Spartan (Forsaken Sons MC Book 1)

by Jessica Joy

  “I’ve already told you; she deserves more than that,” I say, meeting his glare. Gage looks at me for a moment, as if he can see right through me, and sadly I don’t doubt that the fucker can do just that. He must be satisfied with what he finds because he gives me a nod.

  “Well if ye turn into a bumbling fool every time ye get an eyeful of Tits McGee over there…” I grab another apple from the bowl on the counter and chuck it at his head. This time he snatches it out of the air and takes a bite as he gives me a challenging look. “Am I wrong?”

  I grumble and go to take another drink from my mug and mumble into it, “Not a total bumbling fool.”

  “I believe yer exact words were ‘like a fuckin’ twelve-year-old caught with his dick in his hand.’”

  “I… fuck off.”

  “Nice” he deadpans. “So. We’ve established ye revert to a prepubescent moron when Sweet Tits is around. What we need to do is give ye a chance to pull yer head out of yer arse, yer dick out yer hand, and that stanky-ass foot outta yer mouth and talk like a human.”

  “My feet aren’t stanky, asshole,” I grumble at him. Seriously, there has to be some tiny shred of dignity I get to keep today, right?

  “Have ye smelled yerself after one of yer benders? Shut the fuck up and let yer Leprechaun work his magic.”

  “There’s a joke in there somewhere about finding the pot-o-gold at the end of the rainbow”

  Gage lifts the pan he’s washing and swings it at me, ready to beat me over the head with it. I lean back in my seat, laughing as I dodge his attack.

  “Ye done ye fuckin’ crusty jizz sock?” he growls at me, banging the pan down on the counter. I roll my eyes at his dramatics and bow my head in deference, signaling I’ll let him speak. “Thank you. As I was saying, we need to get ye two alone, so ye’ll have a chance to maybe string a few words together in her presence. Though when she realizes ye have the IQ of a salted banana slug, she’ll run the other way. We gotta give ye a fighting chance at least...” he trails off, clearly deep in thought and I watch for steam to come out his ears from the effort. After a few moments he slams the other pan he had been drying down on the counter, yelling “that’s it!”

  “Enlighten me dear Godfather,” I say, sarcasm dripping in my tone.

  “Take her for a drive. Don’t care where ye take the lass, just have to get her alone where she can’t run away from ye again when ye spout yer idiocy,” he smiles at me, looking entirely too proud of himself.

  “Gee Gage, sound a little more like a serial killer why dontcha?”

  “Fuck you, I’m brilliant. Take my truck. Yer piece of shit’s fuckin’ awful in the snow. Havin’ to deal with yer company is enough torture, don’t want to scare the poor lass half to death in yer shit car too.”

  “It's not a piece of shit. It’s a ‘66 Nova. Just because you have some insane thing against muscle cars doesn’t mean it's shit. But I will admit it’s not the greatest in the winter... Fine. I’ll take your rusted-out piece of shit truck and blame it on you,” I agree, giving in.

  Gage throws down the dish towel in his hand with a flourish and gives me a self-satisfied smile. “There! It’s settled. My work here’s done. I’ll leave ye to fuck it up on yer own.” with that he offers me a chin lift and heads through the house to the front door, slamming it behind him.

  I can’t help but sit at the counter and laugh. As much as I hate to admit it, Gage has a point. Getting some time away from distractions, and escape routes, with Tessa might be exactly what I need, or trapping myself in the cage with a lioness. Now I just have to convince her what a great idea it is.

  Chapter 9

  Sawyer

  After Gage left, I spent the whole damn day plotting the grand “Help Sawyer Bag His Lass” scheme. The little glimpse I caught of her yesterday, while gratifying to find out my little stunt paid off, it wasn’t enough to satisfy my curiosity. I know I’ll hear about the dreaded gutter incident well into my next life, and should absolutely claim temporary insanity because of it, but I still call it a success.

  Gage made me swear to stick to his master plan and to, ‘keep my shirt on,’ but damn him. I need to see her, and soon. Yes, I know it makes me sound like a goddamn serial killer, but I really do just want to just see her and see for myself that she is getting settled. She looked so lost last time I saw her, so overwhelmed by more than just the house and job Clay and Alice dropped on her. She’s carrying the weight of the world and trying her damnedest to not let anyone see it.

  In the spirit of seeing my lovely neighbor again, I decided at around 2 AM last night that I would fix that loud as fuck screen door of hers. I ran to the hardware store earlier this morning, let’s just say they were surprised at the first thing in the morning emergency purchase of screen door parts, and have been waiting for her to come home from work. No. I am not a stalker, I just like to casually look out my window every five minutes for the last four hours. I’m a friendly neighbor who just wants to do a kind deed.

  Yeah, all the psychos say that before they shove the girl in the basement and try to wear their skin like a suit.

  Around 3 o’clock I finally decide it’s close enough to when she should get home that I can get started, not planning on talking to her first, it’s nicer that way. She has that whole ‘strong independent woman who don’t need no man’ vibe going, and I don’t doubt for one second that it’s accurate. She doesn’t need a man to take care of her, and from the little bit of interaction I have had with her I don’t think she wants one either.

  So why the hell are you trying to be exactly that Mr. Doesn’t Fuck with Moms?

  I’d like to plead the fifth to that line of questioning your Honor, so let’s just go with it. I’m being helpful, and let’s just leave it at that. I make my way over to her front porch and get to work on the door without a word. After a couple minutes Tessa comes to the door, whipping it open with a frantic look on her face. Okay, maybe I should have knocked to let her know I was out here and not just some creep trying to break in. Her eyes land on me and her brow furrows in confusion. Clearing my throat, I wave lamely up at her from my crouched position on her front mat.

  Well glad THIS isn’t awkward, you dumbass.

  “Sawyer? What the hell are you doing?” she asks, her frantic, near panic morphing into something bordering on anger. Great.

  Piss her off right off the bat. Good move. Get it together and salvage this mess.

  “Came over to fix the door for ya. You know, playing good neighbor and all,” I offer what I hope comes across as an easy smile.

  “You’re what? Why? I... Uh… why?”

  This is going great. What the fuck did you expect dumbass? That you could come over with no plan and she would throw herself into your arms? Punch yourself in the dick for that one. Right damn now. Figure something out before she calls the cops, idiot.

  “I’m fixing this loud as shit door. Can’t have a squeaky door spoiling your little voyeuristic adventures again, now can we?” I tease.

  “My… what?” she stammers in shock, a deep blush creeping up her neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Regardless, you don’t have to fix my door. Thank you for the offer though. Let me just go call my landlord and have him handle it,” she rambles, that frantic look returning to her eyes as she tries to talk her way out of this situation. She really is too damn cute.

  “Clay’s your landlord Tess. Clay’s a Brother, and a bossy fucker at that, I’d be the one he would send to fix it anyway. I figured, may as well skip the, ‘Sawyer! Get your lazy ass off that barstool and do some work.’ shouting step and just fix it for ya,” I say with a cheeky little smirk as I try and turn back to my work.

  Tessa opens her mouth to argue but freezes for a moment; closing it again with a “humph” and a pout as she connects the dots. She stares down at me for a few moments, internal conflict clear on her face, but a look of resolve comes over her features and she seems to visibly relax with acceptance. She gives a silent nod
and walks back into the house, leaving the main door open when she goes. I take that as a sign for me to continue my work.

  Tessa appears in the doorway again a little while later with a water bottle. She stands there for a moment before she smiles down at me and holds the water to me. I take it from her with a soft smile and quiet thank you before turning back to my task, not wanting to push her farther than I already have.

  About an hour later I have the screen door fixed and moving on a new hinge, with a new handle and lock. I’m packing up my tools and cleaning up the mess when Tessa appears in the doorway again, this time with Evan on her hip. He looks at me skeptically at first, but when I offer him a grin and say hi to him, he breaks into a giant toothless smile and giggles.

  “All set here. You should be able to lurk and ogle in peace and no one will be the wiser now,” I tease.

  “Ah gee, my hero. Though I wouldn’t have to lurk if this dude that lives across the street didn’t keep begging for attention running around half naked in the snow. You know, as totally normal, sane humans do,” she responds with a surprising amount of snark along with that heart stopping smile.

  “Well I’m sure that stunning specimen is only trying to scare off any shady characters that might be lurking nearby, showing just how intimidating he really can be.”

  “Yeah, more like prancing around like a peacock vying for the females’ attention”

  “And did said peacocking have the desired effect?” I ask, shooting her my most suggestive smirk and an eyebrow waggle which is promptly repaid with a deep blush creeping up her neck and over her cheeks. She clears her throat and adjusts the baby on her hip before looking back at me, her features schooled now, the blush and teasing glint in her eyes of a moment ago carefully tucked back away behind her mask.

  “I haven’t gotten my first check from the diner yet so I can’t exactly pay you for everything you’ve done, but would you like to stay for dinner tonight as a thank you? It’s pizza and movie night. You are welcome to join us. That is if you are partial to Disney movies.”

  Wow, I seriously was not expecting that turn. I figured I had a lot more work ahead of me before I got an invite, but hell if I’m gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “Disney movies are my jam. Give me some Woody and Buzz bromance any day and my cooking sucks so I’d love to stay for dinner. I’ll finish cleaning up here and be back shortly; anything I can bring?”

  “Um, great. If you want a beer you might want to bring some. I don’t really keep a lot of booze in the house. I have everything else covered. See you in a little bit then Sawyer,” she says, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she says my name, and fuck if I don’t love the sound of her voice curling around it.

  “Sounds good, see ya in a bit,” I offer as I gather up my stuff and turn to go.

  Chapter 10

  Tessa

  How the fuck did this happen? I go from having one conversation with a stranger over a week ago to inviting him over for dinner. What the fuck is wrong with me!? Apparently, all reason leaves my mind, fleeing the raging lady-boner that surges forth when I see him and his tight jeans and strong back...

  No! Stop it… I need to focus!

  I have been panic cleaning for the last hour praying that he likes longer showers, anything to give me a little more time. I’m just starting to get the pizza dough together when there is a knock on the door.

  “Everything is gonna be alright. It’s just dinner. One little pizza night and that’s it. Nothing more. We got this bud,” I say with a slight note of panic in my voice as I turn and look at Evan who is happily chewing on some now nondescript food in his highchair. Glancing down to make sure I’m not covered in flour or anything else embarrassing, I run my hand over my hair and go open the door to let in my stranger dinner date.

  As I pull the door open, I’m knocked back a step by the sight before me. Sawyer is standing on my front porch, his hair still slightly damp from his shower and slicked back like he pulled his fingers through it. I have no idea how men do it, but he has cleaned up his beard and left the perfect amount of stubble that is irresistibly sexy and makes my fingers itch to trace his jaw. The dark gray military style button down and dark jeans he’s wearing make me seriously question how he can be just as sexy now as he was shirtless the other day. Hot damn, if my baby maker hadn’t been screaming loud enough already, it’s practically going hoarse with the sight before me.

  He stands there with an air of easy confidence and a devastating smile on his face as he offers me a “heya, little lady.”

  The sound of his voice brings me back to the present and I step back, motioning him in, only able to manage a little squeak of “Hi” as he passes.

  Huge mistake. Goddammit he smells good.

  The heady scents of soap, leather, pine and something distinctly Sawyer envelops me as he brushes past, and it’s all I can do to stifle a moan. No one should smell that good. He bends to take off his boots, and fine, sue me, I can’t help but ogle his perfect ass. It’s sticking out right in front of me, how could I not? While I try to resist slapping the firm denim clad rear before me, Sawyer takes a quick look around the room as he straightens.

  “Damn it smells good in here. Whatcha got planned for us tonight Tess?” he asks.

  “Oh, must be the pizza sauce. Been simmering away for a while now,” I offer.

  He stops and balks, “you’re making it from scratch?”

  “Of course. It’s Sunday. Pizza day. My great-grandmother started the tradition and never missed a day in the 60 some years my grandparents were married. Pizza night is sacred,” I say matter-of-factly as I sneak past him, heading back into the kitchen to resume kneading the dough. Sawyer stands in the opening between the living room and kitchen observing as I work, making the occasional face at Evan and tossing him another teether cracker. When I have the dough resting and finish cleaning my hands, I turn back to him and offer what I hope is a reassuring, easy smile, but with the riot of butterflies and nerves waging war in my belly, I really have no control over what my face is doing.

  “Okay, we have an hour until baking time. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Whatever you have is fine,” he says, finally stepping further into the kitchen. I nod and go to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle for each of us and toss him one. He snatches it out of the air and raises it in a toast before taking a long drink. Evan, who has been happily munching away this whole time smacks his hands against the tray of his highchair with a sudden outburst, clearly ready to receive some more attention.

  “Heya E-Buddy, don’t worry man, haven’t forgotten about you. Just watching your momma do her best Betty Crocker impression. She’s pretty intimidating, you know that?” Sawyer says, pulling out a chair from the table and turning it to sit in front of Evan. “But hey, I got something for ya little man,” he smiles and sets a box I hadn’t noticed before on the tray in front of Evan.

  Evan immediately grabs for the box and tries to shove the entire thing in his mouth, undeterred that it’s twice the size of his head. With a chuckle, Sawyer takes the box and opens it, pulling out a small brightly painted wooden model plane. He holds it out to show Evan as he explains it in an excited tone.

  “It’s a P-51 Mustang, little dude. They were fighters in World War II. The good guys flew them and a little fighter pilot like you needs a sweet little fighter to get the bad guys.”

  I stare at the scene in front of me for a moment, unable to process what I am seeing.

  Dear fuck. I need to make sure I’m not standing in a puddle. I am absolutely certain my ovaries just exploded. Exploded like two little nuclear bombs. How can Mr. Rock-Me-Like-A-Hurricane also be great with kids? It’s against the laws of nature or something.

  Leaning back against the counter, I watch as Sawyer continues to explain the plane to Evan, who is babbling along like he is deep in conversation with him, following the movements of his new toy as Sawyer buzzes it around his head and swoops it in front of him. F
inally, Sawyer sets it down on the tray and Evan instantly has it in his little hands and is shoving it in his face.

  With a laugh, Sawyer tries to pull the plane out of Evan’s mouth and explains “Let’s not deep throat the wing dude. Wouldn’t want you to get a splinter or something.” once he has it free of Evan’s grasp, he looks up at me sheepishly, “Maybe a wooden toy wasn’t the brightest idea for a baby. My bad. I don’t remember the last time I was around little ones, I kind of forgot they shove everything they can get their little paws on into their mouth.”

  “Yeah, anything and everything,” I laugh in response. “We can put it up on one of his shelves for now or something. It’s perfect. Thank you, Sawyer, seriously. You absolutely did not have to do that,” I smile at him as I walk over to take the plane from him.

  “Hey, nothing to it. I saw it in a shop on my trip last week and thought of E-Buddy and that damn mobile. Couldn’t resist,” he shrugs like it really is no big deal.

  I feel the burning sting of tears behind my eyes and before I let them fall, I excuse myself with a mumbled “I’ll be right back,” to run the little plane upstairs to the nursery. I stop and take a deep breath, trying to rein in my frayed emotions.

  Where did this man come from? Seriously, who would have guessed that a big scary biker could be so amazing with kids and so damn thoughtful? It just… isn’t fair. He is supposed to be the big intimidating bad guy across the street, untouchable for good reason. He isn’t supposed to be making me question my life, dammit!

  After sucking in a steadying breath, I head back down the stairs. As I round the last step, I find the kitchen is empty and panic immediately grips my heart. I’m frozen in fear for a moment until I hear Evan’s little giggle coming from the living room and relief floods me.