Bayou Devils MC: The Complete Series

by A. M. Myers

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” She glances away for just a second but it’s long enough to tell me that she’s lying. “I just hate it when people are rude.”

  I nod. “Mmhmm.”

  “So, this girl you were helping yesterday,” she says, playing with the frayed corner of the menu. “Why was she coming down to Florida?”

  “This guy started stalking her back in Baton Rouge and she needed to skip town before things got too intense.”

  She narrows her eyes, studying me. “Do you guys deal with things like that a lot?”

  “I guess, yeah. More than we’d like to and definitely more than we should need to but we’ve been on a mission to help those who can’t help themselves.”

  “Why, though?” she asks, shaking her head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s amazing but it’s a lot to handle and y’all don’t have to do this.”

  “It is a lot but we all have our reasons for why we do this. Each one of us has experienced the horrors of domestic violence in one way or another and now we just want to do our part to help.”

  She stares at me for a second before looking at the table and shaking her head. “Do you wanna hear something crazy?”

  “Sure.”

  “I have to keep reminding myself that we haven't even known each other for twenty-four hours because when I'm around you it just feels so easy. I feel like I could talk to you about anything.”

  I nod, wondering why she feels she needs to be cautious around me and hold herself back. “You're not the only one feeling that way.”

  “So if I ask you why it is that you do this work, would you tell me?” She looks up at me with hope in her eyes and a blush staining her cheeks as her teeth sink into her full bottom lip. It’s a tantalizing picture and I find myself fighting the urge to tell her my entire life story.

  “Maybe someday,” I answer instead.

  She flashes me an adorable pout. “But not today?”

  “No, not today.”

  Before she can reply, the waitress walks up to the table and practically slams our drinks down in front of us. Juliette and I stare at each other with wide eyes as she rips her notepad from her apron and gives us an expectant look.

  “What do you want to eat?” she asks, practically snarling at us. A defiant look flashes in Juliette’s eyes as she reaches into her purse and yanks her wallet out. I watch in amazement as she pulls out a hundred dollar bill and slips out of the booth before bringing her thumb and middle finger to her lips. A loud whistle pierces the air and the restaurant falls silent, every single patron and employee staring in our direction as she climbs up on the seat and waves the money in the air.

  “This goes to anyone who wants to take over our table and give us polite and professional service.”

  “What the fuck?” the waitress hisses as I hide my smile behind my hand. A murmur ripples through the crowd but I can’t take my eyes off Juliette. She’s fucking magnificent. Another waitress sets a stack of plates down on the counter and steps out into the dining room. Our waitress turns to her with a death glare. “Seriously, Kitty?”

  Kitty shrugs. “My kid needs braces.”

  “This is bullshit,” she whispers, turning away from our table and shoving Kitty with her shoulder as she passes her. After she disappears into the back, everyone else turns back to their meals as the chatter resumes and Juliette sits across from me again.

  “I’m so sorry about that, y’all. Robyn can be…”

  “A bitch?” Juliette provides and Kitty laughs.

  “Well, yeah. What can I get you two to eat?”

  Straight ahead of me is a glass door that leads into the gas station connected to the restaurant and I smile.

  “Actually, let’s get out of here.”

  Juliette turns to me with a scowl. “Why?”

  “I have an idea. Just trust me,” I say. She studies me for a second before nodding and handing the hundred dollar bill to Kitty who starts shaking her head.

  “I can’t accept that. I didn’t do anything.”

  Juliette grins and forces the bill into Kitty’s hand. “Sure you did! You made Robyn go away and that’s well worth a hundred dollars. Well… ninety-five dollars once you take out the cost of our drinks.”

  “I…” Kitty snaps her mouth shut and shoves the bill into her apron pocket. “Thank you.”

  She turns and heads back into the kitchen as we stand up and I hold my hand out to Juliette as I flash her a grin. After grabbing her bag, she slips her hand into mine and a feeling of peace settles over me as I lead her into the gas station.

  “What are we doing in here?” she asks, scanning the small store.

  “Finding food.”

  We walk through the aisles, holding hands and grinning as we grab chips, sandwiches, drinks, and candy before carrying our haul up to the cashier and dumping it all on the counter. He rings us up and tosses everything into a bag before handing it over to me. Once we’ve paid, we walk back out to the truck and I release Juliette’s hand to lower the tailgate.

  “Ta-Da,” I say and she laughs.

  “What am I looking at?”

  I set the bag of food down. “A picnic… on the side of the interstate.”

  “A picnic?” she asks, arching a brow at me and I shrug.

  “Or we could go back inside and let sweet Robyn wait on us.”

  She stares at the door of the restaurant for a moment before grabbing my hand and climbing in the bed of the truck. As soon as she’s situated, I climb up behind her and start passing out our food.

  “So,” she prompts as she unwraps her sandwich. “What do you do when you’re not out saving women?”

  “I work at the club’s bike shop.”

  “And that’s your dream job?” she asks before taking a bite of her sandwich and I tilt my head from side to side.

  “Kind of… I’d really love to build custom bikes and restore old ones.”

  She nods. “That’s really cool and it sounds like something you could easily incorporate into the work you already do. Would your president be on board to add another aspect to the business?”

  “I think he would be but I haven’t asked.”

  “Why not?” she asks and I sigh as I grab a chip, popping it into my mouth as I look up at the interstate.

  “I don’t know… not good timing, I guess.”

  “That’s bullshit,” she proclaims. I whip my head toward her and narrow my eyes as she covers her hand with her mouth. “I’m sorry. That probably sounded really bitchy but in my opinion that’s just something you tell yourself to feel better about the fact that you haven’t gone after what you want.”

  I flinch at her honesty as I clench my fists. “What do you do then if you’ve got all the goddamn answers?”

  “I run my own company,” she answers, challenging me with her gaze to be rude to her again and I suck in a breath and let it out before running my hand through my hair.

  “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  She nods. “It’s okay. I’m sorry if I was harsh but I meant what I said.”

  “Understood,” I say, nodding in agreement. “What does your company do?”

  “I’m a jewelry designer.”

  My eyes widen as I look up at her. “Yeah? Anything I would have heard of?”

  “You been buying a lot of nice jewelry lately?” she asks, arching a brow before she drops her gaze to her food. I laugh and shake my head.

  “Uh… no, not exactly.”

  She shrugs. “Probably not, then.”

  “That’s cool, though,” I reply as I lean back against the side of the truck bed. “I’d love to see some of your designs.”

  Meeting my gaze, the corner of her lip twitches. “Not today.”

  “Touché.”

  “You know about art?” she asks as she mirrors my pose, leaning back against the side of the truck, and studies me. I shrug.

  “A little bit. My mom is an artist.”

  “Yeah?” She sits forward, her
eyes lighting up. “What does she make?”

  “All sorts of things - pottery, jewelry, paintings, sculptures… the list goes on. My dad built her a little shop in their backyard and she’s got it full to the brim with stuff.”

  She grins. “That’s so cool. Does she sell her stuff anywhere?”

  “Yeah. She’s got a little table at the artists market on the weekends. Does pretty well for herself actually. Not that she cares. She’s a total hippy - all about the joy of creating.”

  “She sounds a lot like my mom,” she replies, sadness creeping into her tone and I reach over to grab her hand. She blinks and her gaze meets mine, almost as if she was pulled from her memories by my touch.

  “What was your mom like?”

  A wistful smile tugs at her lips as she looks over my shoulder. “Amazing. She was a musician, a business woman, and like I said, a total hippy but to me, she was just the woman who tucked me into bed at night, danced around the kitchen with me while we baked cookies, and told me everyday that I could do anything I dreamed up. She always urged me to reach for the stars. My dad always says that she would light up any room she walked into and people just adored her.”

  “Oh, so that’s where you get it from,” I whisper and her gaze snaps to mine as tears gather in her eyes.

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  I nod. “I meant it. There’s something special about you, Juliette. I’d have to be blind and stupid to not see it.”

  “Funny,” she muses, her gaze flicking over my face like she’s trying to memorize me and my heart pounds in my chest. “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Juliette

  “I’m bored,” I whine, scrunching up my face as I lean forward and turn the music down. Sinking back into my seat, I turn to the window. We’ve been back on the road for a few hours now but my ass hurts from this seat and I can only stare at the trees along the side of the road for so long before I lose my mind. Sawyer laughs, drawing my attention back to him with the warm, addictive sound.

  “Is there something you’d like me to do about that?”

  I flash him a grin. “Let’s play twenty questions.”

  “Oh, God,” he groans as he throws his head back and rolls his eyes. Arching my brow, I cross my arms over my chest and pin him with a look. He may be perfectly content with not talking as he drives us back to Louisiana but since I’m not able to turn my phone on and I didn’t think far enough ahead to bring a book with me, I need him to help entertain me. Glancing over at me, he sighs. “Fine, but no stupid questions.”

  “And what exactly constitutes a stupid question?”

  “What’s your favorite color?” he asks, imitating a typical teenage girl voice as he grabs a lock of his hair and twirls it around his finger. I throw my head back and laugh.

  “What’s your sign?” he continues. “What’s your favorite food? Shit like that.”

  Once I get control of my giggles, I nod and meet his gaze as I try to make my face serious, giving him a mock salute. “Got it. No stupid questions and absolutely no fun will be had in this truck.”

  “You’re lucky I’m driving and can’t do anything about that comment,” he growls through the grin on his face and my heart thunders in my chest as the heat builds in his eyes. From just one look, I’m imagining myself stripping naked in front of him and letting him have his way with me. My nipples pebble and warmth flushes over my skin as I clamp my lips together, pretending to be thinking of my first question.

  “Okay,” I whisper before clearing my throat. A question pops into my mind and I flash him a smile. “If everything in your house had to be one color, what color would you choose?”

  He glances over at me with wide eyes before shaking his head. “You sassy little shit.”

  “What?” I ask, trying my best to look innocent as I fight back laughter. “It wasn’t one of your banned questions. Answer, please.”

  “It absolutely was one of my banned questions!”

  I shake my head. “No, I remember clearly. You said I couldn’t ask you your favorite color and I didn’t.”

  “Semantics,” he scoffs and I bite my lip to keep my laughter at bay.

  “Not really. It would actually be a smart idea to not pick your favorite color. I mean, if you had to stare at it all day long everywhere you went, you might get sick of it so that’s why you would choose…”

  “Like a gray-ish blue, I guess,” he grumbles and I can’t help but laugh as I reach across the cab and nudge him. He shakes his head. “What?”

  “You can totally tell that your mom is an artist just from that answer.”

  He scowls at me. “How?”

  “Most guys would say gray or blue but you got real specific.”

  “My turn,” he replies, ignoring my comment and I roll my eyes as I nod. “Name a cheesy ass song that you have memorized.”

  “Oh, this one is easy,” I say as I turn toward him more and start singing. “Maybe it’s intuition, but some things you just don’t question, like in your eyes I see my future in an instant and there it goes, I think I found my best friend…”

  “What the hell is that?” He laughs, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind but also… kind of like he likes it.

  “Are you kidding me?” I exclaim, trying my best to look horrified through the silly grin on my face. I feel weightless each time he flashes me that grin of his and it feels impossible that we just met because talking to him is so easy and feels so right. “It’s “I Knew I Loved You” by Savage Garden. Classic nineties love ballad.”

  He shakes his head. “You and I listen to very different music from the nineties. I like good stuff.”

  “Hell no. You can’t judge it before you listen to the whole thing,” I say as I grab his phone and look up the song. As the music begins playing, I hold the phone up above my head and sway back and forth as I sing the lyrics again. When the chorus hits, I clench my fists and really sell it. “I knew I loved you before I met you, I think I dreamed you into life. I knew I loved you before I met you, I have been waiting all my life.”

  “All right, I think that’s enough,” he says, grinning as he grabs the phone from my hand and shakes his head. He turns the music off and glances over at me. “Your turn.”

  Keeping in theme with my first question, I flash him a mischievous look. “If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life…”

  “Nope,” he interrupts. “Ask something else.”

  “Come on,” I urge and he shakes his head, looking amused but the look in his eyes tells me he’s not going to give in. I sigh. “Okay… If you found a suitcase full of money, what would you do with it?”

  “Give it to the club so we could help more people.”

  I tilt my head to the side as I study him. Most people would choose taking it to the police or keeping it for themselves but I really like that he would choose to help others. My thoughts drift to the amount of money currently sitting in my bank account. Maybe once we get to Baton Rouge, I can donate some money to the club. Back when I was in college, I remember hearing stories about how the Devils had turned things around and it’s nice to see that they were true.

  “Is it my turn?” he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts and I nod. “What are you thinking right now?”

  “I was thinking about the stories I used to hear about y’all back when I was in college. When we lived in Baton Rouge when I was kid, the way people talked about the club… they were terrified. You’d never catch certain people on that side of town but I love how much has changed and I’m kind of overwhelmed thinking about all the girls you’ve helped.”

  “I get that way sometimes, too,” he replies. “It’ll hit me out of nowhere how many lives we’ve had a hand in saving and it makes the ones we couldn’t help just a little bit easier to bear.”

  “Have there been a lot?” I ask, reaching across the truck and laying my hand on his arm. He glances down at it before sucking in a breath.


  “No, not a lot but more than we’d like.” Sadness and regret clouds his eyes as he stares out at the interstate, almost like he is somewhere else right now and I want to do something to help him.

  “I think it’s my turn to ask another question.”

  He glances over at me and offers me a grateful smile. “Shoot.”

  “Where would you rate yourself as a kisser on a scale from one to ten?” I ask and his brows shoot up as a slow smile stretches across his face, all hints of pain gone.

  “You been thinking about kissing me, sweetheart?”

  I shake my head. “No. Who said that? I just asked if you were good at it.”

  “Mmhmm. Well, I’ve never had any complaints,” he says and I roll my eyes as I cross my arms over my chest. My eyes fall to his mouth for just a moment before meeting his eyes again but from his wide smile, I know he caught me.

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe all the girls you kissed before were just polite and didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “Maybe,” he muses, his gaze flicking between me and the road. “Guess you’ll just have to test it out yourself to really know for sure.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks and goose bumps break out along my flesh. “I suppose so.”

  “Now it’s my turn.” He flashes me a wolfish grin and butterflies flap around in my stomach as I nod. Oh, God. What is he going to ask? “What are your three favorite places on your body to be kissed?”

  My lips part and I suck in a breath as a shiver works its way down my spine. Without warning, an image of him leaning in and pressing his lips to my neck fills my mind and I squirm in my seat. “You’re going to go there?”

  “Oh, no, darlin’. You went there, I’m just following along.” He arches a brow in challenge and I stare at him, debating my answer as I chew on my bottom lip. Even though I started our conversation in this direction, a mix of emotions run through me as I drop my gaze to my lap. The more time we spend together, especially in this truck, the more I like him. My mind drifts back to Baton Rouge and I remember going out to clubs with Mercedes before Rick and I started dating. I always felt a little bolder around her so I summon a little bit of that now as I meet his gaze with a smirk.