“Where’s your vest?” I blurted.
Linc’s smile fell. “Had an incident with an over-zealous fan last week, and she ripped the damn thing. I bought a new one, but I’ve got someone putting all my patches on this week.”
My mouth fell open in affront. “I was instructed when I first started at the ER to never cut the vest off of a biker,” I told him. “Isn’t that vest sacred to you?”
Linc’s lips twitched. “If it’s life and death, and you need to cut the vest, most of us won’t have a problem with it. Yes, it’s sacred to us, but we like our lives a little more than we like the vest. Do what you gotta do…unless it’s a one percenter. Then don’t touch his cut at all. In fact, you should probably work around it or let one of his MC brothers take it off him if need be. And it’s not a vest, it’s a cut.”
I hadn’t thought about that.
“Do we normally get a lot of one percenters here?” I questioned.
I hadn’t always known about bikers.
In fact, when my mother had met Steel, I’d been in awe because not only was he a biker, but he was also a cop.
But Steel was a regular guy, doing regular things.
I’d thought they were all like that TV show where they ran guns and did drugs while fucking woman after woman while their old ladies were at home raising their children.
But he’s proved to me that most bikers weren’t like that…most.
“No,” he answered my question. “Honestly, we get less one percenters around here now that we’re here than we did even five years ago. Though you’re in Kilgore, and there’s also another unofficial MC who kind of helps keep the area safe.”
“Who?” I asked, surprised to hear of an unofficial club in Kilgore, let alone an official one like Linc’s.
“They call themselves Free,” he answered, standing up. “Do they have chicken in there?”
I thought about that for a moment. “I think so.”
“What about steak?” he pushed.
“Yes,” I said. “They have steak in some of the rolls, so I’m sure they can make you a steak to eat on its own.”
“Good,” he grunted. “Let’s go finish lunch.”
I didn’t bother to tell him that I hadn’t even really started lunch. I had one bite of my California Roll, and it was the end piece, the smallest part.
I also didn’t bother arguing with him.
I was there, I was still hungry, and I had no ride home. I wasn’t a stupid girl by any means.
I sighed as I followed him back inside the sushi place I’d just come out of moments before and tried not to let my eyes stray down past his waist.
That way, I could tell myself that I wasn’t staring at his ass, I was staring at his very well-defined back.
It was okay to look, wasn’t it?
Looking didn’t constitute feelings.
“Table for two,” I heard Linc say to the woman who had seated Tyson and me not twenty minutes before.
She glanced at me, her eyes widened, and I found myself flushing.
Linc’s eyes were mischievous when he said, “We have an open relationship. I don’t mind when she sees other men as long as she comes home to me.”
I sighed and followed behind the startled server, happy when she led us to a table next to a window that overlooked the parking lot.
That way I could people watch and not Linc watch.
The less I looked at him, the better.
I was already going to have to ride home with him. I had to prepare myself for having my body pressed to his.
“You look weird in a dress,” he said once we were settled.
I gave him a blank look. “I feel weird, too.”
“Why did you wear it?” he pushed.
Because I thought it might piss you off if you happened to see it.
It was a little on the short side, and I had no doubt in my mind that when I got on the back of his bike later, I’d have to hike it up to almost my waist to be able to get on.
“Because,” I shrugged. “I wanted to.”
He didn’t call me on my lie, even though I was fairly sure he saw it for what it was.
The waitress came to the table then and took our drink orders, and it just so happened to be the same one who had taken my order when I’d arrived earlier.
“Water again?” she asked politely.
I shook my head. “Sweet tea. And a beer—whatever you have on tap.”
Her eyebrows rose, but she politely wrote down what I wanted anyway.
Her gaze turned to Linc and she reeled.
“Aren’t you…”
Before she could finish, I started to laugh. “He gets that all the time. You have no idea. He’s not Linc James, though. His name is Bonard. I call him Bonnie for short.”
The waitress’s shoulders drooped. “That sucks. He’s one of my favorite players.”
I doubted it.
If he was one of her favorite players, there was no way in hell that I would’ve been able to convince her that he wasn’t the Linc. She would’ve caught on to my bullshit in a millisecond.
Linc James was a popular man, and the football world loved him—the big bastard.
“I guess the beer’s for me, but let me have a water, also,” Linc smiled politely.
He didn’t show his teeth, though.
“Thanks for that,” Linc sighed when she walked away. “You have no idea how exhausting it can get sometimes.”
I did.
It happened while I’d been with him more times than I could count over the years.
Even in college, he’d been a big deal.
Now back home, he would’ve been recognized in a heartbeat, and I’d have had no hope of going out to eat with him. Linc James was a popular man, and honestly, the only reason nobody recognized him in this restaurant was likely due to the hoity-toity atmosphere. The restaurant catered to a more refined crowd.
I’d never been to this particular one because it was just too fancy for me.
I preferred places that didn’t look down on me for not eating with a fork when I didn’t want to.
“What was that look for?” my non-date asked.
I pursed my lips. “This place. I would’ve preferred to go to the one down the road. They have better California Rolls.”
I would know. The one bite I had was all it took for me to realize that.
“And they have free margaritas because they don’t have a liquor license, yet. They have applied for their license, but until it comes in, they are giving the alcohol away as a promotion,” I explained.
Linc laughed and stood up. “Well then, let’s go.”
I blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, jerking his head toward the door. “They haven’t brought us anything yet, and they don’t charge anything for sitting at their table for thirty seconds.”
I agreed with that wholeheartedly. “Okay, let’s go.”
I was standing up and hurrying in the direction of the door before anybody could stop me.
Linc came much more leisurely, uncaring that we’d just walked out of a restaurant after we’d already placed our drink orders.
But, I reminded myself of the lady’s face as we’d ordered our drinks and gave zero fucks.
Only, once I was outside, I was reminded of the fact that I was wearing a dress and it happened to be super tight.
“I swear I won’t look at your panties,” Linc drawled as he saw me sizing up his bike.
I grinned and hiked my dress up, happy that I’d thought ahead to slip the tight Under Armour workout shorts on underneath it.
“No worries,” I said as I hiked it up to my navel.
The look on Linc’s face was priceless, and it also made something low in my belly squirm.
I ignored that feeling and watched as he threw his leg over the bike.
***
“You want to go for a ride?”
I’d been staring at the bikes in front of me, wondering what it felt like to be on one when he’d come up behind me.
“One of them is yours?” I asked softly.
I didn’t want to turn around. I wanted to be able to speak to him without tripping over my own tongue.
The man was gorgeous. Heart-stoppingly, panty-melting, all-I-have-to-do-is-smile-to-get-what-I-want, gorgeous.
“That one that you were staring at.” Linc pointed, coming up to my side.
It had been the one I was staring at.
It was all black. The handlebars. The brake cords. The engine. The gas tank. The helmet hanging off the handlebars. All of it was black.
I liked it a lot.
And it looked older than all of the others, but also very well cared for.
I liked old things.
One day I wanted to get an old house like the ones Jo and Chip renovated on Fixer Upper and make it beautiful again.
My dream car was a Pontiac GTO. Fully restored, cherry red, fast and loud.
“I think I want to,” I murmured softly. “If we can get out of here without any of our family noticing that we’re gone.”
Linc laughed. “Honey, I’ve been sneaking out as long as I can remember. I could probably break you out of jail and not be caught at this point.”
I snorted. “Hopefully we never prove that fact, because then it’d mean that I was in jail.”
He grunted in agreement. “They were talking about you before you got here, you know. I was told that you’re not all that innocent. Maybe I should start preparing now for that breaking you out of jail thing.”
My mouth fell open in affront.
“What?” I gasped.
He got on the bike and started to wheel it out of its parking spot between two much flashier motorcycles.
“There’s nowhere to sit,” I said. “And you only have one helmet.”
He handed the single helmet over to me. “We won’t ride far. Just up and down the road. I’ll scoot up enough that you have at least some cushion.”
And he was true to his word.
We only went up and down the road twice before he came to a stop and gestured for me to get off.
I did, albeit very reluctantly, and felt my face stretch into such a wide smile that there was no way that my mother wouldn’t ask about it.
“I want to do that again…” I paused when I felt stiff in places that shouldn’t be stiff. “But only after you get a new seat.”
***
I looked down at the seat that Linc had installed on his bike specifically for me and felt something inside of me warm.
It wasn’t likely that my ass had been the only one to use that seat, but I still felt all warm and fuzzy on the inside that he’d installed it specifically for me so many years ago.
“What?” Linc asked, turning his head to look at me.
I swallowed, winding my arms around his tight abdomen and smiled when it felt like I’d come home again.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just remembering.”
Linc’s grin said it all.
He was remembering right along with me and liked the feelings those memories inspired.
Chapter 4
I want you to know that someone cares. Not me, but someone.
-Conleigh to Linc
Conleigh
The next day at work, I couldn’t stop thinking about my date with Linc.
“What has that smile on your face?” my coworker asked.
I looked over at the woman who was about the same age as me. We’d gotten hired at the same time and went through hospital orientation together. Now we were good friends.
“Hey, Pru,” I said softly, carefully sidestepping her question. “How’s your sister doing?”
Pru pursed her lips. “Which one?”
I giggled. “The one currently in the military and deployed. Your twin. I know that your other sister, Phoebe, is just fine since I saw her this morning looking bored next to the nurse she was following around today.”
“That was her advisor. She was less than thrilled. Apparently, she had some patient grope her during her clinical last night, and her advisor thought that maybe she should make sure she was okay.” We both paused as we tried not to laugh. “I know, right? Phoebe is so much like my dad it hurts.”
“What did she do to him?” I wondered worriedly.
“I punched him in the throat when his hand went up my scrub top,” came Phoebe’s reply.
I jumped at hearing her explanation directly behind me and whirled. “Holy shit, you scared me.”
Phoebe’s eyes lit up with laughter.
“Why are y’all always talking about me?” she asked.
“Why are you always so paranoid?” Pru countered. “And we started talking about Piper, but we somehow got sidetracked and started talking about how you had someone following you around today, and you look less than thrilled about it.”
“I’m not thrilled,” she grumbled. “I’m a fourth-semester nursing student. I shouldn’t need to be followed around like I’m a first-semester nursing student anymore. They’re treating me like glass because of who Mom is.”
Her mom was now the director of nursing for the entire hospital, and I could see how that would be worrisome for the school since the director of nursing could potentially make it a pain in the ass for the school if she really wanted to.
Not to mention her mom also taught classes at the school that both had graduated from but hadn’t done so in three years since her daughters were there and she had backed away from the teaching aspect of her life until they were all the way through.
“Ladies.”
I inwardly cringed. Outwardly, I smiled congenially at Tyson Threadgill, an emergency room doctor, AKA the man that made me want to wash my hands multiple times when he looked at me weird.
Like he was doing right now.
“Are you feeling better?” Tyson asked, his eyes only for me.
I smiled weirdly at him, which worked in my favor. “No, my stomach is still pretty fragile. I had a really bad weekend.”
It was only bad for those twenty minutes I spent with you.
“Oh.” Tyson backed up a few steps.
Inwardly, I smiled.
Phoebe and Pru looked on with avid fascination.
In fact, we were in the middle of the damn nurses’ station, so everyone that was in a five-foot vicinity was probably listening and watching.
“You weren’t feeling bad yesterday,” Pru said teasingly. “You seemed just fine when we went and did laundry together.”
Pru and I didn’t have washers or dryers, so every Sunday we went with each other to do our laundry. Yesterday, she’d gotten the low down on the date the day before, as well as how much that twenty minutes with Tyson had wigged me out.
“It’s a come and go thing,” I lied quickly when Tyson took a step in my direction once again.
“She thinks she might be pregnant,” Phoebe chimed in.
I closed my eyes as horror washed over me.
“You…you’re pregnant?” Tyson asked, sounding alarmed. “Who’s the father? Was it that big biker guy that looks like Linc James?”
“That big biker guy was Linc James,” Phoebe continued to say, a wide smile on her face. “Conleigh’s known him for forever. They used to date when they were younger, but they had a falling out. They’ve just recently reconnected. If you catch my drift.”
Phoebe lifted her eyebrows suggestively, and if we hadn’t been at work, I would’ve smacked the fakeness out of them.
“You got pregnant by Linc James? He’s never going to stay with you. Not only is he a professional football player, but he’s a biker. They’re never faithful,” Tyson blasted me.
I would’ve answered, but I knew that the grenade’s pin had just been pulled, and the two women standing beside me were likely seconds away from losing their shit.
Their entire family w
as full of bikers, including their father.
Yeah, they weren’t going to let that comment slide. They were about to blow up, and things were about to get dirty. There might even be hair pulling.
Especially by the youngest Mackenzie.
I eyed Phoebe worriedly.
“Are you feeling queasy again?” Tyson asked with a curl to his lip.
I bit my lip to keep the laughter inside.
One positive thing had come out of it all…Tyson wasn’t sure what to think about it. I’d confounded him. Did he keep asking me out because he wanted to date me, knowing that I was pregnant? Did he back away? Did he act like nothing was wrong?
He hadn’t asked any of those questions, yet I could practically see them flashing through his mind one by one. He was a very expressive thinker. Every single thought was written all over his face.
“Um, no.” I grinned. “I feel fine right now.”
“Do you want to go get some lunch in the cafeteria and talk about it?” Tyson asked, obviously deciding that my newly pregnant status didn’t deter him any.
Dammit!
“Uh, no,” I said. “I don’t have lunch for another hour, and I have patients to see to. Thanks, though.”
With that I turned away, glaring at the two smiling sisters at my sides. “Go fuck yourselves.”
Pru’s grin went wider. Phoebe’s broke into a small smile.
I left before anything else could be said about the matter…which was a mistake.
Because had I stayed, I would’ve been able to stop the shit storm that was taking place in the hospital all around me.
Chapter 5
Sometimes you run into people that change your life for the better. Those people are called bartenders.
-Linc to Joe
Linc
I was halfway through my morning run when my phone rang for the third time. Seeing this one was my father, I finally stopped running and answered, waiting impatiently for it to connect.
“Yeah?” I said through a few panting breaths once I’d heard the call go through.
“You got Conleigh pregnant? Are you fucking insane?” my father growled.
I pulled back and stared at the phone with mild surprise before pressing it back to my ear. “Come again?”
Talkin' Trash (The Bear Bottom Guardians MC Book 2) Page 3
