Burning Hot Rumors (Choices: Tarkio MC Book 2)

by Debra Kayn

  Kent looked at her. She turned around, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping on their conversation. There were fifteen more minutes left on the oven timer.

  She'd heard her dad wishing things were different many times before. Living with him was her life now. She wouldn't change anything.

  She blew out her breath. An uncomfortable pressure built in her chest, knowing more about Kent. She empathized with him losing his parents. That had to be the hardest thing in the world to live through.

  Purposely talking to herself to keep from hearing Kent's reply to her dad's praises about her, she walked to her bedroom, gathered her clothes hamper, and started the washer by the back door. Holding onto the washing machine, she let her chin fall to her chest. At one time, she would've found Kent attractive. She would've flirted with him. She had enjoyed her life before she'd gotten married.

  The muscles in her neck tensed, and she lifted her shoulders, straining to relax them. The years she spent dating Josh, she'd had the time of her life. There hadn't been a minute of the day she wasn't thinking about him. She'd never experienced such a wide range of emotions.

  She wanted to be with him. Only him. There were times she'd forgotten about the world around her, because her mornings, days, nights went to him, whether they were together or not.

  When he'd asked her to marry him, she was the happiest she'd ever been. All her dreams for her future were coming true. She wanted nothing more than to love him, start a family, and experience life with him through every single step.

  What she'd learned was that he enjoyed cheating on her more than he wanted to be with her.

  Josh had never loved her.

  He only married her to have a trophy wife at home to make his family name look good. Josh's dad had pressured him to settle down.

  The timer in the kitchen buzzed. She shook the ugly feelings out of her head and walked to the oven to check the casserole. If Kent wasn't here, she would've taken a plate to her dad and let him eat in front of the television. She couldn't do that when he had company, so she set the table with mismatched plates.

  After the house fire, it was easy to pick up tableware at the second-hand store in town, but only two of the plates matched. She set the unmatched one in front of her chair. It never bothered her to eat from older dishes, but the slight imperfection seemed to point an arrow at her chest.

  She was the odd person out at the table. She was the town slut.

  "Dig in." Her dad scooped out a heaping mound of casserole, more for the benefit of his guest. His appetite wasn't that big.

  She waited until Kent took a turn at getting his helping, then she took a small amount. The meal wasn't fancy. All she'd done was put a layer of tater tots, another layer of ground beef, added a can of green beans, and topped it all with grated cheese, salt, and pepper.

  Concentrating on her food so as not to stare straight ahead at Kent, she forgot to slow down. Once she put the fork in her mouth, she was done before both men at the table.

  Excusing herself, she carried her plate to the sink, rinsed it off, and left it there to wash when the others finished. Feeling as if judged, she walked outside into the backyard to wait until Kent left.

  It was an awful time for her dad to feel as if he had to entertain when he wasn't feeling his best. She sat at the end of the deck and dangled her legs off the side. There had to be a way for her to convince her dad to see the doctor.

  But unless her dad signed the paper, giving her power of attorney in his care, she couldn't force him to seek medical help.

  Her dad was convinced that he wasn't done living yet. Deep down, she knew admitting he needed help added more responsibility on her shoulders—something he refused to do, though she'd always take care of him, as long as he needed her.

  Even if things hadn't changed, and she was still married to Josh, her dad was her dad. She'd always make sure he was getting the best of care. They only had each other, and nothing would make her walk away from the only family member she had left.

  Chapter 4

  Kent

  ED LOST HIS HOLD ON the box, and his body pitched forward. Kent put his arm out, catching his boss from falling.

  He waited until Ed gained his balance and then picked up the merchandise. "I'll get the last two boxes before I head out to the pump."

  Ed coughed, leaning against the wall. He studied the older man, unsure if he should go get Callie or Ed would find his strength on his own. Lately, he'd witnessed more coughing fits that threatened to knock the man over and zap all his strength.

  There was something medically wrong for Ed to lose all his energy over a coughing fit. Neither Ed nor Callie had mentioned any kind of sickness.

  He carried the box out of the storage room and set it to the side of the aisle in the front of the building, out of the way of customers coming and going.

  When he straightened, he sought out Callie to tell her about Ed and found her walking toward the back, obviously having heard her father's struggle to catch his breath.

  He stayed out front, covering the cash register in case a customer came and gave Callie time to make sure everything was okay.

  Barely able to hear her voice over the music playing from the boombox behind the counter, he sat on the stool. His work experience in the past involved companies, crews, unions, and blue-collar jobs. Working at Moore's Gas Station gave him his first look at working for a family.

  There was an intimacy going on around him during the time he worked. Callie looked out for her dad, and even not feeling well, Ed made sure Callie had someone around once the doors opened. Her father cared about her safety.

  Their relationship reminded him of his mom. He hadn't thought about his childhood in years.

  But there was a time when he was the man in the house, although still a teenager. His dad was fighting a war, and he became his mom's protector, gave her support, and made sure everything was okay.

  A male customer walked through the front door. He dipped his chin, acknowledging the guy as he headed straight to the beer coolers along the far wall. It wasn't his job to help people inside, and Ed needed Callie at the moment. He wasn't going to call her away from her dad.

  The guy knew where he was going and what he wanted, and returned to the counter carrying a case of Rainier. Kent had no idea how much the beer cost.

  "Ed hire a new worker?" The man set his purchase on the counter and grabbed a wad of cash from his front pocket.

  "That he did." Kent glanced toward the back. "If you wait a few minutes, someone will be out here to take your money."

  The guy rocked back on the heels of his boots and scoffed. "Yeah, Callie's good at taking my money."

  Kent studied him harder. Not knowing Callie's circle of friends and acquaintances, he held back his opinion. He'd known men like the guy in front of him. They were full of themselves, until faced with someone bigger and stronger, and then they backed down.

  The man's blond hair and polo shirt pointed at him being spoiled and coming from money. The dude probably hadn't worked hard enough to get a callous on his hand before.

  His wise-ass comment about Callie proved he needed to overcompensate around women and could be a real asshole. The fact that the guy acted as if he knew Callie well enough to insult her sat wrong with him. It wasn't his business, but no woman deserved to put up with that kind of shit.

  Callie hurried out of the backroom, lifted her head, and the toe of her sneaker caught on the floor. She slowed, jerking her gaze away from the man on the other side of the counter.

  She went to Kent's side and softly said, "Can you walk with my dad back to the house?"

  "What the hell's wrong with Ed?" The customer crossed his arms and leaned back. "The son of a bitch is too tough to need someone to hold his hand."

  Callie tensed, gazing at Kent. He wasn't sure about leaving her alone with the man, despite the customer acting like he knew the family.

  "Please," mouthed Callie.

  "Yell if you need anything."
He stepped around her and walked to the back.

  Finding Ed making his way to the back of the building, Kent walked faster and opened the door. Without a word, he strolled beside Callie's dad, ready to grab him if he started coughing again. The older man's steps were slower than earlier. His skin was paler. Something was definitely going on.

  At the house, he opened the door. Ed stepped inside. "Go help Callie, son."

  "I'll see you inside." Taken back at the way Ed used the endearment, he waited.

  Ed headed toward his chair, his intent to sit down obvious. Once Callie's dad was off his feet, Kent closed the door and jogged back to the gas station.

  Instead of walking around the building to return to manning the pump out front, he went inside. Callie deserved to know her pop was settled in the house before he left her alone.

  "Stop fooling yourself."

  Kent stopped in the storage room and cocked his head at the condescending tone of the man's voice. Nobody should talk to Callie that way. Customers bought gas and whatever else they wanted, and then they left. There was nothing important to argue about.

  He walked inside, taking in the customer who'd come to buy beer still in front of the counter. Except, he was no longer relaxed and strutting.

  Callie stood as far back from the counter as she could get, pressed up against the racks of cigarettes. Her usual relaxed posture was now rigid as the frame on his Harley.

  He strode forward and made his presence known. Callie refused to look at him, but the man turned in Kent's direction, his hands balled into fists.

  "Problem?" said Kent.

  "That'd be none of your business, even if you are the current dick between Callie's legs." The man's gaze narrowed. "Why don't you take a walk?"

  "Did he pay for his beer?" he asked.

  "Yes." Callie's answer came softly to his ears.

  He picked up the case and shoved it into the man's chest. "I'll walk you out."

  "I'm not done."

  "You're done."

  "Who the fuck do you think you are?" The man stepped forward, realized he held the beer, and went to put it back on the counter to free his hands.

  Kent grabbed the man by the back of the neck, taking him to the front door. "Let's go."

  "Get your hands off me."

  He pushed out the door and gave the man a shove. If the guy wanted to fight him, he'd need to put down the beer.

  "Watch your back. You don’t know who you're fucking with." The man walked backward. "I'm coming after you."

  He widened his stance and stayed in front of the doors. One punk-ass drunk couldn't do anything to him.

  The man threw the beer in the back of the truck, got inside the cab, and started the engine. Kent never looked away when the man flipped him off and then burned rubber leaving. The guy's threat bounced off him.

  Most of the time, men like that were all talk. But if he wanted to start something, he was more than welcome to try.

  Once the truck rolled out of sight, he turned to go back inside to let Callie know about her dad and a half a dozen bikers rolled into the gas station on their motorcycles and stopped at the pump. He walked forward. It wasn't the first time they'd stopped for gas.

  "What can I get you today?" He stood beside the pump.

  "We'll all need fills." The biker toed his kickstand and remained on his bike. "That beauty must belong to you..."

  Kent looked behind him at his Harley. "Yeah."

  "Sixty-eight?"

  "Sixty-nine." He lifted the nozzle and inserted the tip into the gas tank.

  "Sweet. First owner?"

  "Second." Kent chuckled. "It took every dime I had. Bought it from an old guy who only put two hundred miles on it, then stored it in his garage."

  The biker whistled low, held out his hand. "Curley."

  "Kent Calder." He read the patch on Curley's vest. "How long have you been riding for Tarkio?"

  "Eleven years." Curley put his foot on the peg. "Patched in when I was twenty-one years old and got tired of partying and being broke. Now I can party and have something filling my wallet."

  "You're living the dream." The pump clicked off. He removed the nozzle. "Do you want me to tally the total, or are you paying individually?"

  "You can tally and send the total inside. I'll park out of the way. I need to grab some smokes from Callie." Curley screwed on the gas cap.

  A truck revved its engine, hopped the curb, and ran over the sandwich board sign at the entrance that listed the gas prices for the day. Catching sight of the driver, Kent's cheek twitched. The fucking coward wouldn't face him but took the weak way of getting back by ruining the property of Moore's gas station.

  "Fucker." Curley looked at Kent. "Was that directed at you?"

  "I kicked the guy out of the gas station before you arrived." Kent took out the small notepad from his back pocket and wrote down the number of gallons he'd served. "He seemed to have a problem listening."

  "His name's Josh Hill." Curley toed the kickstand. "You'll see more of him around if you don't stop him now. He's not my favorite person."

  "I hear you."

  "Go ahead and finish filling the rest of the bikes. I'll go make sure Hill stays away for a week or two."

  "What do you mean?"

  Curley grinned. "It only takes four pieces of lead to put flat tires on that ugly piece of metal."

  Before Kent could reply, Curley rode off with two other Tarkio members. The remaining bikers stayed behind, taking their turn at the pump. By the time he'd filled each motorcycle tank, Curley had come back to the station.

  Curley talked with one of the bikers, then walked over to Kent. "Rest easy."

  "Yeah?" He studied Curley as he walked into the building without saying more.

  What the hell happened? He never held himself in debt to anyone. If he had a problem, he took care of it.

  If he wanted a motorcycle club watching his back, he would've joined years ago. He was a loner for a reason.

  Chapter 5

  Callie

  STRETCHING THE PHONE cord to its limit, Callie rounded the checkout counter and put the cylinder container of pepperoni sticks on the rack. "I know, Dr. Banner. I understand you can't speak to me without my father's permission."

  "He has an appointment for next Friday. Try to talk with him about coming in on his visit. I'd be more than happy to talk to you with his permission," said Dr. Banner.

  "Okay." She sighed. "Thank you for returning my call."

  "I wish you luck."

  "Thank you." She swallowed. "Goodbye."

  She put the receiver back on the phone. Bending at her waist, she cradled her head in her hands and groaned. After having another spell two days ago, Callie's dad lost his ability to argue with her about seeing the doctor. His coughing had continued until he'd passed out, and Kent had helped her get him into the truck. She'd taken him straight to the emergency room.

  Luckily, his doctor was making rounds at the hospital and had met them at the door.

  And since she got home, her dad hadn't spoken about how he was feeling or why he needed to see the doctor next week. The new medicines she'd picked up at the pharmacy for him included a muscle relaxer for his respiratory tract and a pain killer.

  "Everything okay?" said Kent.

  She raised her head and straightened. Caught up in her worry, she hadn't heard the bell on the front door ding.

  "Yeah." She grabbed the next box and set it on the counter.

  "Is your dad okay?"

  "He says he is, but..." She shrugged. "He's sick. COPD and a triple bypass have made things hard for him."

  Kent hid his thoughts. Ed's health wasn't going to get better. All they could do was try and make him comfortable and, hopefully not worse.

  "Well, if he needs anything done around here, just tell me. I'll do my best."

  She glanced at Kent. "I appreciate you offering."

  He turned around and headed toward the door. She exhaled heavily. Not wanting to admit that
without Kent around, she would've been over her head taking care of the gas station and her dad, she said, "Kent?"

  He stopped and pivoted. "Yeah?"

  "Thank you." She inhaled deeply. "For your help with my dad and keeping the gas station open while I took him to see the doctor."

  It wasn't easy for her to be grateful to others. She preferred to take care of herself and her dad on her own.

  His gaze softened. "Not a problem."

  "No, really. I appreciate you being here. Once things settle down, I'll see that you're compensated for the extra work."

  "You don't have to—"

  "I do." Her back straightened. "My dad would want you paid for the work you do."

  Kent's brows lowered as if he would argue with her, and then dipped his chin, changing his mind. He left, letting the door swing shut behind him.

  She'd had no option but to trust him to take care of the customers, run the cash register inside, and keep up with his other duties while she'd gone to the hospital with her dad. Without Kent, she would've had no other choice but to close the gas station and lose a day's worth of profits.

  It surprised her when he'd stepped up and offered to handle everything when her dad passed out. Scared and worried about her father, she never gave the business another thought as she'd dealt with the emergency.

  It was only later that night when she'd gone to bed and couldn't sleep, hearing her dad struggle to breathe, had she realized it was an easy decision to let Kent take on more responsibilities. He had more than proven himself to her when he'd kicked Josh out the week before. He could do any job as well as she could, maybe better because he was a big man.

  Plus, anyone who forced her ex to stay away from the gas station deserved a raise.

  For sure, Kent was a far cry better employee than any teenager they'd hired to work the pump.

  The Milton's Bell dinged. She looked out the front window and groaned. Speak of the devil.

  Josh had driven over the hose strung in front of the pump and stopped his truck.

  As if thinking about Josh brought him around, she stayed behind the counter, watching him. It wouldn't surprise her if he started trouble with Kent.