by A. M. Myers
“Why?”
“So many reasons,” I whisper, a humorless laugh slipping past my lips. Nothing about this is funny.
“What if I just want to be your friend?”
I arch a brow. “Friends?”
He nods.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been out on a date but I’m not an idiot, Lincoln. I can see exactly what you want.”
“How long is a while?”
“Eight years.”
He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head like he can’t even comprehend what I just said. “Wow.”
“Yeah, and I get the distinct feeling that you’re a love ‘em and leave ‘em type, which I have no interest in and on top of that, this might be the worst timing ever seeing as my mom just died.”
He nods and I can see the wheels turning in his head. “Look, you’re not wrong about me but that’s not what this is about. I remember how it felt right after my dad died and even with my mom and two sisters, it was still confusing and lonely so I just want to be here for you.”
“As friends?”
He nods. “I know what you’re going through and I also know how to help you when things start get to be too much.”
I chew on my lip, considering his words. “And how would you help me?”
“It helps to stay busy and sometimes, just having someone to sit with you so you don’t have to be alone is everything. I can be that guy for you.”
The thought of having him around to lean on and turn to when the emotions are just too strong to handle is very appealing, especially with Theo back in Charleston.
“Okay, I’d like that.”
He smiles, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it and leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee.
“I’ve got to ask you a question,” he prompts and I nod. “Has it really been eight years since you went on a date?”
I laugh. “Not exactly but the last time I was in a relationship was eight years ago.”
“Oh, I see. You give me hell for being the love ‘em and leave ‘em type when you’re the exact same way.”
“Uh, no,” I murmur, a blush staining my cheeks. “It’s complicated but I haven’t been with anyone in eight years.”
“You mean… no sex?”
Glancing down at the table, I shake my head. “No.”
“Why?” he whispers, his voice bewildered and I laugh through my embarrassment. Pursing my lips, I pick at my coffee cup.
“I was a bit of a wild child in high school – anything that would make my mother lose her mind, I did it. A few weeks before graduation, I missed my period and my whole world came crashing down on me. I thought my life was over and I regretted all the stupid things I had done during my little rebellion.”
“So you have a kid?” he asks and I shake my head.
“No, thankfully it turned out to be a false alarm but it scared me enough that I broke up with my good for nothing boyfriend and became dedicated to getting my life back on track.”
“Okay… but that was eight years ago…”
I hear his unspoken question and nod. “For the first year or so, I made a point to stay single and focus on myself but after that, I promised myself I wouldn’t jump into bed or a relationship with just anyone. He had to be special and I guess no one has ever come along.”
“So you’ve just been living like a nun?”
I laugh, meeting his warm honey eyes. “Essentially.”
“Damn. The more I learn about you, the more interesting you get,” he comments and I meet his gaze, a blush rising to my cheeks as I smile.
“It’s all part of my master plan to trap you with a white picket fence and two point five kids. Now, it’s time to spill some of your emotional baggage,” I joke and he laughs, studying me as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“What do you want to know?”
I glance to the side of our table as a couple brushes by and wait for them to get far enough away before I turn back to him. “Will you tell me what happened to your dad?”
“Shit, you’re going right for the bull’s-eye, aren’t you?”
“You don’t have to…” I start, but he holds his hand up to stop me.
“No, it’s okay. And it’s only fair.” His smile falls away and he sets his coffee down in front of him, taking a deep breath. “My parents had this charter plane business up in Alaska, still do actually… anyway, they would take tourists on sightseeing tours and help deliver supplies to some of the smaller villages, stuff like that.”
I nod for him to continue.
“My mom asked me to cover her one day ‘cause my sisters had been throwing up all night long and I was pissed but I went anyway. My dad was just running supplies so it should have been an easy day. Right around the time I expected him back, his voice came over the radio, telling me that the plane had gone done and that he was losing blood fast. I called nine-one-one and talked to him until the radio went silent.”
“Oh my god, Lincoln,” I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes for our shared pain. “How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
A tear slips down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shit, babe,” he whispers, his voice full of pain. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Wiping the tears away, I shake my head. “It’s okay. Everything is still so raw for me that I cry at the drop of a hat these days.”
He nods, reaching across the table and grabbing my hand. “What happened to your mom?”
“We still don’t know,” I answer, my voice hoarse. “She was involved in a hit and run accident and Detective Rodriguez thinks the driver was drunk but there aren’t any witnesses or anything.”
“Rodriguez?” he asks and I nod.
“Yeah, you know him?”
He releases me and grabs his coffee, taking a sip. “The club works with him from time to time on cases.”
“Oh. What kind?”
Shrugging, he leans forward, propping his arms up on the table. “It changes. Sometimes he helps us and other times, we help him. It’s beneficial to both of us since sometimes, there are things that as a cop, he can’t do and vice versa.”
“Is the club super top secret or can you talk about it?” I ask and he laughs.
“I can talk about it to an extent. Why? What do you want to know?”
“Why do y’all do this? I mean, there are so many things you could do with your time, why go out of your way to help people?”
Nodding, he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. “We each have our own reasons for why we do this. Each member has watched the injustice of this world and wished we could have done something to stop it. Now, we do.”
“It’s just so different from what I’ve heard about other clubs,” I say and he nods again.
“It is but they weren’t always like that. Back before I joined, they had their hands elbow deep in all that illegal shit.”
“What changed?”
He shrugs. “I wasn’t here so I only have this information second hand but it seems that Blaze, our president, got shot during a deal and another member, Henn, was set up for selling drugs and went to prison. Blaze said it was like a light bulb went off and he realized he needed to step up and be a better leader, put the club on a better path.”
I lean forward and rest my arms on the table. “And what if the members didn’t agree with the new direction?”
“I think at that point, everyone was getting tired of it all but I’m sure they did have a few members leave.”
“How does the club survive if there’s no more money coming in?”
He laughs. “You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, just because they don’t run drugs and guns anymore doesn’t mean there’s no money coming in. The motorcycle shop has been running since before Blaze changed things, which is where I work, and afterward, he also started a P.I. business.”
“Huh,�
�� I hum, sitting back in my seat with my mind working in overdrive. I’m fascinated with the idea of his club and the work they do to help people who would otherwise be forgotten.
“Sorry, we were talking about your mom and kind of got off track,” Lincoln says and I glance at him.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. What was it you said about distracting me?”
He grins. “Glad I could help. I’m here for whatever you need.”
I nod. “Thank you. It still doesn’t seem real to me most of the time. My mom was bigger than life, so strong and vibrant that her dying in a car accident just seems impossible.”
“It’s harder when you don’t know what happened.”
“I’ve learned so much about who my mother was since her death but it’s only raised more questions. I’d give anything just to have one more conversation with her.” Tears sting my eyes again and I blow out a breath, looking up at the ceiling. “Sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize and anytime you need to rant, give me a call. I understand what you’re going through and I want to be here for you.”
Smiling through my tears, I nod. “Thank you, Lincoln.”
Chapter Seven
Tatum
“Have a nice day,” I chirp, pasting a smile on my face as the grumpy middle-aged man swipes his bag of chips off the counter and grumbles something inaudible. I doubt whatever he said was anywhere near polite, though.
“Yeah, you, too, asshole,” I whisper, rolling my eyes. How hard is it to just say thank you? I don’t even care if you don’t mean it.
“Tate,” my boss, Reed, calls as he steps out of the back office. “Why don’t you go stock shelves and I’ll manage the register?”
Nodding, I step out from behind the counter and sigh as I walk down the center aisle and turn toward the back room. Once there, I grab a pad of paper and pen before starting at the beginning of the first aisle and making my way down its length, writing down the items that need to be restocked before moving to the end cap and the next row. About halfway through the store, I feel someone’s gaze on me and glance up, catching Reed ogling my ass from his perch behind the register.
A low growl slips out of my mouth as I turn back to the shelf and try to ignore his inappropriate behavior. There was a time when I really liked this job – it was fairly easy and I was usually by myself while I worked – but six months ago, my old boss, Otis, retired and handed the reins over to his nephew, Reed. It’s bad enough that Reed is a college dropout who couldn’t stop partying long enough to pass his classes but turns out, he’s also a bit of a perv. His advances have been getting more and more blatant in the past three weeks and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to have a job.
The bell over the door rings and I peek over my shoulder as I write down another product that needs stocked. Lincoln struts into the gas station in all his bad boy, biker glory and my mouth goes dry as my pen trails off the page. Damn. It’s been two days since he suggested we just be friends and already, I know it’s not going to work. Not when just the sight of him is enough to melt my panties.
“Hey, Darlin,” he says, an easy grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as he walks over to me.
“Hey, yourself. What are you doing here?”
He shrugs, gazing around the store. “I was in the area and I remembered you saying you worked here.”
“And?” I ask again, arching a brow as I focus on the shelf in front of me. Maybe if I keep my gaze on the bags of chips, I won’t notice how his t-shirt clings to the muscles in his stomach like a second skin or how damn good he smells.
“And I wanted to see you.”
“Tate, this isn’t social hour!” Reed yells from the counter, his face red and I roll my eyes.
“Who’s that?” Lincoln asks.
“A punk ass little bitch who thinks he’s my boss.”
He barks out a laugh, glancing over his shoulder at Reed as he leans against the shelf.
“Tate!” Reed yells again.
“Shut up, Reed!” I yell back before turning my annoyed glance to Lincoln. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”
A wicked grin lights up his face and goose bumps race across my skin. “Sounds fun.”
“What do you want? If you haven’t noticed, I’m a little busy here.”
He stands up straight, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. “What time do you get off?”
A crude joke pops into my head and I bite back a smile as I peek up at the clock. “Ten.”
“Damn,” he mutters. “Well, how about tomorrow? You want to go do something?”
“This sounds an awful lot like you’re asking me out on a date,” I point out, moving on to the next aisle. He shakes his head.
“No, ma’am. Just want to hang out with you… as a friend, of course.”
I nod, flashing him a skeptical look. “Of course.”
“So?” he asks. “You free tomorrow?”
“Nope, sorry. I’ve got to work at the diner.”
As I peek up at him, the sight of him chewing on his bottom lip makes me smile.
“What time is your break tomorrow? Could I swing by and grab lunch with you?”
Sighing, I turn to him. “You’re awfully eager for someone who is just my friend. What are you really trying to accomplish here?”
“I swear, Tate,” he promises, placing his hand over his heart. The black and gray tattoos on his fingers hold my attention. “I’m just trying to be a friend. Like I said, it’s easier if you stay busy and I want to be here for you if you want to talk.”
I study his face for a moment, soaking in the sincerity shining in his eyes, before I see Reed watching us from behind Lincoln. He looks pissed and I know he’s going to make the rest of my shift hell.
“Okay, swing by the diner tomorrow and I’ll have lunch with you.”
If I hadn’t already said yes, his bright smile alone would have gotten the job done. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek that makes my head spin.
“See you tomorrow, Darlin’.”
He turns and I watch him walk out of the store before turning back to the shelf with a blush staining my cheeks.
“Was that your boyfriend?” Reed asks and I jump, glancing to the end of the aisle where he’s standing.
“That’s none of your damn business.”
His eyes narrow. “Why don’t you go be a slut on your own time, okay?”
My eyes widen as he turns, thinking he’s won and I resist the urge to chuck a flashlight at his head.
“Hey, Reed,” I call, using my sweet diner voice and he spins back around, a smile on his face. “Go find a bag of dicks and fuck yourself. If you ever speak to me like that again, I’m going to raise your voice a couple octaves.”
Laughter draws both our attention to the door where Lincoln stands, pride shining in his eyes. Pride for me?
“Sorry, y’all. I forgot a soda.”
Reed retreats back into the office, his face bright red and as Lincoln passes me, he whispers, “That was sexy as hell, babe.”
Closing my eyes, I can’t fight back my smile. Yeah, this whole “friends” thing isn’t going to last long at all.
* * * *
“Sweet Tatum, when are you going to kick all those other losers to the curb and admit your true feelings for me?” Devlin asks with a wicked smirk on his face and I bark out a laugh as Shaun and Rico whistle from the kitchen.
“What losers, Dev? You know I’ve only got eyes for you.”
His smile grows as he places one hand over his chest and holds the other one out to me. “My girl.”
Laughing, I refill his coffee before going down the length of the counter, refilling each cup.
“You know, Devlin,” I whisper when I get back to the other end of the counter. “I hear Gigi thinks you’re devilishly handsome if you ever want to turn that charm on someone who’s available.”
“Now, Tate, you know the only woman for me is my sweet Claire, God rest her soul.”
His smile is wistful as he shakes his head. “I will be happy when I finally get to see my girl again.”
“It’s kind of romantic,” Mia sighs as she comes up behind me and I laugh.
“Tate, you taking your break anytime soon?” Roger asks from the kitchen. I peek through the pass through and nod.
“Yeah. I’m just waitin’ on someone.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mia’s head whip in my direction. “Tatum Elizabeth Carter, do you have a date?”
“No, it’s not a date. He’s just a friend.”
She arches a brow. “He?”
“Well, now it’s getting interesting,” Devlin says, folding his arms over his chest. “Seems our Tate finally met a man.”
“You, hush,” I scold him and he grins. I haven't said a word to anyone about Lincoln yet so there will be hell to pay when he walks in and she recognizes him but I don’t even know what I would say. We’re friends but also…not.
“Yes, he.”
She turns to Devlin with a wide grin on her face. “Oh, this is about to get good, y’all.”
“You’re an instigator,” I tell her, shaking my head as I grab a plate off the pass through and set it in front of Devlin.
“And yet you still give me plenty of ammunition.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” I ask, laughing and she nods before her mouth falls open, her gaze locked on the door. I don’t even have to look. It’s clear from her expression alone that Lincoln just walked in.
“Hey, Darlin’,” he says. His deep voice washes over me and goose bumps race across my flesh.
“Oh, shit.” Shaun laughs as I suck in a breath and spin around.
“Lincoln.”
“You ready for lunch?” he asks, his gaze dropping down to my lips for a brief second before he meets my eyes again. God, I would give anything to feel him press his mouth against mine.
“Yeah,” I whisper before glancing over my shoulder and yelling, “I’m going on break, Rog.”
