Bayou Devils MC: The Complete Series

by A. M. Myers

  Me:

  Hey, taking Chance to bring your car back.

  Call if you need anything.

  As I slip my phone back into my bag, I glance up and stop halfway down the steps as my eyes lock onto Chance leaning up against my car with his arms crossed over his chest. The rest of the world seems to fall away. His gaze never wavers, like he’s content to just stand there and watch me all damn day and the worst part is, I like it. What the hell is happening right now? It’s almost like my little sister, Ivy, did some of that witchy voodoo stuff that Aunt Dottie tried to teach us when we were younger. Of course, neither one of us took it seriously. But that’s just about the only explanation for the emotion rocking through my body right now.

  Blowing out a breath, I shake it off as I start down the sidewalk toward him. The last thing I need right now is this shit. So, sure… Chance might be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, but that’s all this is—lust. As I reach the car, he doesn’t move and his body is dangerously close as I lean in to open my door. He smells like cinnamon gum, the kind that Ivy and I used to sneak when our mother wasn’t around. The scent fills the space between us and I resist the urge to close my eyes and just breathe him in, remembering a time when life wasn’t so complicated. Stilling, we lock eyes and stare at each other, the tension mounting between us.

  My entire body tingles in anticipation.

  “Are you going to get in?” I whisper and a smile stretches across his face. His eyes roam over me, taking his time to study me like he has every right to before pushing off the car and grazing my body. I gasp. It would be less dramatic if he electrocuted me. I watch him walk around to the passenger side and slip into the seat before taking another breath and sliding behind the wheel. He watches me as I pull away from the curb and start off toward the office, his gaze boring into the side of my head. I’m acutely aware of it—like it’s his hands following the contours of my face instead of his eyes.

  I fidget in my seat, each breath I pull into my lungs ringing in my ears as I stare at the road in front of me and fight my body’s desire to glance over at him. He finally looks away and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The road flies past us but I barely even register it, all my attention focused on the man next to me and the way his eyes periodically flick in my direction. Each time, I struggle to restrain myself from meeting his gaze. When I can’t stand it any longer, I glance over at him.

  “What?” I ask and he grins. His eyes sparkle with amusement and curiosity. It’s so hard to turn away from him but I somehow manage.

  “Nothing. Just trying to figure you out.”

  I scoff. “Good luck with that.”

  He can’t ever get to know me. I’m a bag full of crazy, accentuated by secrets and pain so deep I’ll never recover. He’s better off not knowing. He continues watching me and I focus back on the road, once again struggling to not glance in his direction as I search for something to say to him to fill this space between us. Never in my adult life have I had trouble talking to men, but he does something I can’t explain. I thought I understood what desire did to my body, what chemistry was, but now I’m questioning everything.

  “How long have you known Ali?” he asks, and I peek over at him before turning back to the road.

  “Six years. Have you been friends with Storm long?”

  He chuckles, and the sound draws my gaze back to him. “Yeah, since we were kids.”

  “Cool,” I whisper, turning back to the road as my heart thumps in my chest.

  “Why are you nervous, sweets?” he asks, his voice low as he reaches across the car and trails his thumb down my neck, right over my racing pulse. I draw in a ragged breath and peek over at him. My heart is pounding and my mind is going back and forth as I strain to not melt at this stranger’s touch.

  “I’m not.”

  Chuckling again, he shakes his head, saying nothing but his expression makes it clear he’s not buying it. I’m not all that convinced right now either because I can’t focus on anything but the heat that’s steadily climbing in the confined space of the car. My body aches, tortured with how much I want him to touch me again. I stare at the road in front of me, torn between wanting to get to the office faster and slowing down so I have a little more time with him.

  Wait, what?

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and I scoff as I glance in his direction.

  “How is that any of your business?”

  His grin widens. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  What could I say to him? It’s not like I can confirm that he’s correct or explain that the farthest guys ever get with me is friends with benefits and I haven’t been in a relationship since I was sixteen. Hell, I haven’t even told Ali or Izzy about that, so I will not tell a virtual stranger.

  “Did you grow up here?” he asks, turning to face me in his seat and focusing his full attention on me. It’s unnerving.

  “No.”

  When I glance over at him again, he smirks. “Where are you from?”

  “Why are you so interested in where I grew up?”

  I pull up to a red light just a block from the parking garage and look across the car, locking eyes with him. His gaze holds me prisoner and I can’t pull away. There’s just something so intriguing about him. Maybe it’s the way his eyes hold this fierce intensity and seem to shimmer with amusement at the same time—like he would ride into the depths of hell with a grin on his face and laugh as he went head-to-head with the devil. Or the fact that he has no qualms about openly staring at me like a stalker. And yet, it doesn’t come off as threatening.

  “Just want to get to know you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders like he sees nothing wrong with that. Perhaps in his world, there’s nothing wrong with it but it’ll be a cold day in that hell he’s riding into before I let someone get close again.

  “There isn’t anything to know,” I retort just as horns blare behind me. My head whips forward and I press down on the gas.

  “Now that, I very much doubt.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s call it a hunch. You’re far too gorgeous and intriguing for that to be true.”

  “That shit will not work on me,” I snap, hoping that he can’t see the deception in my eyes. Normally, it wouldn’t work. With any other guy, I would roll my eyes and move on, but something about the way he says it hits me right in the chest.

  He laughs out loud, throwing his head back and warmth seeps through my body as I sneak another peek at him. “Damn, you’re refreshing, but who exactly are you trying to convince?”

  I say nothing, turning into the parking garage with a huff and focusing on the winding ramp as I drive up to Ali’s car. When I slip into the spot next to her, I let out a breath and put the car in park.

  “That’s her car there,” I say, pointing next to me as I reach for my bag. After I turn the car off, I toss the keys across the seat and he catches them.

  “Hey, wait,” he calls as I open the door and climb out. Spinning around, I shut the door and glance over the top of the car at him.

  “What?”

  “I should get your number.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “What if I need to get in touch with you?” he asks.

  “Why would you need to call me?”

  He shrugs. “What if there’s an emergency?”

  “Call nine-one-one,” I retort and spin around, walking away from him. I only get a few steps away when I hear his boots slapping against the pavement, then he’s grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him.

  “What if something happens with Ali?”

  “Ali has my number.”

  He sighs, but he doesn’t seem even the least bit frustrated by my resistance.

  “What if you need help?”

  “Then I’ll call nine-one-one,” I shoot back, tiring of this back and forth.

  “I promise you, I can get to you a lot quicker than the cops can. I only want to keep you safe.” He places his hand over
his heart like it will somehow convince me he’s sincere and I roll my eyes.

  “You’re not going to leave until I give it to you, are you?”

  He grins. “No.”

  “Give me your phone,” I growl, against my better judgment, and he grabs his phone out of his pocket before handing it over. My desperation to leave this situation is stronger than my desire for him to not have my number. Besides, I can always block him later. After programming my number in his contacts, I hand it back to him and turn away.

  “Goodbye, Chance,” I call over my shoulder and his chuckle echoes through the garage as my phone beeps.

  555-011-3346:

  See you around, Darlin’

  Chapter Two

  Carly

  The sun beats down on me, unhindered by the gray depressing clouds that have been blanketing the city for the past week. It warms my skin and sinks into my bones, moving through my system like some kind of narcotic. The rumble of an occasional car driving over the cobblestone road that predates the Civil War in this part of the city slices through the chatter of the diners sprinkled at tables around me. A cool breeze brushes my hair off my shoulder, bringing with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers from the little family florist across the street with their windows wide open. By all accounts, it’s a perfect day and yet I can’t shake this foul mood that seems to have carried over from yesterday.

  “Here’s another sweet tea, Ma’am,” the waiter says with a forced smile as he sets the glass down in front of me and takes the empty one sitting on the table.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, scanning the sidewalk for my sister.

  “Are you ready to order yet?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. My sister should be here any moment.”

  I hope.

  Ivy was supposed to meet me here twenty minutes ago but, as usual, she’s late. I suppose I should know better at this point since that girl hasn’t been on time even once in her life. Hell, she wasn’t even born on time. They had to induce my mother and force my baby sister into this world. This is who she is and I somehow never remember to tell her to meet me early.

  As much as I enjoy this little café and its quaint patio where you can watch the city of Baton Rouge pass you by behind the safety of the gorgeous black wrought iron fence, my lunch is only an hour long.

  The waiter’s smile is strained as he flicks his gaze over to the empty chair across from me before glancing back at me and nodding. He turns and walks away. I would bet the entire trust fund that my mother forced upon me that he rolled his eyes as soon as his back was to me. Pulling my gaze away from him as he stomps back to the kitchen like a petulant child, I grab my tea and turn toward the street as I take a sip and my stomach growls.

  I search for Ivy’s face in the small crowd passing by the café but she’s still not here and I’m reaching the end of my patience. With a sigh, I turn back to the restaurant and lock eyes with my waiter. He’s standing behind the bar with another man and both of their gazes are trained on me. I barely hold back a smile when he rolls his eyes and walks off to go help someone else.

  I guess I should feel bad I’m essentially loitering but it’s nearing the end of the lunch rush and the surrounding tables are clearing out, so he can shove it. Then again, if my little sister doesn’t show up in the next few minutes, I may strangle her myself no matter how much I love the brat.

  My phone vibrates on the table and I lurch forward, reaching for it but stop short when my mother’s name flashes on the screen. Silencing it, I sit back and shake my head. A conversation with my mother is the best way to take my mood from cranky to homicidal and I don’t have the energy for it today.

  “Carly!” Ivy’s voice rings through the crowd and I glance up with a smile on my face. She beams at me, a radiant smile that lights up her entire face as she bustles over, waving off the hostess. She sinks into the seat across from me and I study her, trying to figure out what’s got her in such a good mood today.

  “You’re late,” I point out, trying to keep the irritation in my voice but it’s difficult. Her joy is contagious. It wouldn’t matter anyway. She brushes me off with a wave of her hand and an innocent smile that’s gotten her out of trouble often in her life.

  “Yes, I know. I had a million things to do today and the time just got away from me. I’m going to start setting my clock fast so I actually end up on time.”

  I scoff. “You say that every time.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you love me then, huh?” she teases. I shrug, keeping my face neutral.

  “You’re tolerable, I guess.”

  Her mouth drops open in mock outrage but before she can say anything, the waiter approaches our table, notepad in hand as he stares down eagerly at my baby sister.

  “Good afternoon, ladies. I’m Nate and I’ll be your waiter today. Can I get something started for you?” he asks, his gaze focused on Ivy. She looks up at him, batting her lashes as she dazzles him with her smile. I can almost make out the hearts in his eyes like the cartoons we used to watch when we were kids. Poor Nate here probably thinks he’s got a chance, but he doesn’t realize Ivy does not understand how to speak to anyone without flirting a little. She craves the attention and knows how to get it when she wants it.

  “The chicken sounds amazing, Nate,” Ivy says, laying it on thick, and I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing as he turns to me, his expression falling.

  “And you?”

  “Chef salad, please,” I reply as sweetly as possible and he looks even more annoyed as he jots it down and walks off. I scoff as I turn back to Ivy, watching her as she types out a text, a dreamy smile on her face I’ve never seen before. Now she’s got the heart eyes, but I seriously doubt it has anything to do with Nate. She glances up at me.

  “What?”

  “He was rude.”

  Her brow furrows and she looks back down at her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. “Who?”

  “Nate.”

  Her gaze meets mine again. “Nate?”

  “The waiter,” I say, nodding to the kitchen door where he disappeared.

  “Oh. I thought he was nice.”

  “Yeah, to you because you’re gorgeous.”

  Her head pops up mid-text and she rolls her eyes. “You’re insane. If I’m gorgeous, then so are you. We could pass for twins and you know it.”

  “Except you know it doesn’t work that way.”

  “Well, yeah, because you usually give off this ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe,” she says, waving her hand through the air as she focuses on her phone. “And I’m nice to people.”

  As I take a sip of my sweet tea, I glance out at the sidewalk, watching the crowd thin out as everyone heads back to work from their lunch break and sigh. There’s a damn good reason I like to keep most people at a distance and the last thing I need today is to dredge up those memories.

  “So, how’s the new job going?” Ivy asks after setting her phone down and I grin. This is something I can talk about all day. Only a few weeks ago, I was worried about my future and working a job I was growing to resent more and more every day. But when Ali was fired and offered a new job at an up-and-coming blog, she brought me along with her and I couldn’t be happier about it.

  “Great, actually.”

  “Yeah? Working on anything cool?”

  “I’m still kind of getting the feel for it and looking for something I can make my own. Mercedes is giving me free rein for now.”

  She cocks her head to the side, staring at me. “Mercedes?”

  “My boss,” I prompt. “Mercedes Richmond.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, my brain is fried lately.” Her phone dings with an incoming text and she almost knocks it off the table in her haste to answer it. I watch in fascination as a smile stretches across her face. After she types out a reply, she sets the phone back down and looks up at me.

  “Sorry. What were we talking about?”

  I cross my arms over my chest and put on my b
est “big sister” face as I stare her down, determined to get this information out of her. “You were just about to tell me who’s been keeping you so distracted lately.”

  “What… are you talking about?” she asks, her cheeks burning bright as she avoids my gaze.

  “Oh, give me a break, Vi. It’s been obvious since the moment you walked into the door. You’ve got that new relationship glow oozing out of your pores. I think it infected me.”

  She opens her mouth to deny my words, but she’s got nothing and she looks away.

  “Come on, just tell me who it is. I can’t wait to hear about the man who is making my baby sister so happy.”

  “Stop calling me your baby sister. I’m only thirteen months younger than you.”

  “So?” I ask, arching a brow. “You’re still the baby of the family. Now quit stalling and tell me his name.”

  She takes a deep breath and meets my eyes, looking nervous as hell. Okay, that’s got my attention. I straighten in my seat and wait for her to spill her guts.

  “Before I tell you who he is, I have to preface this by saying I was not expecting this at all. When I met him, I had every intention of running the other way but there was just something about him and I couldn’t fight it.”

  “God, I’m on the edge of my seat. Just tell me already.”

  She takes another deep breath and looks down at the table as she whispers, “Julian Henshaw.”

  The name immediately sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I stare at her with a blank expression, trying to figure out where I recognize him from and when it finally clicks, I gasp. “The mayor’s son?”

  She nods, refusing to look at me. “You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

  “No… I’m a little surprised. Tell me about him.”

  She blushes. “He’s so sweet, charming, and determined.”

  I raise a brow in question. “Determined?”

  “Yeah. When he set his sights on me, he would not give up until he won me over. I swear, I fought it so hard because on the outside, he’s everything we always said we’d never fall for but underneath it all, there’s something about him that drew me in.”