My car was slammed into park, and in a rage, I kicked over, ripped up, and pitched the signs in the trash can. Finding a paint scraper in the garage, I went to scraping the red paint from the front window as tears flooded down my cheeks. Tiny red flakes of paint rained down on my arms and landed on the ground like bloody snowflakes.
Josie was pulling into the driveway as I was still scraping the red letters from the window. Her face registered complete and absolute shock as she took in the overflowing trash can and the paint on the window.
“Josie, I’ll get it all off, I promise,” I sobbed. My entire body was shaking, and I was beginning to have difficulty scraping the last of the paint from the window. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. She looked at me in disbelief then walked in the house with her hand over her mouth. I felt horrible. This was her home. Pain shot up my body as I dropped to my knees sobbing.
SO, THERE I STOOD on Steph’s porch, seven months after her wedding, trying to get up the nerve to knock on her door.
This is where my life has ended up.
My career was in shambles, and I had turned in my notice. A poor reference was not on the top of my list of things I wanted, and I figured it would be better if I left while Mr. Strankowsi would still be willing to give me a good reference. Leaving of my own accord seemed a better option than waiting for my employment to be terminated. He had assured me it wasn’t necessary to leave permanently, but self-preservation kicked in and I ran. Coward, my inner self whispered. That was me, it seemed, and I was disgusted with myself.
A deep breath filled my lungs, and my hand hovered over the door. Knocking as I let the breath out, I waited for someone to answer the door. If I hadn’t already cried every day since Josie asked me politely to vacate her home, and during the entire drive up here to Steph’s, I would have started crying again. My eyes were swollen and red, and I knew damn well I looked like shit warmed over.
Footsteps approached the door, the knob rattled, and then Steph stood there with her month-old son wrapped in a fuzzy blue blanket and cradled to her shoulder. She took in my swollen, red eyes, the bag at my feet, and my car packed to the gills. Her concern was evident as she ushered me in to her living room and encouraged me to sit on the couch. She bustled into the kitchen, bringing me back a bottle of water.
“Becca, honey, what the heck is going on? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Not that you aren’t welcome, shit, but I’m surprised to see you. I thought you had classes.” Her brow was furrowed, and I knew she was not going to accept any bullshit excuses. While I may have thought I was all cried out at the door, I felt tears slip down my cheeks as I told her about everything that had happened over the last seven months culminating in the vandalism at the house and the hate letters I had received, Josie asking me to leave, and ultimately, my resignation.
“I couldn’t stay there anymore. My mom wanted me to stay with her, but after all the vandalism Josie’s poor house suffered before she finally asked me to leave, I couldn’t risk doing that to my mom. Besides, I was so tired of hearing about how wonderful Trevor was and how I should give him another chance. It was getting sickening and causing us to argue all the time. It’s insane how much my mother thinks of Trevor. For the life of me, I cannot understand why she thinks he’s so fucking perfect.” It was like I couldn’t even talk to her anymore. My own mother. It was breaking my heart.
“Don’t worry, hon, we’ll figure this out. You can stay here as long as you want. Or I can help you look for a place of your own. Rent and houses are pretty cheap here. Probably way cheaper than down in CB. It’s up to you though, no rush. The selfish part of me is just thrilled to have you here. You know, I could actually use a hand down at the Oasis if you want something to do. I can pay you. I wouldn’t expect you to work for free.” The last she added, with a hand held up to quiet my arguments, when I tried to tell her she didn’t need to pay me if I was staying in her home.
So that was how I found myself in the guest bedroom, curled up on my side in the comfy double bed of my best friend’s house. Lying there staring into space, I let my mind wander. All the “what-ifs” in the world weren’t going to change the state of my life. Nor would they stop me from wondering what things would have been like if Trevor had never called and I had taken Hollywood up on his offer to come back here with him after the wedding. Instead, my career and life were in shambles, leaving me feeling isolated and betrayed. My heart felt beaten and shredded. Hollywood hated me for whatever reason, and here I was in his town. God, my life was shit.
What am I going to do? My eyes grew heavy as my brain ran circles but never found answers.
IT WAS PROMISING TO be a beautiful day for the end of April, and I was enjoying the rumble and purr of my bike as the asphalt rolled by. The sun was just rising and the damp chill from overnight was still lingering, but I barely noticed as the wind whipped past. After spending the weekend with my family, I decided I would swing by Reaper and Steph’s to ride to the shop with Reaper. I had to drive past their place anyway, and I loved seeing Remi and little Wyatt. My new nephew was a miniature of his daddy, no doubt, but much cuter in my opinion.
As I waited for the gate to open after punching in the entry code, I noticed an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Pottawattamie plates. Who the hell was this? Double checking the holster clipping my pistol into the back of my pants, I slowed and cautiously rolled up the driveway. I put my kickstand down and shut my bike off next to the strange car. Usually Reaper would come out if a bike pulled up, so when he didn’t, I quietly walked up to the door, scoping through the windows for signs of anyone in the house. Just as I pulled my pistol out, the door opened and Reaper came out.
“Jesus, bro! Put that shit away! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He quickly scanned the yard, ensuring there was no threat he hadn’t been aware of before shaking his head at me and waving me in. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Okay, so he didn’t seem concerned about the car and he looked right at it. Must be someone they knew.
“Whose car?” I asked as I followed Reaper into the kitchen toward the sound of voices and the smell of bacon cooking. Remi giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile. My smile quickly faded, and I felt like someone had punched me in my guts when I stepped into the kitchen.
“Hey, handsome! You coming to join us for breakfast before you steal my husband?” Steph was all smiles and sunshine this morning. Remi jumped down from her chair and ran to me, wrapping her arms around my legs as she squealed, “Unco Mason! Unco Mason! I missed you!”
Steph gently scolded Remi to get back to the table to finish her breakfast and let Uncle Mason sit down for his. When I scooped her up and tugged on one of her dark, curly pigtails, she gave me a sticky kiss that smelled suspiciously like maple syrup. She went back to eating her food after I placed her in her seat.
My eyes stayed on Steph as I thanked her for my plate, and then I quickly developed intense focus on my food. Anything to not look at her.
Jesus, she was here.
Questions circled in my brain… What’s she doing here? Did she leave the asshole? Hell, I didn’t know if he was an asshole, or not, but in my mind, because she was with him and not me, he was just an asshole. No. No. No. It didn’t fucking matter, and I didn’t want to know. Okay, maybe I did, but I wasn’t going to ask or engage her in conversation. Her voice, as she thanked Steph for her plate, felt like warm honey pouring over my body. It tempted me to taste her to see if her mouth would taste as sweet as the sound of the voice coming out of it.
What the fuck?
I shoveled my food into my mouth faster. The sooner I finished, the sooner Reaper and I could get on the road.
Of their own volition, my eyes darted in her direction repeatedly. In all seriousness, I really wasn’t trying to look at her. Every time I glanced her direction, she seemed just as engrossed in her food as I was. During about the fifth glance in her direction, our eyes met when I looked up. Her cheeks bloomed in bright pink blotches
and her mouth was slightly parted as her fork stopped halfway from her plate to her mouth. Despite the flush to her cheeks, she appeared pale, and I couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under those captivating eyes, making her look strained and exhausted. Once we made eye contact, it was as if neither of us could look away. It was like being mesmerized.
Neither of us took much notice when Steph said she was taking Wyatt to change his diaper and feed him, nor Reaper taking Remi to the bathroom to wash her up and get her dressed. The silence at the table hung heavy. We just kept looking at each other, not saying a word, as if we were both waiting for the other to break into the quiet first.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I took another bite of my food, chewing it simply out of habit, because I sure as hell couldn’t taste it anymore. After swallowing what felt like a wad of cotton, I placed my fork on my plate and looked up to her. She sat pushing the last of her food around on her plate.
“What brings you to town?”
“It’s good to see you again.”
“Sorry, you go ahead…”
“Oh sorry,” we both spoke simultaneously each time, which brought out a nervous laugh from her. A fat curl fell from the clip she had holding the tumbling mass of red on top of her head. Without thought, I reached over to tuck it behind her ear.
Fuck!
The spark I felt when my fingers brushed against her cheek and ear unnerved me. For some reason, being this close to her made me feel like a bumbling teenager with his first girl. Shit, though. Stuff like this didn’t happen to me. I grabbed myself by the balls, because I wasn’t going to look like a bitch in front of her.
If her quickly indrawn breath was any indication, she wasn’t unaffected by my touch either. Her eyes had met mine in a startled glance at our contact. She felt it too. Damn, I felt like I was going crazy, so I was glad it wasn’t just me.
“Ummm, well, it’s a long story that I would rather not get into right now. How have you been? You’re looking, umm, good.” Her cheeks remained flushed. The image I had been carrying around in my mind did absolutely no justice to how fucking gorgeous she was in the flesh, despite her weary appearance. Having her sit here in front of me was taking my breath away. When her compliment sunk in, I couldn’t help but grin. She thought I looked good.
Shit, it didn’t matter. I didn’t really care. Right?
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself, Red.”
She wrinkled her cute nose and smirked at me calling her Red, or maybe at my compliment—though calling her hair red was such an understatement. It was a rich auburn with fiery highlights and deep burgundy underneath. Shimmering in the sunlight that filtered through the kitchen window, it beckoned me. My hand ached to allow the silken strands to slip through my fingers again, but I stubbornly kept my hands on the table.
“You don’t need to lie to make me feel better. I look like shit, and I know it.” She stood and gestured toward my plate as she prepared to take hers to the sink. When I handed her my plate, our fingers touched again. The plates momentarily shook in her hand before she took a deep breath and turned toward the sink to rinse the plates. There was that spark again, but this time my dick started to twitch as well.
Down, boy.
She turned and leaned against the counter with her hands resting on the edge on either side of her hips. The sun shining through the window behind her head illuminated her hair even further. Before I was aware of what I was doing, I stood and walked toward her until I straddled her legs and placed my hands on the counter at her sides, essentially corralling her. Leaning in until my lips grazed the shell of her ear, I inhaled her honeyed essence. God, she still smelled so sweet.
“I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Becca. I thought you were beautiful the first night I saw you, and I think you’re beautiful right now,” I whispered in her ear. “I don’t lie. You look like you have a lot on your mind, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still fucking gorgeous or I don’t still want you.” Despite my resolutions to stay away from her, I tipped my head and leaned in to brush my lips across hers. What I intended to be a quick, chaste kiss, deepened into a possessive claiming when she parted her lips. A soft moan slipped from her, and those slender hands reached up to curl around the collar of my shirt.
Pulling away, pissed off at myself for giving in to my inner desires, I let out my inner asshole. “So, how’s Trevor?” Her eyes widened and she tried to push me away.
“I don’t want to talk about him with you,” she ground out. “Let me go.” She continued to push on my chest as her head dipped down and away.
She was killing me. She didn’t need to be with him. Fuck.
My mind screamed that this woman was mine, and I wasn’t going to let her go. Ever. How had I thought I could? Despite my promises to myself and my sister, there was something powerful between us, something that couldn’t be ignored.
“Bec…,” I whispered, and her eyes shining with tears met mine. Our lips crashed together again. The salt of her tears mingled in our kiss.
I wasn’t sure how long we stood there devouring each other before someone clearing their throat broke through our haze. We broke apart quickly, and I watched her quickly dry her face, bite her bottom lip, and look at the ground. Her heaving chest and flushed cheeks gave away the effect the kiss had on her. My heart surged in my chest, it was beating so hard. After taking a deep breath, I leaned in to whisper in her ear before I turned to meet Reaper’s questioning gaze. I grinned at him and walked out the door.
My bike was idling at a low rumble, and I was flipping through songs on my iPhone until Pop Evil’s “Boss’s Daughter” started to play. Reaper swung a leg over his bike as he looked at me and shook his head.
“What?” I asked him, as if I had no idea what he was thinking. He shook his head again as he smirked and started the motor. We pulled out of the gate and ran through all our gears in a mere heartbeat as we sped down the road toward the shop.
There was nothing like the freedom of racing the wind on a cool morning. The grin I couldn’t keep suppressed stretched ear to ear as I raced down the road handlebar to handlebar with Reaper. We had a lot to talk about, Becca and I. Hell if I knew how, but Becca was going to be staying here and, come hell or high water, she was going to be mine.
MASON’S WHISPERED WORDS BEFORE leaving this morning ran through my head as if on a perpetual loop. “This is not over. You are here and you are mine, Becca. Let it sink in good, baby girl.” Absently scrubbing the dishes in the hot, sudsy water, my mind continued to wander.
Shit. I hadn’t seen him in months, yet one touch of his hand against my cheek and ear as he tucked my hair behind my ear and my panties were wet. When he kissed me against the sink, I swore I was about three seconds away from climaxing just from tasting his mouth on mine. He hadn’t even moved his hands from the counter on either side of me. The only contact had been our lips and my arms around his neck.
And in case you’re wondering, no, I did not plan that and, no, I did not even realize my arms were moving until I felt the worn denim of his collar and the soft but prickly ends of his hair, which he still wore short in the back, under my fingertips.
The whole situation had me wondering what the hell was going on. Damn, I was a more than a little confused. When he left my room in Vegas, and then after the way he treated me at the wedding, I figured he truly hated me and never wanted to see me again. He had given me the cold shoulder when he first entered the kitchen this morning too. Then he suddenly reached out to tuck my hair back. His hand barely touched me, but I couldn’t believe the current that shot through me at his touch.
He was still sexy as hell. The images of him I had tried to keep buried over the last seven months flooded back with a vengeance. The way his jeans rode low on his hips and snug on his ass, the feel of his abs and chest as I raked my nails and fingertips over them, the feel of his hot skin against mine. It was like yesterday.
Oh shit. Okay. Too far.
It was on
e thing to remember how good looking and hot he was, another to remember the intimate details of our one night together. But damn, what a night it had been.
Shit, I was in trouble.
What exactly did he mean when he said it wasn’t over and I was his? Just the thought of his whispered words had my nipples hardening and tingling again. Lordy, I was really, really in trouble. Could he possibly still want me? Or was he just being an asshole, fucking with me?
“Sooooooooo… do you want to tell me why I just got a call from Hollywood asking me to invite him for dinner tonight?” Steph’s smug question had me at a loss for words. The glass I had reached to set on the dish drying mat nearly slipped out of my hands. Lost in my head, I hadn’t even heard her come back in.
“Honestly, I have no clue.” A fluffy puff of suds was left in the sink after I pulled the plug to drain the water. The slight sounds of the tiny bubbles popping sounded like firecrackers going off in the silence of the room. My soul felt raw. It felt like any words I spoke were inadequate to answer the questions I could see spinning in her mind.
Turning slowly, leaning on the counter in the same spot Mason had kissed me had my heart rate jumpstarting as a deluge of feelings rushed through me. Holy hell, I was screwed. My arms crossed in an unconscious protective manner over my chest. There was a defiant spark in my eyes as I met Steph’s eyes.
“Hey, hoochy momma, don’t look at me like that. I highly doubt he is dying to come have dinner with me and Reaper, so that leaves little ol’ you. Hmm, I wonder why that is? I think Hollywood wants to try for round two with you.” Steph may be my best friend, but I seriously could smack that smirk off her face right now.
Grrrr.
“Bitch, please. He and I had one single night seven months ago. It’s highly unlikely he’s pining for me or wanting to rekindle anything.” My attempt at dry humor and sarcasm was met with laughter from my supposed best friend.
Demented Sons Series Volume One: Books 1-4 (Demented Sons MC Iowa) Page 37
