’d heard in my mind on repeat—whispering my name over and over—called out, “Hello?”
Fuck.
“Back here,” I yelled, stepping around the vehicle so I could grab a rag and wipe the grime from my hands.
This was better anyway. Let her see me dirty and grease-stained. Remind her of the of the man I was and the people I owed my allegiance to. I wasn’t sure I trusted myself where she was concerned.
But if she came to her senses instead and decided she wanted nothing to do with me, I would accept her decision.
“Hey,” Naomi said softly, coming into view, hands behind her back.
Another one of those large hoodies engulfed her frame, hiding most of her body from view. Probably a good thing. Less temptation. Although the way her dark curls were pulled back from her delicate face and neck, framing them like a work of art, made her hard to look away from.
“Hey yourself.” I grabbed a wrench from the toolbox, but I didn’t go back under the hood. I only twirled it around in my palm, watching her watching me, wondering what was going on in that stubborn head of hers.
My prime curiosity being what the hell was she doing here?
Naomi stepped farther into the garage, keeping her hands behind her back.
Curious. “What have you got there?”
“You missed the grand opening.” Her voice was carefully neutral. I tried and failed to get a read on her emotions. Was she angry? Disappointed? Glad? “Figured I would bring it to you instead, and hopefully get some answers.”
A styrofoam cup appeared, wet around the sides with condensation. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until she held it out towards me. Flashing a quick grin, I reached for it. Felt the cool wetness on my fingertips a moment before she snatched it out of my grip and took a sip herself.
I dropped my hand with a curve to my lips. “Damn, girl. That’s cold-hearted right there.”
“So is ambushing me with half the town and not giving out a word of warning.”
“I take it things went well?”
“You’re seriously going to act like you don’t know?”
I shook my head, going back under the hood. She was too damn attractive with all that attitude packed in her tiny frame. Did she not realize how quickly I could have her over my shoulder and in my bed?
I gripped the wrench in my hands until my knuckles stretched tight against my skin, then forced myself to adjust random shit I’d adjusted to perfection a hundred times over the years.
The smell of peaches and strawberries reached my nose before she stopped beside me, and I groaned to myself. For a girl who acted like she couldn’t get rid of me soon enough, she was certainly being persistent inviting herself back here.
“What are you working on?” she tried instead.
I almost smiled at her change of tactics before I caught myself.
Distance. I need distance.
“A car,” I mumbled, adjusting the torque on my wrench.
“Oh, thanks so much, Sherlock. No way I would’ve figured that one out on my own. I thought you were into bikes.”
“Isn’t a car just a bigger bike with more wheels?”
“You’re infuriating sometimes,” she told me. “Do you know that?”
I stood back to my full height, unable to stop myself from wanting another look at her. Of course, on the way there, I hit the back of my head against the hood of the car and cursed while she laughed at me. Scowling, I rubbed my head and put the tool down. There was no way I was going to get anything done while she was here, and it was a lie to pretend otherwise.
Stepping around to the passenger side, I opened the door for her. “Come on.”
Naomi glanced at the rusted exterior. The chipped, black paint. The missing engine. “I’m not sure this thing is quite ready for an evening ride down the block.”
Distance, I tried reminding myself. But that voice was getting softer by the second, disappearing down a long hallway until it was only an unintelligible echo.
“Get in, smartass. It’s not like there’s a lot of seating arrangements out here, and you said you want answers. This is how you get them.”
Naomi considered me for a moment, then she maneuvered around me and lowered herself into the faded, black leather seats.
While she was on the way down, I snatched the smoothie from her hands and put the straw in my mouth. She’d barely started uttering a cry of protest when I gently shut the door and went around to the other side to join her. Her scent was already mixing with the leather, an intoxicating combination that did nothing for the control I was trying to hold onto.
“I didn’t bring that for you,” was the first thing she said.
I only shrugged, taking a moment to look at her in that seat. A seat that should’ve been someone else’s. No one had been in this car but me. I would’ve thrown Creed’s ass out of it had he tried, and taken the beaten that would’ve earned me.
So, why didn’t I want to do the same to her?
“Who was it for?” she asked softly, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Say what?” I didn’t have a cup holder, so I put the cold drink between my feet and held it there.
The seat creaked while Naomi shifted, turning so she could lean against the door and face me. “You leave your bike outside in the cold, but you’ve got a Challenger from the seventies parked in a heated garage and left unfinished. This car means something to you. I mean, the interior is perfect. My dad liked to mess around with an old heap years ago, but it was a hobby for him. He never took it this seriously.”
My mouth went dry again for completely different reasons.
I stalled, taking another sip of something light and tangy with a hint of cherries before putting it down again. Those curious eyes saw too much. The imploring stare she left sitting on me was hard to deny. And the idea of lying to her didn’t sit right either.
Not here.
Not now.
“My grandfather had one just like it when I was younger,” I said, already revealing more about my life before the Sinners than any other living soul was aware of. “He spent a lot of time in the military, and when he got out, he had a case of wanderlust like nobody’s business, and an innate refusal to take orders from anyone.”
“He traveled a lot?”
“A lot would be an understatement.” I faced forward, staring out the window at the neat rows of tools and materials, but I wasn’t seeing them. Not really. “I don’t know what he did with all the time he spent on the road. I only know that he had a strange way of showing back up right when I needed him. Right when my parents were strung out and missing on a bender that could last for days or weeks at a time.”
Naomi sucked in a sharp breath and I only nodded at her unspoken question, pulling my lip between my teeth. The bottle was uncorked, and now that it was, there was no holding back the flow of words I’d kept to myself for so long.
“They had it bad, Smoothie Girl. Real bad. My dad—my grandfather's son—could never pass up an opportunity to party, you feel me? Doing lines out at the club eventually turned into hitting them on the kitchen counter before he even left. And when the money the old man had set him up with started running out, he turned to shit that went straight in his veins. Got my mom on the junk too.”
“How old were you?”
“Nine or ten, when he started doing it in front of me. Fifteen, when he overdosed.”
“That’s…” Naomi trailed off, wringing her hands in her lap. It was strange, watching how my words affected her when I only felt a distant ache.
“Your mom,” she said finally. “What happened to her?”
“Same thing. Overdose. Except she survived because my luck has always been shit.”
Naomi made a startled sound and I blinked, wondering where that noise came from. Wondering when I started gripping the wheel with tight, trembling fingers.
“Fuck.” I barked
out a dark laugh. “That’s awful, isn’t it? Almost as awful as her clean streak only lasting for a whole two months before she was back out there again, leaving me to fend for myself. A month after that, she was killed in a drug deal.”
“Tone,” she whispered, reaching across the center to tug at my shirt sleeve. When I didn’t move, she put her small, tanned hand on my arm and left it there.
I stared at it, feeling the warmth of her skin. Letting the compassion I could feel in that touch return ghouls back to graves I’d put them in long ago. With the help of another girl who had coaxed the truth from me and forced me to live it instead of continuing to swallow the bladed edges.
“They weren’t good people.” I continued staring while she ran her hand up and down that same area of my arm. “I’m not saying that makes it better. But it’s something I learned how to make peace with. They’re only relevant to what I’m telling you because during those times they were nowhere to be found, my grandfather tended to show up and take me for a ride.”
“Sometimes.” I paused, feeling familiar bony fingers seek purchase across my shoulders. “Sometimes, my best friend, Katherine, would go with us, and the old man would drive to some new, foreign place and let me—us—do whatever the hell we wanted.”
Naomi scooted closer, black curls bouncing with each movement. She looked so vibrant it defied belief. Like she had stepped straight from the sun and into the spot she now occupied. It was harder than ever to look at her. Harder than ever to look away.
I wondered if I would see her painted on the backs of my lids when I blinked.
“He was your hero.” Her voice wrapped me in a pleasant cocoon where the past couldn’t reach. Where the agony of missing my other half wasn’t a constant noose around my neck.
I let go of the steering wheel and put one hand in my lap, the other going to rest on the middle console.
“He was.” I flashed a smile that stayed there for more than a few seconds. There was something light in my chest, almost matching the drink she made for me. “He could be a bit of a hardass when he wanted, but most of the time he was a gentleman who also knew how to get things done and take care of the people who mattered to him.”