by Geri Glenn
Cory’s face breaks out into a grin, causing my knees to go weak, distracting me. His hands come out and do up the chin strap. “So, do you want the good news or the bad news?”
This makes me pause. “There’s bad news?”
Cory chuckles and smiles down at me. “The good news is, your car isn’t going to cost you a fortune. The guy who’s fixing it owes me one, so you’ll just have to pay for parts.”
That is very good news, and I’d be relieved if I wasn’t worried about the rest. “And the bad news?”
He swings onto the motorcycle and holds out a hand for me to steady myself as I climb on behind him. “The bad news is, he’s not going to be finished until later tonight.”
I pause as I’m adjusting myself on the seat. “Later tonight?”
He starts up the motorcycle. “Yep,” he yells over the engine. “But fear not, Thumbelina. I’ve got something in mind to keep us busy ’til then.”
For the first time, I notice the patch on the back of Cory’s leather vest: Lucifer’s Bastards. I’ve heard of them. Actually, everyone has heard of them. They’re a motorcycle club known in these parts for doling out their own version of justice wherever they see fit. People all across the state fear them. What am I doing?
My hands grip tighter around his waist as he tears off down the street. What does he mean keep us busy? I thought we were just going to get my car. Fear threatens to pull me under as I realize that I’m zipping down the road on the back of a strange man’s motorcycle, and I don’t even know where we’re going.
It’s not that I’m afraid of Cory. Not anymore. I may not know him, but he’s been nothing but kind and helpful, and I’m pretty sure that if he were some sort of serial killer, he’d have just offed me last night in the woods and left me to the creatures of the night.
To be honest, I don’t really know what I’m so afraid of, and that’s what scares me. Growing up under my mother’s roof hasn’t always been easy. She loves me—of that, I’m sure—but she’s sheltered me with Christ and smothered all the rebellion out of me since the day I was born, and this whole situation is taking me completely out of my comfort zone.
I go to school and church, and I babysit for people that my mother has approved of. That’s the extent of my life experience. Motorcycles and gorgeous men with unknown agendas isn’t something I ever imagined happening to me.
At the next stoplight I lean forward, blushing a little as my chest presses against Cory’s broad back. “Where are you taking me?” I call over the roar of the engine.
I feel his torso shake with laughter, and as the light turns green, he turns his head toward me and yells, “To meet my mother.”
Astor
I spend the rest of the drive in a total state of panic. Why would he take me to meet his mother? I hadn’t agreed to this at all.
Cory drives into a part of town that I’ve never seen before. It’s upscale and fancy, the streets riddled with expensive looking shops and restaurants. The people walking the streets carry shopping bags with designer labels, and wear clothes I’ve only ever seen in fashion magazines.
The restaurant he pulls into looks almost out of place against the backdrop of upscale establishments and wealthy patrons. It’s dwarfed on all sides by ritzy architecture and buildings several stories higher. The name O’Neill’s flashes in green neon above the door, accompanied by green flags with white shamrocks hanging in a row from the roof.
“A bar?” I ask, not even bothering to control the discomfort in my voice once we dismount the motorcycle.
“That’s no bar.” He grins. “That right there is the best Irish restaurant on this side of the world.” Cory snags my hand and starts walking toward the door. I follow along, mostly because if I don’t, he’ll be dragging me, but also because I’m curious.
Really, my life experiences are almost nonexistent. Mother doesn’t approve of restaurants. She thinks the idea of paying someone else to cook for you when you’re completely capable of doing it yourself is preposterous. I’ve been to lunches and dinners held by the church, but have never been to a restaurant, and never a true Irish one.
The music that plays through the speaker system can be heard from outside as we approach the front door. It’s upbeat and cheery, full of drum beats and fiddles, and the occasional bagpipe. Excitement flows through my veins as we get closer, and when the door opens, I can barely contain it.
It’s like taking a step back in time. The entire place is made of wood, stone, and steel. The bar is polished until it gleams, and the wooden tables are old and marked, but in a way that you know they’re meant to be. It adds to the authenticity of the whole place. There isn’t a table in the building that isn’t taken. Laughter and clattering dishes battle with the music, and in the center of it all is a smiling woman with long blonde curls who can be no one other than Cory’s mother.
“Ma,” he calls, dragging me toward her. “You get that table ready for me?”
The woman turns to us, her brow arched. “Cornelius, is that any way to greet your mother?”
He chuckles softly and pulls her in for a one-armed hug, because his other hand is still wrapped around mine. “Hello, Ma.”
As she pulls away, she reaches for me. Her Irish accent is thick as she asks, “And who do we have here?”
“Ma, this is Astor. Astor, meet my Ma.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes at him. “You can call me Aileen, dear. You must be pretty special indeed if my Cornelius is bringing you here. He has never introduced me to any of the ladies in his life, but after seeing you, I can see why he’s so taken. You’re truly lovely, Astor.”
My face heats as Cory draws me closer. “Ma, you’re embarrassing my date.”
My head whips toward his, eyes wide. Date? Since when is this a date? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it’s a date, but wasn’t a date something both parties had agreed to ahead of time? Seems to me the only thing I’d agreed to was for him to take me to get my car from his friend’s shop.
Aileen’s head falls back with her musical laughter. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to embarrass anyone. If there’s one thing I’m known for, it’s speaking my mind.” Right then, her eyes lift to something beyond me, and her face goes from joyful to stone.
“Aileen,” a voice says from nearby, and I turn as Cory’s body tenses. “It’s been a long time. I was wondering if we could have a word.”
“I have nothing to say to you, woman. Get out of my restaurant.”
The woman comes into view, and Cory draws me closer to him, his hand tight around my waist. She’s a middle-aged woman with dark hair, pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress is austere, making her look matronly and out of her own time. The smirk on her pinched face fades as her eyes land on me. “My, aren’t you gorgeous. What’s your name, honey?”
From the way Cory and his mom are holding themselves, I wonder if I should even answer her. But Mother raised me to be polite to my elders, and while this woman could be no older than fifty, she is definitely older than me. “Astor,” I say, pressing my body tight to Cory’s side.
The woman smiles, but there’s no joy or laughter in it. It’s a cold smile. Empty. “What a lovely name. I have to say, Astor, it’s surprising to see a nice girl like you hanging out with the likes of this family.”
Before I know it, I’m behind Cory, his shoulders heaving as he stands in front of me, blocking my view. “Get out,” he snarls.
“Cory,” the woman admonishes. “Is that any way to speak to your godmother?”
Cory steps forward and gets into her space. “You stopped being my godmother the second you screwed my mother out of every penny my father ever earned.”
She leans around Cory and jabs a finger in his direction. “Always been an angry one, even as a young child. You best watch yourself around him, Astor.”
I don’t even have time to register her words before Aileen speaks. “My son told you to get out. Go.” Her words are low,
and spoken through gritted teeth. “Now, before I call the Bastards to come and take out the trash.”
After the threat of Cory’s club, it doesn’t take the woman long to do as she’s told. She’s gone in a flash, leaving Cory, Aileen, and me all standing in the restaurant with them glaring, and me likely gaping in shock at what had just gone on.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“That was Mrs. Todd, dear,” Aileen answers, her eyes still on the door, as if she’s afraid that Mrs. Todd will come storming back inside. “That’s all you need to know. That, and if you ever see her again, stay far, far away.
Cory
I’d joined the Lucifer’s Bastards MC when I was just eighteen years old. For the last ten years, I’ve lived my life in the club and for the club, and not once have I ever regretted it. I still don’t regret it, but it takes about five minutes in Astor’s presence for me to realize just how rough that life truly is.
Astor’s innocence becomes more and more apparent as I slowly reveal even the tiniest fact about myself. If I could have a polar opposite, there isn’t a doubt in my mind it would be her. She listens to every word I say, as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. She’s quiet while I talk, only interrupting to ask random questions while I speak.
This is new for me. Most women I date are shallow, self-centered, and only interested in themselves. They rarely listen, and honestly, I rarely feel the urge to share a damn thing about myself with them. But it’s different with Astor. I’m torn between wanting to tell her absolutely everything, and wanting to know every tiny detail there is to know about her.
Dinner at Ma’s goes without further incident, and is delicious as usual. If you were to ask me why I’d brought her here, I doubt I could answer. I think part of it was the fact that Ma never fails to impress with her food, and the other would be that I just wanted to show Astor off to her.
Virginia Todd showing up was an unwelcome surprise, though. That bitch had been my mother’s best friend back before I was even born. We spent weekends at her house, and took family vacations together. That was before my father died. My father, and her husband George had been business partners. They started off as small-time contractors, but eventually made it big in the construction business. Together, they built an empire.
After my father died of a heart attack, we found out just what kind of people the Todd’s were. Virginia Todd and her puppet of a husband had been embezzling money from the company for years. By the time my mother got to dealing with his estate, there wasn’t a penny left, but somehow the Todd’s were even wealthier. She’d tried suing them, but there had been nothing she could do. From that day on, the Todd’s became our enemies.
Thankfully, Astor never asked any more questions, and I didn’t offer up the info. Instead, I regaled her with stories of my teen years and all the ways I helped to turn my mother’s hair gray. Finally, our bellies full and our conversation dwindling down, we say goodbye to my mother and take a walk down to the water. It’s quiet here this time of night. The only other people out are couples like us, out for a romantic stroll.
Romantic. Not a word I ever thought I’d use, but for once, I really hope that’s what this is. Astor intrigues me. She’s witty and smart, kind and beautiful. And she’s so…good. The opposite of me. She’s also innocent, and in this day in age, it makes me curious.
“So your mother seems…protective.” I try to sound casual, but the truth is, her mother’s behaviour so far is just strange—unhealthy even.
Astor sighs. “Mother is a good person. She’s just…I don’t know…different?” Her shoulders lift in a shrug and a sad smile forms on her lips. “She loves me. I don’t know where I would have ended up without her. I was adopted, did I tell you that?” I shake my head, my arm brushing hers as we walk.
I reach down and thread my fingers through hers, enveloping her tiny hand in mine. “No.”
She stops walking, staring down at our entwined fingers, then looks up at me with a shy smile. “She wasn’t able to have children,” she says, her eyes now on mine, shining in the light of the setting sun. “Her and her husband had been on a waiting list to adopt a child through the church for years. When he died in a car accident, she was devastated. Just two weeks later, she got the call about me.”
“Wow,” is the only thing I can think of to say.
She smiles. “Yeah, wow. Anyway, Mother kept me close. I was homeschooled, and the only friends I ever really had were the ladies from the church that were old enough to be my grandmothers. She’s overprotective, but until recently, I guess I never really realized just how much she’s been holding me back.”
“Well, it’s never too late,” I say, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
She grins up at me. “No, it’s not.” I take in the look of determination on her face, and a lump forms in my throat. “Astor, can I kiss you?”
She gasps, but gives her head a small nod. My heart races as I lower my face to hers, our eyes locked as our breaths collide between us. When my lips meet hers, I go gentle, reveling in the softness of her skin. Her sweet taste scatters my brain into a million tiny pieces.
At first she doesn’t move, but it’s her who opens, her tiny tongue slipping from between her parted lips to taste me. This is her first kiss. I don’t know that I’ve ever been anyone’s first kiss before, but suddenly that honor seems more important than anything else in the world to me.
I can feel her heart beating against her chest, and she’s no longer breathing. I only know because I can’t breathe right now either. After a few moments of memorizing exactly how she tastes, I force myself to pull away, knowing full well that if I don’t, I’m going to take it too far and scare her. That’s the last thing I want to do.
As our faces separate, I attempt to calm my own racing heart as her long eyelashes flutter open, a soft smile forming on her lips. She looks so beautiful right now with her hair blowing in the gentle breeze, her cheeks flushed from my kiss. I can’t think of a damn thing to say to her, but it’s Astor that breaks the silence. “So when does this garage close?”
I chuckle and glance down at my watch. My buddy Rider will kill me if I put this off any later. He’s had the car done for hours. My gut twists a little as I realize that our impromptu date has come to an end. “We’d better go.”
Reaching down, I take her tiny hand and envelope it in my own once more. Her wide eyes meet mine, and the smile she gives me nearly takes my breath away.
“Come on, handsome,” she says with a wink. “Take me to my chariot.”
Astor
It’s late when I pull into my driveway, and every light inside my house is off. Mother is angry. I know she’s not sleeping, but she’s going to do her best to give me the silent treatment after the way I spoke to her this afternoon. I’m not one to have harsh words with anyone, especially not my mother, but this time, I don’t care. I don’t feel bad for how I’d left things with her. I’d spoken the truth, and she might not like that, but it was she who had taught me to be honest, no matter what.
The headlight of Cory’s motorcycle behind me goes dark at the same time I turn off my own car. My head swims a little with excitement as I collect my things and open the door. Tonight had been so wonderful. I never would have pictured Cory as the gentleman he’d turned out to be, and I certainly never imagined I’d be interested in someone as rough and gruff as he is, but I am. I so am.
He’s at my door as I step out, his strong hand reaching for my elbow as I stand. “She run okay?”
“Like a dream,” I breathe out, catching his eye and meaning much more than my newly repaired car.
Cory stares down at me, his gaze turning from casual to a look I’ve never seen from a man before. At least not ever directed at me. His voice is thicker than usual when he says, “I really fucking want to kiss you again, Astor.”
The curse word that usually makes me cringe doesn’t even register as I struggle to drag in another breath. I feel my lips part as I step cl
oser to him, but my chest is so heavy, I can’t get a word out. I want him to kiss me too.
When his mouth takes mine, his moan is almost like a growl, and the weight on my chest dissipates in an instant, replaced with the burning need to taste him again. I’ve never kissed a boy before tonight, and Cory is so much more than a boy. He’s a man. He kisses like a man should kiss. A toe-curling, soul-soaring, butterflies in the tummy inducing kiss that I don’t ever want to end.
When my fingers find their way into his hair, he tears his lips away and presses his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Astor. Just…fuck.”
This time, that filthy word is so much more appropriate than any other word in the English language to describe that kiss, that all I can do is press myself closer and clutch his leather vest. His lips brush mine before he pulls away again.
“We have an audience,” he announces, his voice hoarse as he looks toward my house. Crap, Mother. He straightens up and meets my eyes, the fire there still burning bright. “When can I see you again?”
I want to tell him to never leave, that I want to see him always. That I just want to go back to the kissing. But I can’t. Mother is watching, and it’s late. “I’m free tomorrow,” I say softly, still trying to catch my breath.
“I’ll be here at four,” he vows. “I’ll take you for supper.” I like the sound of that, so I grin and nod my head, likely looking like a complete loon. He chuckles softly as his lips graze my forehead. “Go inside, baby, so I can leave.”
My belly does a little flip at that, and I turn, walking up the steps to my front door. Twice I glance back and smile at him, waving my fingers in a farewell gesture. Both times his smile grows wider, making him even more handsome than before. It’s not until the door is firmly closed behind me that I hear the roar of his motorcycle as he starts it up and heads off down the street.
