by Emma Slate
“It’s not that interesting,” Colt drawled.
Joni rolled her eyes. “I thought you’d forgotten how to smile. I’m immensely glad to find it was just in hiding for the past few years.”
“Great. Now I’m saddled with two broads who like to give me shit,” Colt muttered.
“Saddled?” I asked. “You’ve been saddled with me?”
He shrugged, but didn’t reply.
“I could stay with Zip. I’m sure his offer is still good,” I taunted.
Colt’s face tightened and I looked away to speak to Joni. Her face had gone blank and the color in her cheeks had fled.
I frowned in confusion, wondering about her sudden change in mood. She’d obviously come directly from the hospital since she was still in her scrubs. “Do you live here, too?”
She smiled, but I could tell it was strained. “No. There’s no feminine touch here to speak of. It’s a dude paradise. Have you seen the giant flat screen in the living room?”
“You were the one who told me I had to have it,” Colt pointed out. “You’re also the one that has reality TV watch-parties at my place.”
“The screen is so high def you can see pores,” Joni explained.
I laughed, enjoying their banter. Colt was relaxed with her in a way he wasn’t with other people. Even with Zip, his vice president, Colt held himself apart.
“Where are the clothes you promised?” Colt asked.
“Laura is bringing them.”
Colt looked at his sister and sighed.
I didn’t like that sigh. “Who’s Laura?”
Joni glanced at Colt and raised her eyebrows. “You going to take this one?”
“Yeah,” I drawled in Colt’s direction. “You going to take this one?”
Colt glared at his sister who walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer and popped the top off. She took a sip and then said, “We’re waiting.”
Understanding registered and I threw a smile with just a little too much teeth at Colt. “Girlfriend?”
Joni snorted into her beer, but Colt’s glower only made her laugh harder. “Colt doesn’t have girlfriends.”
“Fuck buddy, then? You’re having your fuck buddy come over to clothe your new charity case?”
“She’s not my fuck buddy,” Colt barked. “She doesn’t belong to me.”
“Belong to you?” I repeated. “Joni, translate please.”
“Joni, wait on the porch for Laura,” Colt countered.
She didn’t push her brother, but instead took her beer and walked out of the room. I watched her leave, and when I was sure we were alone, I turned back to Colt who looked unperturbed by my outburst.
“Laura hangs around the club and fucks the bikers. Whoever she wants.”
“Well, thanks for not mincing words.” I frowned. “So she’s what…a Blue Angels groupie?”
“Basically.”
“But that’s so offensive.”
“To you maybe. She’s not forced into it. It’s a choice, until someone makes her an Old Lady.”
“And an Old Lady is what, exactly?”
“A biker’s woman. A wife or a steady girlfriend of a brother. They have the protection of the club, but it also means she’s off-limits to any other club member. And when there are parties with other clubs, Old Ladies are not fair game.”
“So, Laura sleeps with whoever she wants in the club and none of you care?”
“Some care more than others,” he stated.
“Do you care?”
“Nah, doesn’t bother me.”
“Are you still sleeping with her?” I demanded.
Colt’s smile was slow but hot. “No.”
“Do you want to still be sleeping with her?”
“No.”
I hated the relief that blasted through me. I had no right to be jealous. Colt could sleep with whoever he wanted.
His eyes dipped and I knew he was staring at my mouth. Joni’s return interrupted our moment. A curvy brunette with wide, brown doe eyes followed her. The woman’s tank top and mini skirt showed a lot of skin and tattoos, but her smile was wide and friendly when she greeted me.
“Into the living room,” Joni commanded.
“Why?” I asked, even as I stood up.
“Because that’s where all the bags are,” Laura said.
“Bags?” Colt asked as he trailed behind me.
“Bags,” Laura reiterated.
“We ran to the store to get you underwear and toiletries.”
“Then what’s the other stuff?” Colt demanded.
“Laura is helping organize the charity yard sale for the elementary school. I asked if she had any women’s clothes in teeny-tiny sizes.” Joni grinned. “Someone dropped off a bunch of stuff.”
“A lot of the clothes still have the tags on them,” Laura said.
“Wow,” I said, riffling through one bag and pulling out a pair of dark skinny-leg jeans. “This is great. Thanks, Laura.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Let’s separate them out and get the wash going,” Joni suggested.
“Oh, you don’t have to help me with that,” I protested.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Besides, your wrist must be hurting.”
“Sit down and let us do this,” Laura said.
“Look how cute these are!” Joni held up a pair of adorable red wedges I couldn’t wait to wear when my feet healed.
“And that’s my cue,” Colt said. “You guys got this?”
“Yes,” we all chimed together and then laughed.
Colt shook his head and glanced at me. “Do you like steak?” When I nodded he said, “Good. I’m grilling. You guys staying for dinner?”
Joni and Laura both declined and then looked at each other, which made my antenna go up. Colt either didn’t notice or pretended not to as he ducked out of the living room, leaving us to gab and examine the clothes.
The girls separated the garments into piles and Joni took the pajama load to the washing machine in the basement.
“So,” I began.
“We only slept together once. Long time ago,” Laura said as she cut off a tag on a gray V-neck T-shirt.
“Oh, that’s not…”
She threw me a smile. “You had that look.”
“What look?”
“The look like you were dying to know,” she teased. “It meant nothing, okay?”
“Doesn’t bother me if it did,” I countered.
Damn dirty liar.
Why did Colt let me think he and Laura had been a recent thing?
I wasn’t able to give it much more thought because Laura asked, “Why aren’t you staying at the clubhouse?”
“He said it had something to do with the parties, I guess,” I stated. “And he didn’t want me staying with Zip.”
“Zip?” Joni repeated her tone flat.
I peered at her closely and understanding finally dawned. Joni had a thing for Zip, but for some reason she wasn’t open about it.
“Zip offered his guest room, but Colt squashed that idea immediately.”
“Interesting,” Laura murmured.
“Very interesting,” Joni agreed.
Laura peered at Joni. “Do you think he—”
“Oh yes, most definitely,” Joni interrupted.
“It’s a good thing, right?” Laura pressed.
“Absolutely. Totally necessary. Long overdue.”
“I so agree.”
My gaze lobbied back and forth between the two women who were clearly speaking in code.
Laura glanced back at me and grinned, holding up a black halter dress. “I think you’ll look awesome in this.”
I was really starting to like her.
I wanted to ask Joni everything there was to know about her brother, but I battled my curiosity and shut it away. After a few more loads of laundry, Laura and Joni left, and I was alone with Colt in his home. Alone with a man I didn’t really know. So much had happened since he’d found
me curled up on the steps of his garage.
Now I was in his house, feeling like an unwanted intruder that had to be tended to, like a plant you had to water if you didn’t want it to die.
Colt popped a beer and handed it to me.
I took it, our fingers touching.
“Come sit outside with me while I grill the steaks,” he said.
I nodded and followed him out of the kitchen, past the table that had been set with plates and a salad bowl, to the sliding back door that led to the patio.
He gestured to one of the chairs with a blue cushion. I took a seat and watched as he lifted the hood, took a pair of tongs, and set two huge ribeyes onto the grill. They sizzled, and my mouth watered in Pavlovian response.
I searched for a topic of conversation, not wanting to sit in silence. “I like your sister.”
He grunted.
“I like Laura too,” I said, not deterred by his stoicism. “Both are incredibly kind. Generous.”
“They bring you some good stuff?” he asked.
“Yeah. They did.”
The early evening sun was still fully aloft and I took a moment to gaze at the acreage at the rear of Colt’s property. It was green and gold, and I could imagine large family gatherings here. Noisy with laughter and conversation. It was a nice vision.
“What are you thinking about?” Colt asked.
Startled, I realized he’d been staring at me for a few minutes while I’d been lost in thought. “Your house. Seems like it’s fit for a family.” I paused. “I saw the photos on the staircase wall.”
He fell silent again and I was almost sure he wouldn’t tell me anything about his life, but he surprised me when he said, “Dad was from Dornoch, a really tiny town in Scotland. Left home at seventeen.”
I shook my head. “Wow. Seventeen. He was still a kid.”
“Not him. He grew up tough.” He shrugged. “Anyway. He bought an old Harley when he got over here and decided to see the country. He was passing through Waco and met my mom.”
“Yeah?” I was completely riveted by Colt’s story.
Colt smiled. “Dad claimed he accidentally wandered into a cowboy bar. Mom was with her friend. Mom’s friend asked Dad to dance. Dad said yes but couldn’t take his eyes off Mom. When he was done dancing with her friend, he came back to where Mom was sitting and asked her if she wanted to get on the back of his Harley. They were together from that moment on.” He flipped the steaks. “He started the Blue Angels in Waco. Mom helped, actually. She grew up in Coeur d’Alene in biker culture. My dad liked the idea of living…freer.”
“Coeur d’Alene? My mom lived there briefly before moving back home to Waco and having me.”
“Small world,” he murmured.
“Small indeed.”
I thought he was done sharing, but I was wrong when he said, “She died when I was seventeen. Joni was thirteen at the time.”
“And your dad?”
“Lung cancer. Two years later, he was gone.” He shook his head. “When he got sick, he passed the gavel to his VP. Buddy was a good president, but he didn’t really want it. He knew he was just holding the title until I was old enough to lead. But after my dad died, I couldn’t stand to be here, so I left Waco and fucked around in Scotland.”
“Drinking?”
“Yeah.”
“Women?”
Colt sighed. “Yeah.”
“Fighting?”
He shrugged. “I’ve always been big for my age. I was never a bully. Some people need protecting. I like to protect. Sometimes that means using my fists.”
“You came back though. Why?” I asked.
“Joni. She needed me more than I needed to drink, fuck, and fight my way through Scotland.” He grinned in wry humor. “My head wasn’t screwed on straight, but she was just a kid. Fifteen without a mom or a dad. Realized I was being a selfish asshole leaving her with the club while I tried to get my own shit straight.”
I remembered when I was fifteen. Hormones, a teenager without a mom. Joni hadn’t had either of her parents. I’d at least had Grammie.
Colt pulled the steaks off the grill and set them on a clean cutting board. “Dinner’s ready.”
I hopped up and went to the sliding door and opened it for him since his hands were full. He brought the cutting board to the table, served us both, and then we sat down to eat. I couldn’t remember the last home cooked meal I’d shared with another person.
“How’s the steak? Cooked okay?” he asked.
“It’s perfect.”
“Not too bloody?”
I grinned. “Just bloody enough.”
“Your turn.” He reached for his beer bottle and took a sip.
“My turn what?”
“I told you about me. Now you tell me about you.”
I frowned in confusion. “You actually want to know about that kind of stuff?”
He arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
I blew out a breath of air, stirring the hair around my face. “My grandmother died. About two years ago.” I looked down at my plate, suddenly not hungry. “I’m glad she’s gone.”
“You are?”
I nodded. “I hate to think what would’ve happened if the Iron Horsemen had come to my home and Grammie was still alive. It probably would’ve given her a stroke. Better she’s not here to worry about me.”
We ate a few more bites in silence and then he asked, “What about your mom and dad?”
I shook my head. “Never knew my dad. He just wasn’t part of our lives. Mom died when I was five and left me with Grammie.”
“We’re orphans.”
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
He lifted his beer bottle and I held up mine.
“To orphans,” I said.
“To surviving.” He clinked his bottle against mine and then we drank.
When we finished dinner, I stood up, needing to shatter the intimacy we had shared in the kitchen. This was why I didn’t eat meals with people. Conversation was exchanged, stories about life, laughter over simple jokes. It was easy to fall into a rhythm, lulled into a sense that I wasn’t alone.
That I wasn’t desperately lonely.
I attempted to gather the empty plates but had trouble due to my useless wrist.
“Mia,” Colt said, his hand going to my good arm, stopping me from moving past him toward the sink and dishwasher. “Stop. You don’t have to clean up.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
He looked at me, his brown eyes intense.
I lowered the dishes to the table. “It’s been a long day. A really long day. I’d like to shower and go to bed. Will you plastic-wrap my cast?”
He gently let go of my arm. “Plastic wrap is in that far drawer and the rubber bands should be in there, too.”
I brought the supplies to the kitchen table, pulled up a chair, and faced Colt. Holding up my arm, I waited for him to tear off a piece of Saran wrap. A few minutes later, I had a plastic coating around my cast.
“I think you missed your calling,” I said. “You’re good at that.”
He grinned. “There’s a clean towel in the bathroom for you.”
“Thanks.” I scampered out of the room and headed upstairs, pausing a moment outside of Colt’s bedroom before moving along. I could hear the faint sounds of clanging dishes being loaded into the dishwasher.
The hall bathroom had a spacious tub and shower. Turning on the water, I adjusted the temperature, letting it get hot and steamy. I stripped out of my clothes and looked at myself in the long, rectangular mirror over the sink.
I was a fucking mess.
But I was alive.
I’d lived a lifetime in the span of a few days. I’d dropped my boss off at the bus station, escaped the bikers who’d come to my house, and kissed Colt this afternoon. Even now, my lips were remembering the shape and feeling of his. Between the lust and the heated banter, along with the intimacy of sharing our pasts, it felt like I’d known him a lot longer than
I had. I could get used to the idea of relying on him. His house was a home. Though it was masculine, it had personal touches. Touches I hadn’t expected from a man like him.
With Colt I felt protected. He wasn’t what I expected. Shelly had warned me away from bikers, and under normal circumstances I would’ve heeded her advice. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and Colt wasn’t an ordinary biker. As limited as my knowledge was, I knew he was different.
By the time I finished my shower, I was wrung out and ready for bed. I draped a towel around my body and then opened the bathroom door, almost barreling into Colt’s broad chest. I jumped back and let out a squeak.
“Sorry,” he said, his gaze drifting down before coming back up to meet my eyes. “I figured you’d want these.” He held up a pair of pajamas I had forgotten in the dryer.
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for them. The towel was slipping, and I grabbed for that too. I couldn’t hold both, and I felt the towel was more important.
My clothes tumbled to the wooden floor; both Colt and I didn’t notice as we continued to stare at one another. Something was brewing between us, something I would be smart to resist. I was about to open my mouth to warn him off, but Colt turned and stalked away.
Chapter 6
“Mia,” someone whispered. “Come on, darlin’, wake up.”
My gaze fluttered open and I stared into dark brown eyes with tiny lines at the corners. Sunlight winked through the blinds, telling me it was morning.
I sat up and absently ran a hand through my hair, wincing when I encountered a snarl.
“Why are you on the couch?” Colt asked as he stood over me.
His coffee colored hair was damp and he clearly had already showered. His white T-shirt showed off his muscular chest and the golden light of the sun highlighted the gorgeous ink on his skin. Ink I hadn’t been able to get a good look at yet.
Lack of caffeine was surely responsible for me reaching out to grasp his right hand. “F-O-R-T. Fort? What’s that mean?” I ran my fingers across his knuckles.
Colt made two fists and put them together. On the left hand were the letters U-N-A and then the Blue Angel’s skull with wings logo on the fourth digit.
“Fortuna,” I said. “Fortune in Latin.”
He looked impressed. “You got any ink on you?”
