by Jen Davis
It didn’t help her name was inked in his skin. And he made damn sure she’d never know it.
“How’s Mike?” The words came unbidden.
She stopped with only a few feet between them. Her perfume was new. Subtle, it reminded him of fresh linen. Not the lavender scent he associated with her for so long.
“He looks…small.” Her soft reply reminded him of a time she wasn’t afraid to show him her vulnerability. It had been more than a decade since he’d seen anything but the hard shell of a businesswoman she wore like a second skin.
“The wreck. What happened?”
Her brow furrowed, and she started to shake her head, but he spoke before she could brush him off. “Don’t worry. We can go right back to hating each other afterward.”
“Some asshole was texting and driving. He didn’t stop at a stop sign and smashed right into the driver’s side door of Mike’s car. It flipped him over. Broke his legs, crushed his pelvis. It messed him up really bad.” Her voice shook at the end. “And the asshole from the other car is walking around without a scratch on him.”
He fought the urge to comfort her, to pull her into his arms and stroke her beautiful red hair. But she wouldn’t appreciate it. It would only upset her more if she realized he saw her hard shell cracking. “Is any of the damage permanent?”
She lifted one shoulder halfheartedly. “He says no, but I’m not sure he would tell me if it was. You know Mike; he takes the whole big brother thing seriously.”
He had always respected the way the man treated his sister. “Maybe I’ll visit him, see if I can find out how he’s really doing.”
This time it was Mandy who lifted her hand like she might reach out, but she dropped it quickly and smoothed her skirt.
Another tell.
“I would really appreciate it.” She bit her bottom lip. “He always liked you.”
“I always liked him. Thought he was going to be my brother, too, one day.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. Surely, the reminder of how close they’d come to a happy ending would make the sharp-edged version of his ex return.
Only, it didn’t. Her eyes looked far away as she nodded. “We all did.”
What is going on here?
She’d barely spoken to him in years, and she certainly never acknowledged their shared history.
Her gaze snapped back into focus. “I think a visit from you would be good for him. Maybe you could take him to a Braves game.” She smoothed her skirt again. “I really need to talk to Xander.”
His mouth dropped open as she slipped past him to the interior of the house.
Take him to a Braves game.
Was she fucking with him? Tugging off his hard hat, he tossed it on the ground and rubbed at his temples.
He hadn’t been to a baseball game in ages. Even thinking about Turner Field held his heart hostage, though maybe it would be better now since the team played somewhere else.
Who was he kidding? It didn’t matter where they played or how much time had passed. Braves baseball would always be a link to his past. A punch in the gut.
Associated forever with the first time he met the woman who’d break his heart.
***
13 years ago
April
The parking lot at Turner Field was filled to bursting with cars. It would have been impossible to find a spot if they hadn’t come on Scott’s old Harley. Kane’s brother always managed to find a place to park, even if it wasn’t always strictly legal.
“Thanks again for giving me your extra ticket.” Scott had won them in a Last Man Standing beer-drinking competition hosted by the hard rock radio station. “I’ve never seen a game in person.”
Scott puffed up. “It’s your birthday, K. That’s what big brothers are for.”
The crowd parted as they approached the entrance. Scott cut an imposing figure with his old Army Surplus boots and the leather vest proclaiming him a brother of the Skulls MC. His long, dark hair was down, and he had a red bandana wrapped around the top of his head.
It didn’t garner the kind of attention Kane wanted, although he was used to it. His father had started the stupid biker club, so the family had gotten wary looks his entire life. Scott thought it was respect he saw in people’s eyes. Kane recognized it was fear.
If he were walking by himself, he could’ve disappeared into the crowd. He could’ve been a regular guy with jeans and a vintage Guns N Roses T-shirt. But even if he kept his vow to stay out of the MC, he would never be a generic face in the crowd when walking with his brother.
When they made it to the front of the line, Scott presented the winning tickets and shrugged uncomfortably. “Sorry, we’re in the nosebleed section.”
“Are you kidding? Being here at all is a trip.” The energy from so many people was like a live-wire. His senses were on overdrive, from the smell of popcorn and grilled burgers to the din of the crowd. He’d never experienced anything like it.
“I’ve got a couple of bucks on me. You want a Coke?” Scott made the cash working a side job loading boxes at a warehouse. His brother had the kind of muscle mass he never expected to achieve.
It didn’t bother him, though. If he managed to finish his accounting courses at night school, he wouldn’t need bulk, only brains. He’d be the first one in the family to finish college. Hell, he was already the first to get his high school diploma.
He flashed Scott a thumbs-up, still soaking in the sights and sounds of the stadium.
“I thought you were supposed to be a good time, but all I’m seeing right now is a stuck-up bitch.” One man’s voice rose above the cacophony of sound.
He scanned for the owner of the disembodied voice.
“The only reason I agreed to come to this godforsaken pit is for your father’s box seats. The least you can do is make it worth my while.” There he was. The snobby shit couldn’t have been more than five-foot-nine. He had gelled-back blond hair and a white sweater vest over a short-sleeved button down. The guy stood only a few inches taller than the pretty redhead he was berating, but he was in her space. His face inches from hers.
The girl’s cheeks flushed pink, but she lifted her chin a fraction higher with every venomous word the man spat in her direction.
Without a second’s hesitation, he shouldered his way between them. He was taller and broader than the other man, but more importantly, he was harder, used to the kind of rough life Mr. Country Club had probably only seen on TV. “You got a problem, buddy?”
The asshole’s eyes widened, and he knew instantly no one had ever called the guy on his bullshit in his life.
A haughty look replaced the shock. “Do I know you?” As if he were the dirt on the bottom of the man’s shoe.
Ha. If a look was all it took to rattle him, he would never leave the house. “If you don’t adjust the way you’re talking to the lady, you’re about to know me better than you ever wanted to.”
He had very little patience for guys who refused to regard women with respect. His dad had always treated his mother like yesterday’s garbage, and though he learned the hard way there was nothing he could do about their relationship, it didn’t stop him from speaking up now. An unexpected wave of protectiveness rose toward the woman behind him.
The guy spoke over his shoulder to her. “Oh, this is rich. Are you slumming it, Amanda? Don’t want to give it up to me because you’re too busy getting it from Mr. Thrift Store Reject over here.” He turned his cruel gaze to Kane. “Tell me, Reject, does she spit or does she swallow?”
He didn’t hesitate. He balled his fist and slammed it into the asshole’s still-flapping jaw. It knocked the guy flat on his ass.
The woman stepped forward and curled her arm around his, startling him with her touch, then making him puff up in pride. “Don’t ever call me again, Chip. And if I find out you’re spreading rumors, trying to ruin my reputation, I will crush you. You think you’ve got clout in this town? You think you can take on a Griffin? I learned from the
best. My father eats toads like you for breakfast.”
Stepping deftly around the still-blustering Chip, she led Kane down the aisle. She didn’t stop moving until they got to the reserved seating. “You didn’t have to do that…step in, I mean.”
He rubbed her hand, which was still locked around his bicep. Her skin was soft and smooth. Delicate. His protective instincts swelled. “Yes, I did. That guy had no right to talk to you like he did. You deserve better.”
She shook her head, her red hair swishing across her shoulders. “You don’t even know me.”
“Every woman deserves better than the way he treated you.” It came out a little more forcefully than he intended. “Still, I’m sorry I kind of lost it. I probably could have found a better way to handle the situation.” He cleared his throat. “My name’s Kane, by the way.”
Her smile was like sunshine on his skin. “I’m Amanda, and it appears I’m going to be watching this game alone. Unless…you’d like to join me?”
Scott’s face flashed for a moment in Kane’s head, but if anyone would encourage him to accept an invitation from a beautiful woman, his brother would. He fired off a quick text of apology, then gave her his most charming smile. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday?” She raised a perfectly arched brow. “Well, Kane, let’s make it one you never forget.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Amanda
As she stepped back onto the construction site, Amanda wondered what her stepfather would think of the way she was running things. A love of construction prompted Charlie to start his company, and his hope for a legacy inspired him to give it his name. He’d told Amanda dozens of times over the years how satisfying it was to watch a crew build something up from nothing. He passed the same joy onto his son. Mike liked to drop in on builds just to see the parts come together in a whole.
She was a businesswoman. And while she liked construction as well as any other thing, creating the strategy behind the company’s success really got her blood pumping. Though Charlie would have rolled over in his grave if he knew, the exquisite home coalescing around her barely even caught her eye as she searched out the foreman in the backyard.
Of course, her indifference could have something to do with having her first real conversation with Kane in more than a dozen years.
Oh, she’d caught a glimpse of him a few times now and then. With him working for the company, it had been inevitable. She still couldn’t get over the changes in him, though. The long hair, the beard, and the scar cutting across his cheek. He’d grown bigger, too, bulkier, which made sense when she factored in the manual labor he did every day. From the outside, he’d become the very thing he swore he’d never be: a biker in his father’s club.
But his voice.
His voice made it hard for her to breathe.
He sounded exactly the same as he always had. Time had done nothing to change his husky baritone. Even worse, though, was the way he looked at her when he spoke. Like he considered her precious.
The man had every reason to hate her—and maybe he did—but there was no denying he still cared. It was a blessing and a curse. A small flame, a candle burning in the window of a home she could never return to. Maybe it would be easier to live without him if the candle ever burned out. Or maybe it would extinguish whatever part of her soul that still burned for him.
Not likely. She’d probably take that to her grave.
Shaking off her melancholy, she stepped into the backyard where Xander Karras was cutting drywall. The foreman was at least a decade older than she was, but he wore it well. Silver threaded his nearly jet-black hair, and his olive skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. He didn’t have Kane’s bulk, but his muscles were clearly defined, even through his thin flannel shirt.
She waited for the high-pitched whine of the saw to cut off before she called out his name.
He visibly flinched when he heard her voice, but after their last conversation, she couldn’t blame him. The delays from this build were costing the company money, and even though none of it was his fault, he’d borne the brunt of her frustration.
She held her hands up in surrender. “I’m not here to give you a hard time. I swear.”
His tense shoulders relaxed, but only a fraction. “What can I do for you, Miss Griffin?”
“First, I want to apologize for the way I behaved the last time we spoke. None of the delays and complications on this job have been your fault.”
He finally looked her in the eye.
“It’s no excuse, but the truth is, my behavior was more about my brother’s accident than the money we’ve been losing.” She leaned against one of the pillars supporting the patio overhang. “The money’s important, but Mike means everything to me.”
“I know.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his lined forehead. “We’re all worried about Mike. He’s a good man. If there is anything I can do to help while he’s getting better, all you have to do is ask.” His steady eyes spoke the truth of his words.
She took a deep breath and let it out. “Mike and I want to expand.”
“Expand,” he echoed.
“There’s a new development going up about five miles from here. Sandpiper Run.”
Xander nodded. “Yeah. A Berringer Homes project. I’ve heard of it.”
“They’re looking for another subcontractor. Their old one went under.”
“New development like Sandpiper, a lot of the houses will be on spec, and you know it takes a minimum of five months before we can turn a property around from an empty lot to a home.”
She stood up straight and closed the distance between them. “Yes, but Berringer is taking the lion’s share of the risk. The beauty of working with a developer is we get paid the same whether they sell the houses or not. As long as we do quality work and finish on time, we have a steady source of income.”
Xander swiped a half-full water bottle from the ground at his feet and unscrewed the cap. “What’s the downside?” He took a healthy swig before replacing the top.
“We’ll need to hire more men. I know it’s a particular challenge for you since you’re down two guys. Obviously, we’ll need to pay them as they work, which means I’ll need some upfront cash for payroll and for materials, but I’ve got it covered. It’s—Mike and I both respect you. We believe this is the right course for the company, but we—I—want to know what you think.”
She threaded her fingers together to keep her hands steady while he considered his answer.
Xander wasn’t the company’s only foreman. There were four others, two junior and two senior, but Xander never promised more than he could deliver, and his crew always did top notch work. The man knew this business like the back of his hand. There was no single employee she or Mike trusted more.
“It’s this or downsizing. Am I right?”
She nodded.
“I’d have to hire at least one more guy to pull my weight. I’m not sure when Will and Brick will be back at full capacity.” He paused. “I imagine you heard what happened to them.”
Her brow creased. “Perry told me about the shooting. It happened offsite, right? Do I need to be worried about any blowback at one of the work sites?”
“No.” Neither Xander’s face nor his tone belied even a hint of doubt. “Those men have never done anything but work hard for me. There’s always a place for them on my crew.” His eyes flashed, almost as if he were daring her to argue.
She didn’t. “Your crew, your call. If you need to hire another set of hands, you have my blessing. Forward me all his information when you have it, and we’ll get him on the payroll.”
His face relaxed. “Thank you.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making a good call. Berringer is a reputable developer, and semi-custom homes are a lot easier than full custom jobs once you get used to the plan options. You’ve got my support.”
She let out a b
reath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Xander wouldn’t tell her it was a good idea unless he really believed it. “Excellent. I’ll get the ball rolling.” She started back toward the direction from where she came.
“Amanda.” He spoke softly, but the hard undercurrent in her name stopped her in her tracks. “Why don’t you go around the side? I can’t imagine it would do Kane much good to run into you twice.”
His unmistakable admonishment squeezed her chest.
Was their history so obvious? Did everyone view her as the villain in their doomed romance?
She shoved down her questions and her doubts into an impenetrable place inside her, then smoothed her skirt and lifted her chin before escaping around the house, through the mud, back to her car.
***
Kane
The scent of fresh linen still teased Kane’s nose hours after he ran into Mandy at work. Back at the clubhouse, he imagined he smelled it even amid the thick odor of second-hand smoke clinging to his brothers’ clothes.
He took a deep pull from his longneck. If only he could drink his thoughts of her away. God knew he’d tried for years, but he’d never even come close.
How many nights had he sat on this very same recliner and tried to figure out what went wrong? How often had he choked back the waves of grief threatening to drown him?
Not tonight.
He backhanded the empty water bottle off the rickety table beside him, and it bounced off the wall with a satisfying thwack.
Why the fuck did she think it was okay to show up where he worked? Did it mean so little to her? Was she over it now?
He drained his Budweiser and reached for another from the cooler at his feet.
