by Cathryn Cade
She stiffened, and glared at him over her shoulder. "Well, I thought we weren't gonna do that thing again," she mimicked. "The one where you let other women crawl all over you, like you're still single."
"I wasn't letting Coral crawl all over me," he shot back. "I invited her to stay here--for reasons I'll be happy to explain if you'll get that stick outta your ass--and she was grateful. She threw her arms around me and kissed me. I did not kiss her back, and wouldn't even if I wasn't with you, 'cause she's with one of my brothers."
"Whatever. You invited her here, without even asking how I would feel about it. She is one of the rudest, cattiest bitches I've ever had the misfortune to meet, not to mention being one of your ex-bimbos! And you were going to let her stay in my house. And that is not okay."
Then she climbed into bed, her back to him, and pulled the covers up around her ears.
And with that, he was through trying. He turned on his heel, walked out of their bedroom and stomped back downstairs, where he fixed himself another drink and took it into the TV room. He fell asleep to a third episode of Biker Garage.
* * *
The next morning, Lindi woke only when her phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand. It was Carla, her full-time waitress, wondering where Lindi was, as it was time to open the BeeHive for breakfast.
Lindi flew out of bed, washed up hastily at the bathroom sink, dressed in her white long-sleeved tee, black yoga pants and tennies, bundled her hair up in a messy bun, slapped on some mascara and blush, and hurried downstairs to grab her coat and gloves from the closet.
"Lin?" Jack called from the TV room, his voice gravelled with sleep.
"Can't talk now," she called, heading for the garage. "I'm late!" And felt a little pinch of relief at being able to say so. She wasn't ready to forgive and forget.
Thank God it hadn't snowed overnight. Their driveway wound down across the hill and cut back to join the paved road down to the lake shore highway. Lindi drove as quickly as was safe, and in moments, she had parked in the back of the BeeHive's lot, and was jogging to the back door, where Carla, a stocky, dark-haired woman waited for her, thumbing her phone.
"You okay?" Carla asked, eying Lindi. "No offense, but you look like sh--uh, you're kinda pale, and you got those dark shadows under your eyes."
"I'll be fine," Lindi assured her. And wouldn't it be great if she could convince herself? All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed, pull the covers over her head, and just... stay there. Hide out from her life, until Jack came and apologized on bended knee, and swore that he would never again put another woman before her.
She did not know what his explanation was for bringing that redheaded slut into their home, but it wasn't good enough.
And she kept repeating this to herself as her customers came and went, and the morning sun disappeared behind dark, snow-laden clouds over the lake.
Unfortunately, her self-justification for her refusal to listen to Jack wore off as her misery deepened. She was pregnant, and she should have spent the night snuggled up with Jack, sharing the joy of the new life they'd created. Instead they were fighting, and it was as much her fault as his.
By mid-morning, she was ready to burst into tears if a customer so much as frowned at her. Luckily, none of them did, because the BeeHive's food and service was that good.
Remi stopped in at eleven, and straddled one of the stools at the counter. He said hello to Carla and looked with approval at the customers scarfing down pancakes, eggs and hash browns.
"Hi," Lindi said, giving her former cook the big smile she'd given all her customers that morning. "What'll you have?"
Her smile must have looked as false as it felt. Remi patted the counter beside his seat. "You sitting down while I take over for a little bit. That would be good."
Lindi gave him a look of gratitude, but shook her head. "I'm fine. Three of the four booths have already eaten. Two of these guys at the counter just stopped in for coffee and a chat, the other one's waiting for his friend. You want coffee?" She'd drunk two cups of decaf with cream herself. It wasn't the same, but she'd live without caffeine for the next eight months.
As she was filling Remi's cup, Kit came in, bundled in her usual mix of bright colors, with cowgirl boots with roses embroidered up the high sides. She plunked onto the stool next to Remi.
"That Coral is as toxic as a pit of nuclear slugs," she announced. "And I'm bad for leaving Keys to deal with her bitch-ass self this morning, but I had to get out of there before I snatched her bald. I need a huge, high-calorie breakfast, stat. And lots of coffee."
Lindi filled her cup and Remi's. "You mean, toxic as a pit of nuclear sludge, and I agree. You want pancakes or cinnamon rolls?" She already knew her friend like bacon but not sausage, and her eggs over medium.
"Cinnamon roll for me," Kit said. "What did Jack say when you told him?"
Lindi looked away. "We're not exactly speaking."
"Oh shit," her friend breathed. "So you didn't get a chance to wear the, uh, you know?"
Remi slid off his stool. "I'm gonna take over the grill. So you two can stop speaking in code."
Kit gave him a soft smile as he walked around the end of the counter toward the kitchen. "Thanks, Remington."
He gave her a gleaming look that made tears well up in Lindi's eyes. They were so stinking cute together, and with Keys they made the perfect trio.
"I was a bitch too," she told Kit. "I was so mad, I didn't let Jack explain what the hell he was thinking when he let that twat into our house."
Kit gave her a look of pure sympathy. "Oh, honey, any old lady worth her 'property of ' patch would've done the same. I mean, I love Jack and I know he'd never cheat on you, especially with that skank, but what the hell was he thinking?"
Lindi sniffled. "I don't know. And now he's mad and doesn't want to even tell me."
Her friend waggled her auburn brows at her, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Well, don't stand there and pretend you don't know how to fix that."
Lindi smiled crookedly. "I do. But it will have to wait, because even after I get done here, Jack has the final inspection at four o'clock. So he won't be home till six, I bet."
And since it was a tossup whether her head or her heart ached worse, it was gonna be a long, long day.
* * *
Jack had slept in a lot worse places over the years than his cushy leather recliner. But he wasn't twenty-something anymore, either. Thus, when he woke, it took him a moment to remember why he was in the TV room instead of their bed. Also, the back of his shoulder ached from being slammed into the doorframe'
Hearing light footsteps on the stairs from the second floor, he scrubbed a hand over his face—carefully, because of his black eye—and sat up. "Lindi?" he croaked, his voice cracked with sleep. "That you?" He needed a shower, a couple painkillers and a quart of coffee. But first, he needed to get right with his woman.
Ready for her to appear in the doorway, or at least in the kitchen, he was taken aback when she merely called, "I'm late! Talk to you later."
The door into the garage slammed behind her, and the SUV started up and backed out. Leaving him alone in their empty house.
"Okay, then," he muttered. He pushed himself up out of the chair and went into the kitchen to start the coffee.
Finally awake after two cups of strong coffee, Jack traipsed upstairs.
Lindi had bolted out without making the bed or cleaning up after herself in the bathroom, both unusual. She loved their new house, and she'd nested here like a prairie grouse, making the place theirs with personal touches like towels, cushions, candles, even plants in unexpected places like the fern hanging by their big, glassed-in shower stall.
He sighed heavily, reaching to wipe up a drop of her scented lotion from the counter-top. It was cool and silky on his fingertip, and her scent wafted up to him, sweet and fresh. Fuck, he missed her like she was gone. Being at odds with her this way brought it home how much he depended on her being there at his side, emotionally even when she was abs
ent in body.
That was what having an old lady meant. Now he got why other men would work so hard to hang onto their women, why they cossetted them and pandered to their whims. Not that Lindi demanded any of that. She was touchingly grateful for any gift, large or small.
Bringing Coral here without checking with Lindi first had been a fuck-up of colossal proportions, he got that now. Funny how it had seemed to logical on the fly. He'd set Coral up in their spare room, Lindi would help him keep the woman quiet and contained until Crack rolled into town, they'd loose her to his care, and get back to their own lives.
Instead, he'd hurt and angered Lindi. Hell, even Keys had looked at him like he was nuts, and his best friend had written the book on rolling with the flow.
Well, he needed to get showered and dressed. He probably stank like a bar-room floor early Sunday morning.
On his way to his big walk-in closet, a patch of color caught his eye. He stopped, then walked into Lindi's closet. Bending, he picked up the garments that had fallen from her shopping bag. There were two. One was gorgeous, a little nightie of a pale, blush pink nearly the color of Lindi's skin, and nearly as soft. Fuck, he wanted to see her in this.
The other garment was pale blue. Smiling to himself, he turned it over in his big hand, expecting to see a pair of panties or a cami.
Jack froze, staring at the scrap of knit, thin and soft. It was one of those tiny one-piece things they put on newborns, a tee-shirt that extended to snaps and leg-holes. And on the front were the words 'Daddy's Boy'.
As he stood there, his mind buzzing and snapping like a bug zapper on a hot summer night, something else fell out of the bag. Peering at the carpet between his sock-clad feet, Jack saw a small white tube. He bent, picked it up, and then had to sit down suddenly on the ottoman as all the blood in his body left his head. It was a used pregnancy test stick.
Pregnant. His woman was pregnant.
Jesus, no wonder Lindi was so upset. She hadn't acted any different yesterday, or this morning, so she must've just found out today. Then, she'd been ready to do a private show-and-tell with him. And what had he done? Stomped all over her plans and her feelings in his size twelve boots.
He smoothed the tiny blue garment over his knee, marveling at the daintiness of it, and then slowly tipped back his head and chuckled, deep and strong.
Fuck. Him. He was gonna be a daddy. He could not wait. And while he was waiting, he got to watch his pretty woman grown round and ripe, carrying his baby in her belly. Boy or girl, he could care less, as long as it was healthy and strong.
He was gonna do better than fix his mistake. He was gonna show her that he could be the husband she wanted, and the father their babies needed. Because he prayed this would not be the only one.
With the ease of long habit, he flipped his phone from his pocket and hit Keys' number. His friend answered, "Jack, you better be on your way to get this bitch off my hands, brother, or you will owe me a fuckin' years worth of dinners at your club. She is on my last nerve."
"Sorry, man," Jack said. "I really am. But I just figured out what's goin' on with Lindi. And I gotta go shoppin'."
There was a short silence, during which Jack rose and strode into the bathroom. Shower, clean clothes, then he had shit to do.
"Must be somethin' wrong with my phone service," Keys said. "Could swear my brother just told me he was blowin' me off to go shopping. What, you grow a pussy overnight, Moran?"
Jack chuckled.
"Nah, still got my equipment intact. But if I wanna use it anytime soon, I got some shit to shovel. And I could use Kit's help. Hell, maybe I'll call Sara too."
"What the hell are you gonna do, get a fashion makeover?"
"I," Jack informed him smugly, "Am gonna put up a Christmas tree for my old lady. I've been puttin' her off for two weeks, 'cause I've been so damn busy. But I need to make a statement, a big one. I figure this will be a start."
Keys sighed. "All right. You can borrow my woman for a few hours. Just watch out, or you'll have purple and hot pink shit on your tree. Red's taste is, ah, colorful."
Jack chuckled. "No worries, I don't need her to shop, I need her to take Lindi somewhere for the afternoon. Maybe over to Spokane, meet up with Sara. I'll get the tree, get some lights and a couple boxes of ornaments an' shit, and put it up."
"Uh-huh. Can't wait to see that."
"Hey, how hard can it be? I watched people do it before."
Keys was laughing as he ended the call. Well fuck him, Jack had this.
Several hours later, however, Jack knew with a certainty born of disaster that he did not.
As requested, Kit had swept in and driven Lindi off with her to Spokane for the afternoon. They were meeting Sara somewhere to shop and whatever else they came up with. Jack was certain their schedule would include lots of time to talk trash about him. But his shoulders were broad. He could take it.
He just hoped Lindi's afternoon was going better than his. He stood in their living room, staring at his pitiful attempt at tree decor. The tree itself was fine. It was a thick, fragrant Scotch pine, and he'd gotten it set straight and solid in a brand-new stand. The reservoir in the base of the stand was full of water, so the tree would stay fresh until after Christmas.
He'd set the tree up before their big, south-facing picture windows, so the lights would shine for Lindi to see as she drove up the hill to the house.
Location, set-up, all fine. But the decorating part... he just did not get. He'd loaded up a couple of shopping baskets from FG Meyer's holiday display, choosing ornaments he thought Lindi would like. He had glass Santas and snowflakes, deer and bears. He had balls and stars and even some pine cones with bows and glittery shit on them.
But the ornaments were not only hard to fasten on the thick boughs of the tree, they didn't hang gracefully the way he thought they should. Instead they sort of draped weirdly on the outside of the tree. Also, after covering the front of the tree with them, he realized he had none to place on the back. Shit, he hadn't bought enough.
Shaking this off, he moved on to the strings of lights. On the advice of a middle-aged woman who'd smiled at him and his cart-load of ornaments, he'd bought two strings of multi-colored LED lights that could twinkle on and off, or just shine steadily.
The trouble was, when he tried to drape the lights around the tree, he knocked ornaments off or got tangled up in them. He broke two ornaments, and nearly tripped over the cord, which curled spontaneously around his lower legs.
"Get off me, you mother-fucker," he muttered, shaking his leg to free himself. "I'll stomp you like a rattle-snake."
Finally, though, he gave up and just left the excess lights draped down the back of the tree. Damn, it was nearly three o'clock, and he still had his mess to clean up. Packaging and tags were strewn across their new carpet.
Of course, that was when he heard the low growl of a big Harley outside. He'd barely gotten free of the light cord when someone pounded on the front door.
Jack looked through the peephole in the sturdy door to see a lean, rawboned biker scowling around him like he was in a slum instead of the front porch of a big, new house in the woods.
He pulled open the front door, and smiled with relief, holding out his hand to shake. "Crack. Brother, you made it."
Crack's scowl deepened, his weathered face reddening ominously. "Where the fuck is my old lady?" he demanded.
So saying, he hauled off and punched Jack square in the face. Pain rocketed through Jack's temple.
Jack reeled back, the back of his shoulder slamming against the door-frame. But as Crack advanced, Jack set his feet, made two fists and returned the favor, punching Crack hard in the face and then the gut.
The other man fell back, landing with a head-banging thud on the big welcome mat set before the door. The letters W-E--E framed his head and shoulders.
"Your old lady's up at Keys' place!" Jack roared. "Hanging out with his old lady. Now you gonna get up peaceably, or do I gotta hit you again?"<
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Crack shook his head, and slowly scrambled to his feet. He swiped at his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "She told me she was comin' up here to see you."
"Yeah, she saw me and my old lady. Had supper with us, then headed up to stay with Keys' and his woman. Red's been with the club all her life, knows how to make a visiting old lady feel welcome."
Not that Kit would waste her talents on Coral, who'd been as big a bitch to her as to Lindi. Coral was at Keys' place because with Kit working at home and thus around most of the time, Coral would not be able to use Keys or Remington to play into her make-Crack-jealous scheme. But Crack didn't need to know this.
"I find out you and her hooked up, there's gonna be hell to pay," Crack said. And even though Jack could take him in a fight, and had just proven so, Jack nodded.
"I repeat, and this time hear me, brother. There is nothing between me and Coral. She's yours, all you gotta do is sweeten her up and take her home."
Crack's scowl darkened. "I'll sweeten her ass with my belt, more likely."
Whatever. She'd likely approve, long as he was paying attention to her. Jack didn't care, as long as the both of them got gone.
Finally, Crack climbed back on his Harley and headed up the mountain. Jack immediately phoned Keys to warn them of his arrival, and Keys swore Coral would be on the front porch, suitcases packed in her Camaro, or he'd knock her out and ship her back there on a car carrier himself.
Jack went into the kitchen and found a bag of frozen peas. This impromptu ice-bag pressed to his face, he slumped in a chair in the living room and gazed at his attempt at providing Lindi a Christmas tree.
What a fucked-up couple of days this was turning out to be. What was next, a polar bear showing up in the driveway?
A short time later, Jack heard the garage door go up, then down. Lindi's quiet steps sounded as she came in from the garage, across the wood floor. She paused in the entry to the living room.
He lowered the peas and looked to her. She stood there, a red woolly poncho draped over her jacket, jeans and boots. Her honey-blonde hair hung in long curls, her lip gloss and nails matched the poncho, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold. She looked like a sexy Christmas elf. The prettiest woman he'd ever seen. The only one he'd fight and die to keep.