by Blue, Jayne
“Yeah. Shel, one of my waitresses. She saw her pouring it. That kind of shit could mess with our liquor license. We had some extra eyes in the bar last night.”
“Great,” she said. “Just great.”
“Lovely group of friends you have,” I said.
Tara shook her head. “Only three of them would I actually consider friends. The rest? They just belong to the bride. Or to Brian ... er ... the groom.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. The name struck me and I put two and two together. “Wait a minute. Your ex. Brian. He’s the groom?”
She gave me a sheepish grin. Damn. Even with tragic bedhead and morning breath, I found her sexy as hell.
“Yeah,” she said. “I was friends with Em, er ... the bride before they started dating.”
I whistled. “Man, you really are a hot mess. Does she know he’s still eye-fucking you?”
“Look, I appreciate that you ... took care of me? I guess? Or at least that you didn’t do anything, er ... ungentlemanly, but you’re right. My life is a hot mess. But it’s my hot mess.”
I smiled at her. “Well, Miss Tara, you just get more and more interesting to me. Let me take you home.”
“Do you have ... I don’t suppose ... maybe a toothbrush?”
I laughed. “In the bathroom. There’s some travel-sized shit in there. Like I said, we keep these rooms ready for members who need to crash sometimes.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “Exactly what else do you use them for?”
I didn’t answer. There was no way to do it that wouldn’t rev my engine even more, never mind her morning breath.
“Come downstairs when you’re done,” I said. “The club’s pretty much empty right now. No walk of shame.”
I was joking, but she shot me a hard look. I had the urge to kiss the scowl right off her face. But I made good on my promise and left her alone.
I walked downstairs. Only Torch was there. He waited for me behind the bar with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Still hot for teacher?” he said.
“Shut the fuck up,” I whispered, holding a finger to my lips.
I slid onto a stool. “We come out clean last night?” I said. I slept in the room right beside Tara, watching over her. I didn’t have the heart to tell her how badly she snored.
“Think so,” Torch said. “Those dippy bachelorettes didn’t do us any favors. But nothing the cops could cite us for. Kellan made sure they all got safely into that limo and off the premises. Well, at least most of them. Man, never seen that many rich, drunk chicks in one place. What the hell did you say Shel found in that flask?”
“I didn’t ask,” I said. “Not my problem once they were off Wolf property. You seen Kellan or Colt this morning?”
“Not yet,” he said. “But I know Colt’s hot to get in the new chief’s face. Last night he crossed a line. Those undercovers were here on his say-so. No question.”
“Man,” I said. “I was really hoping we were all just worrying for nothing.”
“Me too,” Torch said. He was going to say more but stopped. Tara appeared at the top of the stairs. She’d brushed her hair and smoothed her skirt. She looked hot as hell in it. The tank top I gave her might have been one size too small. The G.W.M.C. logo stretched across her breasts. My club. My brand. My jeans got a little tighter as she made her way downstairs.
“Hey,” she said, waving at Torch. I knew what he thought. I knew what I wanted. I threw a towel at him. Torch got the hint and made himself scarce.
“I can’t believe they all just left me here,” she said, looking around at the empty bar.
“Well, your phone was blowing up a little while ago,” I said. “Your stuff’s here on the bar. One of the hostesses found it in the bathroom.”
Tara picked up her purse and pawed through it. “Seven missed calls,” she said. “Still, I think I might murder Laney for taking off without so much as a glance back wondering where I was.”
“Laney the one that works with you at Tiny Tots?” I said.
“Yes.”
“She did more than glance back. She came down to the pool room. You told her to buzz off. Insisted you were fine. You said some other stuff to her but you whispered it. None of my business but whatever it was got her to take off.”
Tara pressed her hand to her forehead. “God. She’s going to think ... just what I thought.”
“Come on,” I said. “I’m getting the impression you care too much what people think. Let me get you home.”
“I can call a cab,” she said.
“Nope. Not having it. You’re in my club. On my watch. I want to make sure you make it home safe. Come on.”
I reached behind the bar and grabbed one of the helmets Amy kept back there. Tara’s eyes went wide as she realized what I had in mind. But she put it on and followed me outside.
“Bright light!” she said.
“You sure you don’t wanna stick around?” I asked. “I’ve got a pretty good cure for hangovers.”
“No,” she said. “I mean, thanks. But I’ve been here long enough.”
I walked her over to my Harley. “You ever ride before?” I asked.
“Um ... no.”
“Okay. Just climb on. Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on. I’ll take it slow.”
She let out a little gasp then mounted the bike. Her skirt rode up and I could see the hint of her underwear.
Lord.
I got on. Tara squeezed her thighs against me. A shudder went through me. She threaded her arms around my waist and I kicked the bike to life. The engine roared and rumbled, sending a vibration up my spine. She felt it. She tightened her grip.
I peeled out of the parking lot. Tara let out a squeal as I hit the open road.
This was heaven to me. The girl was a natural. I felt her shift her weight as I took the curves. I felt every inch of her even through my leather.
I wanted her. Plain and simple. It roared through me with the same ferocity as the Harley’s engine. But she wasn’t like any of the girls I’d been with before. Tara was sweeter. Untouchable, in a way. And she mattered to Toby. I knew this was probably a mistake, but now that I had a little taste, I wanted a whole lot more.
Tara directed me to her place off Emerson. She lived in a little brick ranch on a quiet street with weeping willows framing the sidewalks.
I parked and helped her dismount. Her skirt stayed hiked up a little in the back. She smoothed it down and I walked her to her door.
“You sure you’re feeling okay?” I asked.
She was breathless, flushed, smiling. I hadn’t realized how much she’d enjoyed the ride.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll be okay. And I mean it. Really. Thank you.”
It was now or never. I knew at that moment I could walk away. It would be easier. Safer. But as she trained those big brown eyes on me, I knew I had to double down.
“I want to see you again,” I said.
Her lips quivered. “Joker ... I …”
I leaned against the door with my arm above her head. We were close enough that I felt her breath against my cheek.
“Soon,” I said. Then I went in for a kiss. God, she was sweet. She leaned into me with a little sigh. It was as if her body was tuned in to mine. Just the slightest touch and I had her shivering. Goosebumps covered her arms.
I pulled away, leaving her panting. “Joker …”
“See you around, Miss Tara,” I said.
I left her staring after me as I turned and walked away.
Chapter Eight
Tara
Monday morning, Laney cornered me in the coatroom.
“So,” she said. “You haven’t answered a single one of my calls or texts. What gives?”
I was mad at her. Furious, actually. “What gives?” I whispered. The majority of the kids wouldn’t get dropped off for almost an hour. We needed to do some rearranging of the four-year-olds’ room to make way for a new insect-learning center Miss Linda had planned.
/> “What gives?” I said again. “You took off on me.”
Laney had her hands on her hips. “Tara, I didn’t take off. You told me to leave. You were hot and heavy with Joker.”
“Ugh. I don’t remember.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
“Completely.” I looked over my shoulder to make sure Linda and the other aides were well out of earshot.
“Maggie Rose spiked my drink, I think,” I said. “Joker said one of the waitresses saw her with a flask. There were cops in the bar.”
“Damn,” she said. “You know, I felt like those fruity drinks were hitting me a little harder than they should have. Maggie’s an idiot.”
I turned my back on her and started stacking books in the corner. She put a hand on my shoulder.
“Tara, nice dodge. So what the hell happened with Joker?”
I straightened. “Nothing. I slept it off. He took me home.”
She sighed and looked toward the ceiling. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“Well,” she said. “Whatever happened, you succeeded in shutting up Em’s idiot bridal party.”
That wasn’t what I was afraid of. I didn’t want to tell Laney what I did remember about that night. I knew most of the girls were talking about me behind my back. The bathroom conversation I overhead would have been the least of it.
“And Brian,” she said. “He was fuming. Em tried to play it off but whatever Joker said to him ... Brian was scared.”
“Good,” I muttered. I still hadn’t told Laney about Brian’s pseudo-proposition the other day. I didn’t trust that she could keep her mouth shut about it.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Tara, I’m really sorry. I had no idea you were that drunk the other night. I never would have left. You seemed so convincing.”
“Apparently it’s a hidden talent,” I said. I wanted to stay mad at her. I should have. But I blamed myself just as much. I knew when I got out of that limo I was headed for trouble.
Trouble.
That’s what Joker was. Except it felt so good when he kissed me. The truth was, I hadn’t really wanted to leave the club that morning. As crazy as the night ended up, he made me feel safe in a way. Like some tough, rugged biker guardian angel.
It was new to me. Unfamiliar. Completely unexpected.
And he said he wanted to see me again. I hugged my arms around my chest. My thighs still quivered at the memory of what it felt like to ride with him on his Harley. If my father knew I’d gotten on the back of a motorcycle, he’d kill me.
And there was one other person I wanted to keep a secret from.
“It’s okay,” I said to Laney. “I mean ... don’t ever leave me like that again. And I promise never to do it to you.”
She cocked her head. “Right. That’s the first time you’ve gone out to a bar with me in like 2000 and forever. Still, I get your point. And you have my word.”
She stuck out her hand to me to shake it. I knew she had more to say, but the sound of a hundred three- and four-year-olds clomping through the hallway drew us away.
I stacked the last of the books, dusted off my pant legs and headed to the doorway to greet my kids. My blood heated a bit as I scanned the hallway looking for Joker. Ever since the first day, he didn’t usually walk Toby inside, preferring to use the drop-off line.
I saw Toby’s tousled hair, a wild cowlick bouncing near his face as he tumbled in with the rest of the kids. He made me smile. Toby was a good kid. Smart. He had a hard, protective shell around him, but in the few weeks since I first met him, he was really coming out of it. He’d paired off with Nolan Cleary and Lance Hall, two of my most rambunctious kids. But they both seemed to look up to Toby. They were impressed with who his father was. Toby was the natural leader among them.
The three boys put their backpacks in their cubbies and found their places on the mat.
Through the open window, I saw Joker, just as he made the turn into the circle and hit the road. Warmth spread through my core. His kiss lingered on my lips.
“Miss Tara!” Little Lexi Cohen tugged on my sleeve. Smiling down at her, I handed her the bathroom pass. That kiddo was nothing if not regular.
I pushed thoughts of Joker’s lips and strong hands out of my mind and clapped my hands together. “Who’s ready to learn about bugs?”
My class answered with shrieks and applause.
* * *
I didn’t see Joker at the end of the day either. He sent a friend to pick him up. Mrs. Reddick, Toby called her. She was Colt Reddick’s wife, a school teacher. She was the only other person on Joker’s contact list with approval to get Toby.
I watched as Laney walked him to her car. He seemed excited to see her, running toward the backseat door. She had two other kids in the car and Toby was soon giggling with them as he climbed into his booster seat, and Mrs. Reddick turned around to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
She turned her head. Her smile faltered just a little as she saw me standing on the steps waving. It wasn’t that she seemed upset or anything, more that she took a beat to pay attention.
What had Joker told her about me? God. Had his interest in me reached the level of him telling other men from the club? I felt my pulse skip. Did I want him too? Ever since that man swaggered into my life, I hadn’t been able to think straight.
“You wanna grab a bite?” Laney came to my shoulder. She had her hand raised, waving to the kids as each of them found their parents in the drop-off line. Miss Linda stood in the crosswalk directing traffic with a stern look and a thunderous shout.
“I think I just wanna head home,” I said. “Still recovering from the weekend.”
“Hmm,” Laney said. “I gotta say, I kinda wish you’d have just boned that guy. Get it out of your system at least.”
“Stop,” I said.
“No, I’m serious. You’ve been a nut case with this wedding coming up. And it’s clear you’re into the guy and he’s into you. You should go for it. Live a little. Take a walk on the wild side.”
“Bye, Laney,” I said, smiling over my shoulder as I stepped off the curb and walked toward my loaner car. That was another problem in my life. The pick-up was toast. My father was haggling with the repair shop and it wasn’t going well.
When I pulled into my driveway, my dad’s car was there. Monday nights, he usually invited himself over for dinner. The good news was, he always brought pizza from Papa Luigi’s, our favorite Lincolnshire hole-in-the-wall.
As I walked into the living room and tossed my tote bag and purse on the couch, Dad was waiting for me at the kitchen table. He had ordered two large pies. Pepperoni and bacon for me, steak and mushroom for him. He was halfway through his and eyeing mine.
I reached over him, grabbed a slice. He tried to dodge me and snapped his jaws like a dog.
Laughing, I took a seat opposite him. This was a new thing with us. It was me trying. I’d never had much of a relationship with my father growing up. He was never home. I was ten years old before my mother finally told me what he really did for a living. My father was a special agent with the FBI, Detroit Field Office. Retired now, he’d spent huge chunks of time away from us. She always made excuses. His work was important. Dangerous. He looked the way he did, scruffy, unkempt, because he worked undercover. When he was home, he treated her like crap. Staring at a television with a bottle in his hand. Every year, he promised her he would retire. Every year, he put it off. Then she got sick.
“You staying tonight?” I asked. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Like my mother, I tried to ignore it.
“Maybe,” he said. “We could pick up a movie.”
“Hmmm.” I took a big bite of pizza; the cheese dripped from the end. “People don’t pick up movies anymore, Dad. We stream them.”
“Whatever,” he said.
“I’m worried about you,” I said. “You don’t look good.”
My father had only recently moved to Lincolnshire to b
e near me. I hadn’t entirely worked out how I felt about it. I was still so guarded where he was concerned. But I was trying.
“Yeah,” he said. “Speaking of worry. When were you going to tell me you’ve been seeing Joker Smith?”
I nearly choked on the cheese. I set my pizza down and grabbed a napkin.
“I’m not,” I said. I mean, it was sort of true. “And how did you know that?”
“Save it. I have eyes everywhere. You of all people should know that. You were with him at the Wolf Den the other night. I have it on good authority that you spent the night. And I know he brought you back here on his motorcycle.”
“Dad, I’m a grown woman. I appreciate your concern but I don’t answer to you on this subject. Any more than you answer to me.”
“Stop,” he said, putting a hand up. “This is different. I know things you don’t about that club.”
I reached over and grabbed a fresh slice of pizza. “Like what?”
He scowled at me. “Tara, my point is, you don’t want to get mixed up with someone who wears a Great Wolves patch.”
“Why not?” I asked, my mouth stuffed with pizza. “I got mixed up with the most eligible bachelor in probably the whole state. You saw how that turned out.”
Dad slammed a fist to the table. “Dammit, Tara. You need to listen to me. Stay away from that club.”
“I was at that club because Emmaline Cross booked her bachelorette party there. You think that would have happened without Victoria Windham’s stamp of approval?”
“I don’t give two shits about the Windhams. I care about you. And I’m telling you, where those bikers are, trouble seems to follow. I don’t want you caught up in the middle of it.”
“Are they doing something illegal?” I asked. He sputtered. It meant I was winning this particular argument.
“No,” I continued. “They run a bar in town. Part of a chain of bars all across the country. They run the gym. I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen a lot of young boys and girls who might have gotten into trouble over the years making something of themselves as a direct result of the outreach of the Great Wolves M.C. It’s not the same club as thirty years ago. Lincolnshire is a better town because of the club. Even you can’t deny that.”