by Blue, Jayne
“I’m going to the party,” I said. “I have to. I’m in the wedding.”
Shawang.
“Yeah. Don’t even get me started on that.”
“Laney, please. I really do appreciate your loyalty. But you don’t need to take up your sword for me on this one. I’m fine. I’ve moved on. And we all have to live in this town together, remember? What good would it do for me to be petty or passive aggressive about any of this?”
“Tara, I just hate seeing you get hurt. And I know watching Brian and Em get married sucks for you. He was an asshole. He doesn’t get to get off scot-free with you, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Ancient history,” I said, though it didn’t even sound convincing to me.
Brian Windham had been the catch of Lincolnshire. He came from the wealthiest family in town. The Windhams were one of the founders and still owned the local newspaper and one of the television stations.
He was handsome, educated, suave. And he came with a bank account big enough to change my life. I grew up in a trailer park on the wrong side of town with a father who drank too much and a mother who got sick on us and died right before my senior year. But none of that had ever mattered to me. I was who I was. It was Brian who ended up caring, or rather, his mother.
“What you need,” Laney said, stepping around the table, “is to remind Brian of just what he tossed over.”
“Ugh. He didn’t toss me over. How many times do I have to say that?”
Laughter wafted in from the playground. I went over to the window. My heart warmed. Linda had the kids playing a round of four square. With four-year-olds, it was a little like herding cats, but they seemed into it. I zeroed in on Toby Smith.
“Hot damn,” I whispered. “She did it. Look at the smile on that boy’s face.”
Laney was at my shoulder. “Yeah. I was looking pretty hard at the one on his daddy’s.”
A little thrill of heat went through me at the mention of Joker Smith. Before I could even respond to Laney, she slapped her hand against her thigh.
“Hot damn! That’s what you need.”
“What now?”
She was grinning from ear to ear. “That man is fine,” she said. “Tara, his eyes were glued to your swish when you walked away.”
“My swish?”
“Yep. About the most blatant eye-fuck I’ve seen in a while.”
“Grow up, Laney.”
She was nodding. “Right. And your cheeks just went ten shades of red. Admit it. You were checking him out just as hard. Man. That leather. Oooh. That ink. And his hands. Did you see them?”
“Laney …” She knew me too well. Most of the time, that was a blessing. At the moment, I felt ready to throttle her.
“What you need to do,” she said, “is get out there and hook up with someone else. Someone that’ll drive Brian and even Em out of their minds.”
“I told you, I’m not interested in what Brian and Em think of me.” It was a lie. At least partly. It wasn’t that I still had huge feelings for Brian. Well, maybe a little. It was just that I knew in his family’s eyes, if not his, Emmaline Cross was an upgrade. She had the right name. The right pedigree. The right profession. Em was a former Miss Ohio and now ran a non-profit that benefited the homeless. She was a saint. An angel.
Right now, I was up to my elbows in crayons. “Then do it for me,” she said. “I worry about you, Tara. You need to get out there again. It’s been over a year since you and Brian ended. When’s the last time you dated?”
“Laney, don’t worry about me. Really. I’m fine. I like my life.”
I did. The Windhams might not think I was marriage material, but I was proud of what I did. Working with kids was all I ever wanted to do. We were a family here at Tiny Tots. More so than anything I’d ever had at home.
“If I don’t worry about you, who will?” she asked. “Do you mean to tell me you didn’t notice the way that gorgeous hunk of muscle was looking at you?”
I turned away from her. If Laney saw my face just then, I would have been done for. The truth was, I had noticed Joker Smith. A hell of a lot more than I should have.
“Laney,” I said, finding my chill. “I don’t date bikers. And I sure as heck don’t date dads of my students.”
But she was already laughing. “There’s not exactly a rule against it.”
“There should be. Besides, there’s probably a Mrs. Smith.”
She shook her head. “Nope. No ring.”
“There’s no way you could have seen that from where you were sitting.”
“You’d be surprised.” She tapped her brow. “Eagle eyes. Trust me.”
“Just come off it,” I said, stacking the sheets of paper she’d cut for me.
“If you don’t do something about it, I will. I am not letting you go to Em and Brian’s wedding without a plus one. And you have to admit it, a guy like Joker Smith would drive Brian out of his mind. Give his pearl-clutching mother something to stew over.”
“Laney …”
“Admit it! You would love to see the looks on their faces. That guy ... Joker ... that’s what a real man looks like. He looks like he could eat Brian Windham for lunch. Please ... for me ... be nice to him when he comes back.”
“What am I gonna do, jump on the back of his Harley and bite his neck?” As soon as the words flew out of my mouth, the image of doing just that took my breath away.
I had noticed Joker’s hands. He wasn’t wearing a ring. He had that single-dad vibe about him too.
It didn’t change the fact that rule or no rule, throwing myself at the parent of one of the students was a colossally bad idea. In Toby’s case, probably catastrophic.
The boy had a sadness about him that I’d seen before. He was trying to be tough for his dad.
“Fine,” Laney relented at last. “But please, just promise me that you won’t dress like you’re going to work this weekend.”
My jaw dropped. “And what’s wrong with the way I dress for work?”
Laney smiled. She reached for my collar and straightened it. “Nothing,” she said. “We’ll call it mid-century chic. But for the bachelorette party, I want you to look hot and single. I’m going to make it my mission to see that you don’t go home alone.”
“Ugh!” I had a million other things to say, but it was time for snacks. I had a dozen four-year-olds hungry for cheese sticks, crackers, and juice. My little pow-wow with Laney put me two steps behind setting it out.
It earned me a stern look from Miss Linda as she brought the red group in from the playground.
As the kids lined up for their snacks, I saw Toby standing a little off to the side. The smile I’d seen from him outside dissolved back into a scowl.
“How are you doing there, buddy?” I asked. I handed him a small plate with his snack and juice box balanced on top.
He hesitated, then took it from me with chubby fingers.
“Come on, Toby! You can sit here by me!”
Laney was at my side again. Toby’s invite came from Asia Sanderson, our cheeriest blonde four-year-old. Asia picked a new “boyfriend” about every other month. I hid my smile behind my hand as she came over and nearly dragged Toby by his sleeve.
The rest of the day passed mercifully uneventfully. I think Miss Linda’s radar picked up on Laney’s meddling. She found a project for her in the three-year-olds’ classroom that kept her out of my hair until well past three when the first daily pick-up started. Tiny Tots stayed open until seven o’clock most evenings to accommodate working parents.
Toby Smith finally had a reprieve from Asia Sanderson when Asia’s grandmother came to pick her up at three thirty.
Toby got quiet again and I didn’t like the sad expression that came into his eyes as Asia left. I sat down next to him on the colored alphabet mats.
“So,” I said. “How’d you like it today?”
Toby shrugged. “Mrs. Loomis could come pick me up too. She’s just getting a new hip.”
“Ah,�
� I said. “I’ll bet she’s going to feel so much better after that.”
“That’s what my dad says.”
“Well, he’s right. Sounds like a smart man.”
Toby picked at his shoelace. It had come undone and he fumbled with trying to retie it.
“You need some help with that?” I asked.
“Mrs. Loomis was teaching me,” he said. “But she and my dad aren’t any good at it.”
“At tying their own shoes or teaching it?”
Toby gave me a sideways glance that told me for a four-year-old, he had a pretty finely tuned bullshit meter already.
“They’re both righties,” he said. “I’m a lefty.” He held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers.
“Ah. Well, it just so happens I’m a lefty too.” I motioned to Toby. Without me even asking, he slid onto my lap and stuck his foot out.
He had a thick head of bushy brown hair that tickled my nose as I reached over him and showed him how to loop his laces. I did it twice.
“Around the horn and through the hole,” he repeated.
“Pretty much,” I said. “You wanna give it a try?”
He took the ends of his laces from me in his chubby hands. I leaned sideways so I could see his face. Toby stuck his tongue out while he concentrated.
The first two attempts resulted in gnarled knots. But he kept at it. With just one more pointer from me, Toby made himself a credible, if not a little loose bow.
“Hot damn!” he shouted, pleased with himself.
“Toby!”
A stern, male voice jolted Toby upright. I hid my giggle behind my hand.
“That’s my dad,” he said. “I gotta go.”
Joker Smith was smiling too. He leaned in the doorway, filling it with his broad shoulders. He still wore his leather biker vest. He crossed one booted foot over the other, waiting for Toby to finish tying his other lace. He did that one almost perfectly.
“He’s a quick learner,” I said.
Toby thrust his sneakered feet out so his father could get a better look at his handiwork.
“Miss Tara’s a lefty, like me,” he said.
“How about that?” Joker said. The man had the most full, luscious lips. I sucked in a breath, surprised at myself for staring so hard.
Toby climbed out of my lap and ran to his father’s side, testing out the integrity of his laces.
“Wait’ll Mrs. Loomis sees,” Joker said.
Then Toby surprised us both. He ran to me, throwing his arms out wide. He barreled into me in a bear hug. I caught him just in time.
“Ooof!” I said.
“Easy, chief,” Joker said. “You don’t wanna break Miss Tara in half on your first day.”
“She’s stronger than she looks,” Laney said. She came into the room and gave me a conspiratorial wink.
Oh brother. I tousled Toby’s hair and sent him back to his dad.
“Will you be dropping off this little guy tomorrow, same time?” Laney asked.
Joker smiled. Even when he wasn’t, I noticed the man had a curve to those sinful lips that made him seem like he was continually smirking. God help me, it was sexy as hell.
“That’s the plan,” Joker said.
“Terrific,” Laney said brightly. “Miss Tara can’t wait to see you again.”
I stared daggers at her. Joker just kept on smirking.
Toby grabbed his backpack and took his father’s hand.
“Thanks again,” Joker said to me. “I mean it. Sounds like Toby had a great day, thanks to you.”
“Er ... he’s a great kid.”
Toby was already singing as he pulled his father toward the door.
“See you tomorrow!” Laney called out.
As Joker turned, I got a look at his backside. Laney did too. She let out a low whistle. I was close enough now to give her a light punch in the shoulder.
“Stop it! Can you at least try to be professional?” I whispered.
But I must have said it too loud or Joker Smith had bionic ears. He looked back at me over his shoulder and shot me a wink that melted my insides all the way down to my toes.
Chapter Three
Joker
When Colt called a meeting at two o’clock on a Sunday, we all knew something bad was about to happen.
My prez had a weary look on his face as he took his seat at the head of the table. He’d taken the gavel nearly seven years ago now. In those seven years, the Great Wolves, Ohio Chapter, had seen phenomenal changes. He helped cut out the worst president we ever had and dragged us out of the one percenter shit we had stifled under. As a result, Lincolnshire itself had turned a corner. Businesses were coming in. Housing prices were up. The docks and most of the downtown area were new, vibrant, exciting.
But it was up to us to keep it that way. As a port city on the banks of the Maumee River leading into Lake Erie, we were a prime target for darker elements wanting to get a foothold. Sometimes our tactics to keep those elements out were dark enough on their own.
Kellan, our V.P., took his place at Colt’s right hand. The only man missing from top leadership was Brax. Our sergeant-at-arms was working on expanding one of the G.W.M.C.’s most lucrative, legit businesses, our private security firm. He was setting shit up near Chicago.
I sat next to Torch. He was our newest patched-in member. He’d been a prospect out of the Florida chapter a few years back.
“You know what this is about?” Torch whispered.
“Zip it and we’ll find out,” I said.
Colt sat with his hands folded on the table, his expression grim.
“I’ll cut right to it,” he said. “I just got word from a contact within the Lincolnshire P.D. The mayor is about to appoint a new police chief.”
Colt had a sordid history with the Lincolnshire P.D. His twin brother, Jase, had made it all the way to lieutenant. But he’d looked the other way one too many times where the club was concerned and it finally caught up with him. Right around the time Colt got voted in, Jase had been forced out. Word was, he’d taken a major undercover gig out of state. I knew it weighed on Colt.
Kellan scratched his chin. No doubt Colt had already filled him in on what he’d heard before they walked in together. Now it was our turn to hear the bad news.
“Tim Davis,” Colt said.
The name sounded familiar but it took me a beat to remember why. E.J. sat two seats down from me. His eyes popped.
“Davis?” he asked. “You mean that piece of shit who tried to hurt Nicole?”
Nicole was Brax’s wife now. A while back, one of our rival clubs had tried to move heroin through Lincolnshire using her brother. Now I remembered why Davis’s name rang a bell. He’d been a beat cop at the time. On the take with the Devil’s Hawks, he’d tried to deliver her to them as a way to keep our club and her brother in line. Before that, they’d messed with Kellan’s wife, Mallory. The Hawks had been crossing lines with us for the better part of the decade until we burned their house to the literal ground. I knew Colt feared it would only be a matter of time before they started something up again.
“You gotta be kidding me,” I said. “Davis went to ground after that whole business with the Hawks. What’s it been? Five years? Six?”
“Something like that,” Colt said. “Apparently he didn’t go down deep enough.”
Colt had a laptop on the table. He fired it up and turned the thing so we all could see it.
Sure enough, he was showing a live press conference from the mayor’s office. Thirty seconds into it, the mayor brought Tim Davis to the podium and introduced him as his top cop pick.
“Sheeit,” Torch said. “Where the hell’s he been all this time?”
“Who’s he been with?” I asked. “You really think the Hawks are dumb enough to try stirring shit up with us again? Here? I thought they’d moved a lot of their operation out of Detroit into Canada.”
“I don’t know,” Colt said. “That’s the God’s honest truth. This hit me unawares, just li
ke you guys. Not one of my contacts in the department or the mayor’s office had any inkling.”
“The point is,” Kellan said. “It’s time to keep our ears open and our shit tight. This could all be some coincidence.”
“Except you know it’s not,” I said. “No way.”
“So what do we do about it?” E.J. asked.
“For now, nothing,” Colt said. “We watch and wait. And like Kellan said, we keep an eye and an ear out. You make sure all your deliveries for the Den are above board. Anything that could fuck us up ... the health inspector, the gaming commission, anything. Make sure all your paperwork’s pristine. Your payments are up to date. If there’s anything coming up that could cause us grief with any government office, state, local, federal, I don’t care. Look for it. Bring it to the table. And the same goes for your personal shit right now. I don’t want to hear about any of you getting so much as a speeding ticket.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Tate said at the other end of the table.
“Until we get a handle on what might be coming down on us,” Colt said, “that’s the way it has to be. We’ve been through this before. More than once. It’s business as usual, but we stay extra sharp. That’s all. Any questions?”
Oh, I had a million. The Wolf Den, our bar and clubhouse, was making us a mint these days. We owned a gym in town that sponsored some up-and-coming MMA fighters. They were a prime target for bullshit from other clubs. But Colt was right. If the new police chief wanted to make trouble for us, there were a dozen different ways.
“How are you gonna handle things with Davis?” I asked.
Colt let out a sigh. “That’s the kicker. I’ve already called his office and asked for a sit-down.”
“You think that’ll help?” Kellan asked.
Colt shrugged. “I don’t think it’ll hurt. I need to get a read on the man. I need to look him in the eye and see what he’s about. See if we’re on the same page about Lincolnshire.”
There were groans around the table. Colt wasn’t saying it, but we all knew how this worked. If the new chief wanted to bust balls, he could. To a point. But we all knew the surest way to make sure he didn’t take things too far was to make him happy. It would be up to our prez to see if Tim Davis could be bought. I wasn’t sure what to wish for. If we could handle Davis the old-fashioned way, it meant every man at this table would take a hit to the bank account. Hard.