by Sarah Peis
“You didn’t think to check with me before you purchased a coffee machine worth two thousand dollars?” The vein on his neck looked like it was going to jump at me any second.
“But it was a bargain. They are usually over four grand. I saved you two thousand dollars.” How did he not understand this? It was simple math.
“I could have saved four thousand dollars if you hadn’t even bought it. We don’t need a coffee machine. Return it.”
Both my hands were clutched tightly around my mug, and I hoped what I was about to tell him wouldn’t make his head explode. “Well, there might be a teeny tiny problem with that. Because you see, when it’s a highly discounted item, they don’t accept returns.” The last part was said in a rush, and I was inching closer to the door. Admittedly, I should have thought this whole thing through a bit more. But who would have thought he wouldn’t be happy with a brand-new coffee machine at half price? Everyone loved coffee.
He noticed my retreat and stomped closer. “Where are you going?”
“Me? Nowhere.” I tried to sound innocent, but it came out more like a squeak.
“Stay where you are. We are not done here.”
My feet had other ideas and continued to move backward ever so slowly. I was close to freedom.
“Can’t we just agree to disagree?”
“Agree to disagree? Are you fucking with me? You just cost me a lot of money. Since you didn’t ask me if you could buy the machine, and I would never have approved the purchase, I refuse to pay for it. I guess you’ll be here a bit longer than you thought. This time working off a coffee machine.”
My feet stopped in shock. “What? You can’t do that. I did you a favor, and I know you can afford it. You are making a lot of money. You are so far in the black you could buy an island. A small country. Disneyland. How amazing would it be to own Disneyland? Or a castle, then you could—”
I was too busy thinking of the things he could buy to notice his approach. When I blinked and remembered I was supposed to make a run for it, he was in front of me. The first thing I noticed was his smell. I loved the soap he used. I should ask him about it. The second thing I noticed was the tight line of his mouth. A mouth that was normally nice and full. The third thing was his eyes that were blazing fire. Very pretty fire, but fire nevertheless. My mouth went dry and shut instantly. At least I hoped it was closed.
“I don’t want to buy Disneyland.”
“Then how about an island? You really do need a holiday. A few months on the beach would loosen you up a bit.”
“I don’t waste my money on bullshit. That’s why I have it. I will add the two grand to your debt. If you keep this shit up, you’ll be working here for the rest of your life.”
I knew I had lost when his right eye started twitching. That definitely wasn’t a good sign, and for once in my life, I shut up. He brushed past me and stalked out of the room. So much for making friends with coffee. He acted like I offered him salad.
The rest of the day went marginally better. I sulked for a bit, then made more coffee, which the guys loved. When I had sufficiently licked my wounds, I started on the work schedule.
I made everyone write down their booked appointments and transferred them onto a spreadsheet on the computer. I didn’t dare talk to Jameson, but at least I got everyone else. They also explained to me how long they would need for each job so I could assign them accordingly. By the time I entered all the current jobs, my eyes were blurry and I could feel a headache coming on. I dreaded riding my bike home.
The door opened, and I lifted my tired head from the pile of papers it was resting on. “Honeycakes. Got something for you,” Landon said and shook a set of keys in front of my face.
“You fixed my car?”
He dropped the keys in my hand and nodded. “I fixed your car.”
“You are my hero,” I exclaimed and hugged him. “Does that mean I get to drive it home? No more riding the devil mobile?”
“I just had to replace your spark plugs and radiator. Also did your oil change and you need new tires. But, yes, you’re good to drive it without risking your life.”
“I’m so happy right now.” I released him and, yes, clapped my hands. “How much do I owe you?”
Landon’s mouth twitched, and he grinned at me. “Nothing. All on us.”
I blinked once, twice, and when he was still there, I asked, “How?”
“You are part of the team now. We look out for each other. And that means we all pitch in when it comes to fixing your car. The parts were cheap, and it didn’t take long to replace them. Jameson would never let you pay.”
I was so happy I felt tears spring into my eyes. I wasn’t used to handouts.
“Why are you crying?” Landon held up his hands and cast a panicked glance at the door. “I thought this was a good thing.”
“It is a good thing,” I mumbled through my tears.
He stumbled backward. “I should get back to work.” This was accompanied by another frantic look at the door. He wanted to get away from my puddle face but was too polite to just bolt. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, the panic in his voice evident.
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine, which was proven when I started crying in earnest. And then came the hiccups. Big fat tears were running down my cheeks. “Just so grateful.”
The door opened again, and through the haze of my tears I saw Jameson. Humiliation seemed to be my trusted companion these days. He was the last person I wanted to see me cry.
“The fuck did you do?” he shouted at Landon whose eyes were still trained at the door.
“Nothing, man. I told her the car was done, and she started crying.”
“Out,” Jameson barked, and Landon tripped over his own feet in his haste to do just that.
Jameson turned me around to face him, his hands on my shoulders. “Why the tears?” he asked, his tone gentle.
I sniffled, grateful the hiccups were gone. “I take care of myself. Always have.”
“We didn’t try to take away your independence. We just wanted to help.”
The tears kept falling, and I swiped at them, frantic to make them stop. I heard a loud inhale and a muttered curse, and then I found myself crushed against Jameson’s chest.
“If you tell the guys about this, I’m going to make you clean the toilets for a month,” he said into my hair, his voice gruff.
I buried my head in his chest and put my arms around him, holding on as if my life depended on it. And maybe it did.
He whispered gentle words and stroked my back. We just stood there, me sniffling into his shirt, him holding me patiently. I guess he wasn’t scared off by tears. And was I seriously hugging Jameson? Did I fall asleep at the desk again? If I did, this was a damn good dream. And if it was a dream, that meant dream Jameson wouldn’t mind if my hands wandered a bit lower.
I had almost made it to my destination when he squeezed me tighter. “Stop right there.” Dream Jameson was as much fun as real Jameson. I should probably let go anyway before I started humping his leg.
With one last inhale, I peeled myself off his comfortable chest. “I’m sorry about losing it like that. It’s just that this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He swiped his thumb across my cheek, wiping away the last of my tears. “I gotta get back to work.”
And he was gone. I stood in the silent office, wondering if it had been a dream after all.
“You coming tonight?” Clay asked. He was leaning on my desk and drinking the cup of coffee I had made him earlier. Jameson and Landon had both been avoiding me for the rest of the week, pretty much sprinting out of the room as soon as I walked in.
I eventually cornered Landon in the kitchen when he was too desperate for a coffee to pay attention to his surroundings. After many promises to never cry in front of him again and make him coffee, he ruffled my hair and stopped bolting out the door every time he saw me.
“What’s tonight?” I asked.
&n
bsp; “We meet up at Elmar’s every Friday. Kind of a team thing, so when I asked you if you were coming, I shouldn’t have phrased it as a question because it really wasn’t.”
I counted the hours of sleep I would get if I came along. Maybe if I left early I would be able to get some rest before I had to be at Sweet Dreams tomorrow morning. I was supposed to be off tomorrow, but the two staff members Rayna had were off sick. After many threats and the promise to cook me dinner every day next week, I agreed to come in. If I was being honest, I would have helped her out either way, she was my favorite aunt after all. But dinner was an added bonus.
I guess I could swing by for a bit and still be able to get up tomorrow. “Sure, I’ll drop in.”
Looking happy with my response, he tipped his chin in my direction and went back out to the garage.
I got lost in work for a few hours and didn’t notice when Landon came back.
“Time to shut down your computer, honeycakes. The boys already left. You’re with me,” he said, pushing my chair to the side. He leaned over my keyboard and studied the screen. “How do you turn this thing off?” He stretched his body up and over the desk, trying to find the button.
“You looking for dust behind there?” I fought the laugh that threatened to bubble out of me.
He shot me an annoyed look. “Just turn it off so we can go.”
I did as I was told, making sure to throw him a grin, and followed him out the door. He locked up after me, and I noticed I didn’t have a key for the door. “How come I didn’t get a key? What if I want to come in super early? Or stay back?”
“If you make it past the four-week mark, you’ll get one.”
I was definitely going to stay past the four weeks, whether I wanted to or not. And my debt had grown instead of getting smaller, so I would be here for a while.
“Care to make a bet?” I asked.
“What are you offering?”
“If I make it past the four-week mark, you have to tell Jameson that it was you who broke the fridge door.”
Landon made a face as if he’d bitten into a lemon. “Awww, come on, that’s not fair. It was an accident. And I stuck it back together.”
“With masking tape. It’s so obvious. And once he finds out, he’s going to be on everyone’s ass until someone fesses up. If you just admit to it, we’ll all be saved from the Spanish Inquisition.”
And I would also get to watch Jameson yell at someone else for a change. Evil? Maybe. But hey, I never said I was a nice person. Anything to take the attention away from me was welcome.
Landon raised his brows at me. “And what do I get if I win?”
“I’ll wash your car for a month.”
He seemed to consider this for a moment before he spoke again. “Only if you do it in your bikini.”
I could do that. There was no way I’d lose. I held out my hand. “You’re on.”
We shook on it and got into Landon’s car. He insisted on driving me, and since I took every opportunity not to have to sit in my rust bucket, I gladly accepted.
I soon found out that Landon was a full-blown “I don’t stop for old people or kids” maniac. He drove like he was late for dinner and his mom made cherry pie. A little fact about Landon I found out early on: he would do most things for cherry pie.
He squealed around every corner, cut off more people than I could be asked to count, and made me grip the seat so hard my fingers went numb. When we finally made it to Elmar’s, he was as happy as ever, and I was shaky from watching him nearly kill a few pedestrians and a bird.
I stumbled out of his car, holding on to the frame for dear life. My knees were shaking, and I took a deep breath.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “You look a little green around the nose.”
I flipped him off and walked toward the big brick building, my eyes flying from the bikes outside to the customers standing near the door. I hesitated, not sure if I should go inside or cut my losses and take a cab home. Trouble liked me a little too much, and I really shouldn’t go looking for it in a place like that. I never had much luck in biker bars.
Landon noticed my hesitation and put his arm around me. “Don’t be a chicken. It’s a great bar. They make the best nachos. Nothing is going to happen to you in there. Trust me. And Jameson is friends with the owner.”
“Don’t know what surprises me more. That Jameson has a friend or that he is a biker at heart.”
Landon guided me inside, and I was a surprised at the cozy interior. Leather chairs, dim lighting, and mahogany floors made up the main part of the bar. We walked past groups of bikers who all called out to him in greeting, which he returned with a nod. A huge bar took up the middle of the room. The furniture on the other side looked much the same, only some of the seats were couches.
“The guys are over there,” Landon said, pointing at a booth tucked in the corner.
I scooted onto the bench next to Clay, and Landon pulled up a chair at the end of the table.
“Finally,” Mason complained. “I’m starving, and J made us wait for you.”
“Got here as fast as we could, but there was a speed camera on Burton, so had to slow down,” Landon said. Him slowing down meant stepping on his brakes so abruptly I was thrown forward in my seat, and his tires screeched in protest, followed by rapid acceleration as soon as we were past.
I punched his arm and scowled at him. “You nearly killed me. I was writing my last will two seconds after we pulled away from Drake’s. There is no way I’m ever getting in a car with you again.”
The waitress came around, interrupting my rant, and put her hand on Landon’s arm. “Laney,” she exclaimed and thrust her ample cleavage in his face. He didn’t seem to mind at all, and I shook my head at his ogling. She was pushing her duck lips into some kind of pout, as far as they would allow her to anyway. It was working if she was going for the surprised sex doll look. “You didn’t call me last week.”
“Sorry, honey. Lost your number. How about we get reacquainted after dinner?” He winked at her and placed his order. I made a gagging noise next to him, and he put his hand on my leg and squeezed in warning. I nearly jumped out of my seat at the sudden invasion.
When he refused to let go, I tried prying his hands off me, but he held on strong. “Let go, Laney,” I hissed under my breath.
He eased his grip. “Only if you promise to be a good girl and stop with the judgment. And don’t call me Laney.”
After another failed attempt at removing his giant claws, I gave in. “Fine,” I hissed.
He released my leg, and I rubbed the spot he had manhandled. Bastard. He was going to pay for that.
The waitress was looking at me and I frowned, unsure what she wanted. Clay nudged me and said, “What do you want for dinner?”
Right, dinner, the reason we came here in the first place. I hadn’t even looked at the menu. “Do you have burgers?”
“Of course we do,” she said, her face telling me she thought the question was stupid. “You want fries too?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Jameson was sitting on the other side of the booth talking to Mason, and I couldn’t help but study his profile.
Landon nudged me out of my moment of weakness and leaned in close. “What are you doin’, honeycakes?”
His voice startled me, and I jumped out of my seat in surprise. I knocked into Clay who spilled his beer all over his shirt.
I was too busy ogling Jameson to notice Clay’s narrowed eyes. A hand on my arm interrupted my obsessive stare. “Are you finally going to realize that he is a good guy and make lots of pretty babies together? Because I’m ready to become an uncle.”
I choked on my own spit and turned all my attention to Landon. “What the fuck, what? I mean fuck what?” My inability to form a coherent sentence did not exactly help my case.
I got up and out of his reach before I dug my hole any deeper. Unfortunately, my sudden movement put me in the path of a biker that was walking past our tab
le. Fuck my life, but what bad juju was this? I must have seriously pissed off someone to have all this shit coming my way.
Maybe it was the baking pan I nicked from Rayna last week and didn’t tell her about. I knew I shouldn’t have done that.
The biker I accidently punched in the guts looked murderous, and he was big. As in he eats little kids for breakfast and loves to throw big logs around in his free time. I scooted back in my seat. “I’m so sorry,” I stuttered, my eyes huge saucers, too afraid to blink.
“What the hell is wrong with you, bitch?” He was definitely not taking this well.
“No-Nothing.” I knew I walked into him, but hey, look at the size of me compared to him.
He grabbed me roughly out of the booth, and I yelped. “I spilled my drink because of you.”
“So-Sorry.” I tried again, but if anything he looked even angrier. My feet were dangling off the ground, and I was going to wet myself if he didn’t release me soon. I could feel my bladder weakening by the second.
My chest was struggling with the effort to pull air into my lungs. I was going to die. This was it. I waited for my life to flash before my eyes, but nothing happened. Instead I was pulled back against a hard chest, and scary biker dude let go of me. He looked over my shoulder and nodded his chin.
“Jameson. She belongs to you?”
“She does. And I don’t appreciate you putting your hands on her.”
Biker dude put up said hands and stepped back. I sank into Jameson in relief, and he pulled me closer. My legs were shaky, and if I didn’t have someone holding on to me as tightly as Jameson was right now, I was sure I would end up in a heap on the floor.
“She punched me.”
“It was clearly an accident. I definitely heard her say she was sorry.”
“Keep a shorter leash on her, or the next guy she assaults won’t be as understanding as me.”
Did he just call himself understanding?
“Not your problem. Now, are we done here?” Jameson’s voice allowed for no argument. He was scary big and scary angry all the time, and they clearly knew all about his temper here.
