“Okay. Hello?” I said into the phone as Tank walked away.
“Dominic Savage?” murmured a woman’s voice.
She didn’t sound like the typical telemarketer. “Yeah. That’s me. Who’s this?”
“My name is Hannah Goodwin. I’m Jenna Goodwin’s sister. Or,” she paused. “I was.”
“Jenna Goodwin, huh?” I said, a memory flashing in my brain of a weekend we’d spent together about seven years ago. I’d gone to high school with Jenna and we’d reconnected while she’d been going through a messy divorce. She invited me up to her grandparents’ beach house in Santa Cruz for a couple of days, and we’d had a great time together, admittedly, most of it spent in bed. Afterward, we lost touch and I eventually found out that she’d gone back to her ex-husband. “Hold up. Did you say that you ‘were’ her sister?”
The moment the words left my lips, I knew Jenna had lost a battle to cancer. An image of her going through chemotherapy and lying in a hospital bed made my heart heavy.
“Yes,” she replied softly. “Jenna died last month. Ovarian cancer.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry for your loss,” I replied, feeling sick to my stomach.
Jenna had been so full of life, it was one of the reasons I’d been drawn to her. Despite the turbulent time in her life, she’d been so positive and good-natured when we’d been together. “She was a sweet woman, your sister.”
“Yes, she was and… thank you. Anyway, the reason I called is that Jenna had a daughter, Ruby. She’s staying with me, but”—She sighed—“I just can’t take care of her.”
“A daughter, huh?” I said.
“Yeah. That’s why I’m calling.”
The hair on the back of my neck suddenly stood up. I knew what she was about to say and almost dropped my phone when the words left her lips.
“Before she died, Jenna told me that you were Ruby’s biological father. I need you to come and pick her up.”
Chapter 2
Peyton
“Peyton, I need you to do me a favor.”
I looked up from the computer and could tell by the look on my boss’s face that I wasn’t going home anytime soon.
“Uh, sure, John,” I replied, glancing at the clock. It was Friday, almost five o’clock, and I’d made plans to meet up with some girlfriends for dinner. It was our monthly get-together and I’d been looking forward to it all week.
“A guy just called and he wants to look at the house on Bush Street. Tonight. I’m showing a couple of houses myself in another area and can’t make it,” he said with the phony smile that told me he was full of shit. I knew why he didn’t want to show the place; it was cheap and the commission check would barely cover his monthly dining expenses.
“I’m not a realtor,” I reminded him. In fact, I was just a part-time, underpaid administrative assistant who made more money waitressing at Olive Garden part-time.
“No, but all you have to do is open up the house for this guy and let him take a look around. I already explained that you weren’t a realtor.”
So, he’d already set it up, expecting me to agree.
Asshole.
I forced a smile to my face. As much as I wanted to tell him where to go, I still needed this job and he knew it, too. “What time?” I asked, pulling out my cell phone.
“He’s on his way there right now.”
I chewed on my lower lip.
That wasn’t too bad.
Hopefully, I could get him in and out quickly and still meet up with my friends.
“What if he asks questions about the place?”
He gave me the look. The one that made me feel like an idiot. “Just show him the house flyer we created and tell him that I’ll call him in the morning.”
“Okay,” I replied, signing out of my computer. I looked up at him, suddenly wondering if it was safe to meet a strange man alone like that. “Wait a second, is it safe?”
“Safe? What do you mean?”
“You know… I’m meeting him alone. We don’t know much about him.”
He smirked. “Of course, it’s safe. He found the house on my online listings and thought he’d be meeting with a man in the first place. He sounds like a serious buyer and not”—he snorted—“someone out to commit a felony.”
“Okay,” I replied, feeling like I’d made a fool out of myself by even asking. John had a way of making me feel naïve and incompetent at times.
“Seriously, you’re safe. Now, on the other hand, if it was Diana,” John said as one of the other realtors walked into the room—a woman he obviously had the hots for, “I’d have to send out a bodyguard. How’s it going, gorgeous?”
Diana, who was blonde and perfect in every way because of her bodacious implants, a few nips and tucks, along with her semi-annual Botox appointments, smiled at him. “Awesome. I think I sold the house on York Street.”
John’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding? The one for two-million?”
“Yes,” she squealed, doing a little dance. “Can you believe it? And it just went on the market today!”
“You are amazing. You know, we should go out and celebrate,” he replied. “I bet I could get us in at Manny’s Steakhouse tonight.”
I wanted to ask if that was before or after doing the showings, but held my tongue. It was obvious, more than ever, that he was a real dick.
Diana’s smile froze and I could see the wheels spinning in her head. I knew that deep down, having dinner with him was the last thing she wanted. “Sorry, John. But I have other plans. Besides, I wouldn’t want to jinx the deal,” she replied, trying to let him off easily.
“Oh. Well, I understand,” he said, looking disappointed. “We’ll wait until after the closing. Raincheck?”
“Uh, sure,” she said, laughing nervously before heading toward her office.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, then. I guess I’m off to meet your guy, since you’re so busy. I hope sending me isn’t a mistake,” I added. “I’d hate to lose a sale for you.”
“If he seems really interested, call me,” said John, looking distracted. “Don’t forget the flyer.”
“I’ve got it right here,” I replied, reaching for the file folder with the Bush house information. “By the way, what’s his name?”
“Dominic Savage,” he answered.
Interesting name, I thought.
***
The house was about twenty minutes away, and in a neighborhood that made one want to lock their car doors. If that wasn’t bad enough, when I arrived and saw the man parked in the driveway, I almost peed my pants. Not only was he big and muscular, but he wore a leather jacket with patches that read Gold Vipers. I’d heard of the notorious biker club, but didn’t know that any of the members were living in Minnesota. They were dangerous and had been mentioned in the news a few times. I started having an argument with myself.
Turn around and leave. John would understand.
Right…
I parked my car behind his motorcycle and noticed that my hands trembled as I picked up the house flyer.
For God’s sake. You can do this…
Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile to my face and got out of the vehicle.
“Hello, you must be Dominic Savage?” I said, walking over to him with my hand outstretched to shake his.
“Yes,” he replied, smiling warmly. He held his hand out. “Just call me Dom.”
“My name is Peyton.” Before I made it to him, my heel caught on some kind of crack in the driveway. Tripping and squealing, I did a very ungraceful face-plant, landing in front of Dom’s pointy, brown cowboy boots.
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” he asked, bending down.
Humiliated, I took the hand he offered and stood up. “Thank you. I’m fine, actually,” I replied, although I was far from it. My knees, palms, and chin were sore from hitting asphalt and my favorite black slacks were ruined. As much as I wanted to scream in rage, I clenched my jaw and managed to hold it together. I was both humiliated and
proud of myself.
Dom stared at me with concern. He waved his finger in front of his face. “Your chin is bleeding.”
I touched it, staring at the blood spots on my fingers. “Oh. Well.” I looked up at him and snorted. “Talk about making an entrance, huh?”
He grinned. “I have to admit, yours is very unique.”
I noticed that, for a rough, biker guy, Dom was very handsome up close. Tan with dark eyes and dimples that probably got him in and out of all kinds of trouble. I suddenly understood why so many women were attracted to bad boys. At least the hot ones.
“To be honest, I’m quite a klutz. I’ve even mastered the art of tripping over absolutely nothing. My mother used to follow me around with a video camera hoping she’d catch something funny so she could send it to Tosh 2.0,” I said, noticing that I was rambling.
He chuckled. “I’m not exactly graceful myself,” said Dom. He tapped his nose. “I once broke this trying to impress a girl using a skateboard.”
His nose was slightly crooked but it definitely gave him character. “Oh, were you showing off by doing tricks?”
“Not exactly. The skateboard was hers,” he explained, “and I’d never used one, but had to try and prove something. Anyway, I kicked off on the damn thing and ended up in a ditch, my ego damaged and my nose pointed in a different direction.”
I smiled. “How old were you?” I reached into my purse and took out a small, plastic package of tissues. I pulled one out and began blotting my chin, feeling more at ease with Dom by the minute.
“Fifteen.”
“What happened to the girl?”
His lips twitched. “She helped nurse me back to health.”
Looking at him, I’d want to play nurse, too. I imagined that even as a teenager, he’d been gorgeous. “Well, good. It all worked out in the end.”
“Yeah.”
“Am I still bleeding?” I asked, still dabbing at the tissue.
He squinted. “It looks like it’s stopped.”
“Oh, good.”
I shoved the tissue into my purse and motioned toward the small, yellow bungalow house. “So, I suppose you’d like to get a look inside?”
He nodded. “I have to say, it looked better online.”
I had to agree. It was an older home, built in the seventies, and probably hadn’t been painted since then. The walkway leading to the steps was in bad shape, the roof looked like it needed to be replaced, and the garage door had a large hole at the bottom. I could only imagine the kind of animals hiding inside.
“Maybe it’s better on the inside?” I replied, walking toward the house.
“Have you been in it?”
“No,” I replied, walking up the stoop. I began opening up the lock-box. “But, I’ve seen the pictures on the Internet.”
“The house is obviously empty. How long has it been on the market?”
“About five months. The previous owner moved out of state.”
“Is he desperate to sell?” asked Dom, he scanned the yard, which also needed work. “I would think he would be.”
“I’m sorry. I really don’t know. You’ll have to ask John. He’ll be in tomorrow.” I unlocked the door and we walked inside.
“It’s small,” he said, looking around the living room, his hands on his hips. “And smells musty.”
There definitely was a dank smell and even I could tell already that this house needed a lot of work.
“Maybe it just needs some fresh air,” I replied, although it was obvious it needed much more than that.
“It needs a complete overhaul, more like.” He sighed. “So, it says there are three bedrooms?”
I took out the flyer and nodded. “Yes. Let’s go and take a look.”
We first checked out the master bedroom, which was really small, and he wasn’t impressed. Then, we walked into a guest bedroom, one that was painted bright pink.
“Wow,” he said, looking around. “The owner must have had a daughter.”
“Let’s hope,” I replied, thinking that the color was a little too bright. “Do you have any children?”
He was quiet for a few seconds and then gave me an answer I wasn’t expecting. “I might.”
Chapter 3
Tarot
I knew before I stepped inside that the house wasn’t for me. But, I wasn’t ready to drive away from the curvy redhead with big green eyes and a contagious smile. I figured her to be somewhere in her twenties and noticed she wasn’t wearing any rings. At least the trip hadn’t been a total waste of time.
“Might?” she asked, staring at me curiously.
I don’t know why I’d said it, but there was something about Peyton that made me want to confide in her. The only person I’d spoken to about Ruby was Tank. He’d immediately told me to get a paternity test. He thought the woman on the phone was just trying to dump off her niece and had somehow found my name.
“I know it sounds crazy, but I just learned yesterday that I might have a six-year-old daughter in California. That’s why I’m looking for a house. I currently live in a one-bedroom apartment and she’s going to need her own room.”
“Oh, my God,” she said, staring at me wide-eyed. “Do you think she might really be yours?”
I nodded.
My intuition told me she was, but I was having a hard time accepting it fully. Although I’d come from a big family, I’d always been a loner. Now, to learn that I had a daughter out there, one I’d be meeting next week, was freaking the hell out of me.
“Wow,” she replied, still looking pretty stunned herself. “Do you have someone to help you? A wife or girlfriend?”
I smiled. “No. It’s just me.”
“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. What about her mother? Is she moving out here or will your daughter be flying over for visits?”
“Ruby’s mother died, and that’s why I’m getting custody of her. She’s living with her aunt, who can’t afford to take care of her.”
Peyton’s eyes softened. “That poor little girl. I mean, I’m sure she’ll be lucky to have you for a father, but to lose her mother at such a young age. She must be devastated.”
I nodded. “I imagine. I’m just ticked that she never told me about Ruby. That’s another story, though. Anyway,” I looked around the room. “I’m not impressed with this place. I don’t like the neighborhood, either. I guess I should have known it wasn’t going to be good by the low price.”
“Honestly, I don’t blame you, especially knowing you’re going to have your daughter with you. There’s a lot of crime in this part of town. Drugs. Violence. Gang-bangers.” She looked at my cut and her face turned red.
I wasn’t insulted, although Peyton looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. “I’m not in a gang. It’s a club, and I assure you, we’re not criminals or drug addicts.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you were,” she said, looking horrified. “Really, I apologize if you thought I was being judgmental. I was just referring to the fact that there were a lot of bad things going on around this area, and I know you wouldn’t want your daughter exposed to it.”
Although I’d sensed that Peyton had been skittish of me originally, I knew her opinion of me had changed, so I let her off the hook. “No problem. A lot of people have these perceptions about guys like us; sometimes they’re even right. But, the Gold Vipers aren’t thugs, like everyone makes us out to be.”
“I believe you,” she replied, still looking embarrassed.
I gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s all good. At least between you and me. This house, though.” I ran a hand over my face and shook my head. “I don’t know. It would have been nice if John had been truthful about it. When I called him earlier, I asked what the neighborhood was like and he said it was good.”
“Maybe he just didn’t know. I had relatives who lived only a few blocks away, to be honest, and that’s how I knew. It was bad when I lived here back then. I’ve heard it’s gotten wors
e.”
“Maybe. You’d have to have your head in the clouds not to notice the dealers on the corner and the guy passed out on the front lawn, a couple houses over,” I replied, smiling. “I was ready check on him, but then noticed the bottle of whiskey lying in the grass beside him.”
Peyton smiled. “I don’t miss this area one bit.”
“I bet. Where do you live now?”
“In East Bethel.”
“Where in the hell is that?” I asked.
“It’s kind of by Forest Lake. About thirty miles north of here.”
“I just moved from LA a few months ago myself, so Forest Lake sounds foreign to me, too.”
“I understand. Well, East Bethel is a nice little town. Close enough to the city and yet, it’s almost like living in the country.”
“It sounds like my kind of place. To be honest, I don’t like crowded cities. I grew up in Oakland and always dreamed of living in a quiet town. Are there any homes for sale in that area?”
“I’m sure there are,” she replied, digging her cell phone out of her purse. “In fact, let me see what’s available. What kind of price range were you thinking?”
The house I was looking at now was $175,000. I had some money tucked away, but didn’t want to go overboard. “I can go up to two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand, but that place would need to have everything, including a pole barn.”
“A pole barn?” she replied, smiling over at me.
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about getting a snowmobile and maybe even a small fishing boat. So, a pole barn, or even a three-car garage, would be ideal.”
After a few seconds, she pulled up a few homes that were in East Bethel and the surrounding area. Most of them were small, but the prices were far better than what I’d been finding in St. Paul and Minneapolis.
“That one looks nice,” I replied as I stared over her shoulder at a split-level home with a three-car garage and a shed in the back. The inside looked roomy and there were even the makings for a man-cave in the basement. The best part was the bedrooms. They were all large and had walk-in closets.
Luring the Biker (The Biker) Book 7 Page 2
