Burning Hot Rumors (Choices: Tarkio MC Book 2)

by Debra Kayn

  "There's the van." He slowed, drove past the vehicle parked at the curb, and made a U-turn and parked. "It doesn't look that bad. Hopefully, the engine is good."

  A dull gray color, the van had no windows on the side. It looked like a boring version of the Scooby Doo mystery van she remembered seeing on the cartoons on Saturday morning as a kid. The kind you expect to see have smoke rolling out when you open the doors and the kind your parents warned you away from getting inside of if the driver looked creepy.

  "Why don't you rent a house instead of living in a van? It's not going to be easy keeping it warm this winter," she said.

  "I can get a one-ten heater and put it inside. I don't need much space. That way, I can either sell it when I move on or buy a trailer for my motorcycle and take it with me." He looked at her and grinned. "I'll never be homeless."

  He opened the door and walked over to the van. She remained sitting in the truck, blown away by the smile he'd given her. All the months of working with him, she'd never seen his mouth change from the straight line behind his beard. The change was night and day.

  She was the only one in the truck with him when he'd smiled. He'd given that to her, and for whatever reason, it was the nicest thing to happen to her since her dad died.

  Physically shaking as a result, she stayed in the seat and watched him through the windshield. The owner came out of the house and shook Kent's hand, then opened the van.

  Kent stood at least a foot taller than the other man. She'd noticed how tall he was, but even Kent's broad shoulders and width of his body made the other guy look small. No wonder the motels in the area were reluctant to let him stay.

  He looked formidable.

  Yet, she'd learned that he was soft-spoken, polite, and had a lot of patience with customers. She slid her hands between her thighs to keep them warm.

  Because of him, she was able to get through the hard task of burying her father. He'd also taken responsibility for calling the distributers and the gas company to let them know that her dad had passed away. It wasn't necessary, because her name was on the deed as co-owner of the business, but because he'd let them all know, she was never faced with having to announce the news to every deliveryman who came to the gas station or answer the question about where her dad was.

  Mostly, Kent stuck around, and she was grateful to have him with her.

  She wouldn't know what would've happened if he'd left her to work by herself. Most days, she could barely remember to eat or tally up the profits at the end of the day.

  Kent went inside the van, out of view. She looked at her lap. It wasn't lost on her that Josh hadn't run him off with all his lies about her.

  Deep down, through every confrontation she witnessed between Kent and Josh, she'd known what was happening. It was the way Josh handled everything.

  He never wanted her, even when they were married, but if someone else came into her life or he thought her attention was going toward someone else rather than him, he became unreasonable.

  She was sure that's why he'd started all the rumors. It helped him keep everyone away from her.

  And, his method had worked.

  Kent climbed out of the van and straightened to his full height. Her heart pounded. She wanted Kent to stay working for her.

  Knowing that's how she felt, she feared Josh ruining her life again and making Kent leave. She wouldn't put it past Josh to have the motels ban Kent from staying there, considering the altercations the two of them had already gotten into at the gas station. Josh could do that. His family ran the town and had everyone scared of not doing what he asked.

  Kent walked toward the truck. She swallowed hard, anxious to know if he decided to buy the van. He absolutely couldn't stay over the winter in Montana while living in a tent. The thought that he'd try, for her sake, would be suicidal for him.

  She rolled down the window when he approached her side of the truck. Afraid he had bad news, she held her breath.

  He lifted his eyebrow. "I'm going to take it for a drive around the block. Will you be okay here?"

  "Yes." She exhaled in relief. "Take your time. I can wait for you."

  He cocked his head, studying her. Then, she did something she hadn't done in years. She returned the smile he'd given her earlier.

  Kent nodded, tapped his hand against the door, and backed up a few steps before turning and taking the keys from the owner of the van.

  Then, she did something else she hadn't done in a long, long time. She crossed her fingers and hoped the van passed Kent's test drive.

  Chapter 12

  Kent

  KENT PUT THE CASH FROM his pocket in the register while eyeing Callie. Every few steps between the aisle, she slid her foot along the floor.

  He watched her move, stop, slide. Yesterday, she walked the same way.

  "What's wrong?" he said, knowing there were no customers in the store at the moment.

  Her head came up. "What?"

  "Did you hurt yourself the other day? You're limping or favoring your foot."

  She looked down, frowned, and raised her head. "The hem of my jeans keep getting caught under the heel of my shoe."

  He studied her body again, something he'd gotten into the habit of doing lately. It was understandable that she'd neglected herself while mourning her dad. He hadn't noticed her taking a trip to the big grocery store in town for food since before her dad passed away. Once in a while, he noticed she'd taken a can of tuna and a bag of chips off the shelves before she locked up for the night, but he had no proof she was eating three meals a day at home.

  "You've lost weight," he said. "Your jeans are dragging."

  "My jeans are..." She looked down again.

  She plucked at the extra material on the front of her shirt and at the denim covering her thighs and shook her head. "I-I guess, I have. That's not a bad thing."

  "The hell it is. You need to eat a good meal." He walked toward the door. "I'm going to buy you dinner tonight."

  He checked his watch. The gas station closed in a half hour. In thirty minutes, he needed to figure out what he thought she'd eat and where to get it.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you."

  He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "You have a problem with me?"

  "No. Not you." She groaned. "It's me. I don't go out to restaurants."

  He raised his brows in questions.

  "It's a small town. I know everyone." She pursed her lips. "They know me."

  "So, I'll bring food to your house." He walked out the door before she could argue her way out of eating with him after work.

  A car rolled up to the pump. A couple sat in the vehicle. He went up to the driver's side.

  "What can I get you?" he asked.

  "Fill it up or ten dollars. Whichever one happens first." The man handed him a ten spot.

  After he engaged the pump, he washed the front windshield. Glancing over at the rolling numbers, he moved to the back of the car and cleaned the window. He made the last swipe when the pump clicked off.

  Squinting, he read the amount. "Nine dollars and fifteen cents. I'll run that up to twenty-five for you."

  He tossed the scrubber into the bucket, dug in his pocket, and extracted three quarters. "Here you go."

  The man held out his hand. He dropped the coins in his palm, stepped around the car, and topped his tank off.

  While he hung up the nozzle, he motioned for the woman in the passenger seat to roll down her window.

  He bent at the waist. "Do you folks know of a nice restaurant around town that offers take-out?"

  The woman looked toward her husband. Taking his cue, he lowered his head and looked at the man, who scratched his jaw.

  "Annie's Place is a good one." The man looked at his wife. "Do they let you order and take the food home?"

  "I think so," she said.

  The guy pointed. "Annie's is over on Buffalo Avenue, off the main street as you head toward the school."

  "Yeah, I think I know wher
e that is. Thanks." He straightened and stepped away from the car.

  Three more customers came. He asked two of them for their suggestions. He had a choice between Chinese food, burgers, and more of a homestyle menu at Annie's Place.

  After the last car, he shut down the pump for the night. Going inside, he emptied his pockets and handed the money over to Callie.

  She quickly counted the bills, the coins, and added them to the money bag. It was a habit of hers to clean out the register each evening. A smart move, since she couldn't see the front of the gas station from the trailer at night.

  He always stayed with her to make sure she got the money safely into the house. Desperate people would often hit gas stations, especially at closing time, hoping to steal the day's earnings.

  She closed the drawer. "That's it. I'm done."

  Knowing the front door was locked, and the sign turned, he walked out the back door with her. "Give me an hour, and I'll be back with dinner."

  She stopped and faced him. "You really don't have to do that. I'm tired, and just planned to shower and go to bed."

  He opened the side bag on his Harley and removed his leather coat and gloves. "Go ahead and sleep, but I'll pound on the door when I get back and wake you up. You need to eat."

  "I don't need to eat," she whispered. "Anyway, I needed to lose weight."

  "Ah, Bullshit." He put on his helmet and sat his Harley. "See you in a bit."

  He rode off. She wasn't getting out of eating with him tonight.

  His need to make sure she was taking care of herself had nothing to do with his promise to her dad. He cared about her.

  He spent every hour of the day with her, and somewhere along the way, he started to see past the wall she'd put up. When he wasn't with her, he spent all his time trying to figure out how to demolish the wall.

  Chapter 13

  Callie

  CALLIE RUSHED THROUGH taking a shower, dried her hair, put clean clothes on, and picked up the odd items on the table. She wanted to go to bed and forget life for however long her body would let her sleep, but she also wanted to have dinner with Kent.

  And, it scared her to have dinner with Kent.

  Her body remained tight with tension. She blew out her breath. She was too old to think Kent coming over after work was anything more than him making sure she had something good to eat. It should've surprised her that he'd noticed her skipping meals and eating the bare minimum from the store.

  Ironic that she couldn't find the will power to lose weight over the last three years, and then when she hadn't given the extra weight a second thought, it melted off her. With her dad not here to cook meals for, it took more energy than she had to make something for herself.

  Food never filled the empty feeling inside of her. Nothing seemed to help. The only time she got a break from the world pressing in on her was when she slept, and yet her sleep was interrupted with a sadness that she couldn't shake.

  Afraid she leaned too much on Kent to fill the loneliness, she shook her weak arms to calm her nerves. She was petrified of getting hurt.

  The moment she relied on Kent to keep her company, he'd probably up and leave on his motorcycle.

  Besides her dad, there was not one single person who hadn't hurt her. Whether by believing and repeating Josh's rumors or former friends who chose to stay away from her—which spoke volumes that they believed Josh's lies over her— she had lost everyone in her life.

  "I'm being ridiculous," she muttered, sitting down on the couch.

  There was no reason to try and impress Kent. He knew how she lived, knew what she'd gone through losing her dad, knew what other people thought of her.

  Once he lived in Missoula long enough, he'd meet more people and have a social life. He'd already made friends with members of Tarkio Motorcycle Club, and now he lived in the driveway of Curley's house.

  Soon, he'd stop going out of his way to make life easier for her and do the things he enjoyed—like ride his motorcycle, probably hang out at the river in the summer, and attend the parties around town.

  There would be women around him. Women who had no baggage or a bad reputation.

  Now agitated at herself, she got up and paced from the window to the table waiting for him. The longer she waited, the angrier she grew.

  He probably wasn't even serious about having dinner with her. Kent could've mentioned eating together to gauge her reaction, and she'd stood there like a bumbling fool when she could've been more gracious about accepting, or stronger in turning him down.

  Josh used to do that to her all the time. He'd mention they were out of milk, and if she came home from working all day without any, he blew up at her as if she was supposed to read his mind. She never understood why he couldn't come right out and tell her to pick up the milk. How was she supposed to know he wasn't going to buy a carton on his way home, and that's why he spoke about not having any in the house?

  She inhaled deeply, wound up tighter than she'd been in a long time. What if Kent believed the rumors and he was going to come back with dinner, and then expect her to have sex with him?

  According to Josh, she was already supposed to be having sex with Kent. Like, she couldn't get that out of her mind.

  She squeezed her eyes closed. Until Kent, she hadn't even thought about sex since her divorce.

  Her stomach growled. The sound echoed in the hollowness inside of her.

  It'd shocked her when Kent told her she'd lost weight. Caught up in running the gas station and dealing with her dad's death, she hadn't paid attention to herself in a long time. Trying to get in shape and lose the extra weight around her middle was the least of her concerns when she worried about her dad's health and Josh making a fool of himself by trying to come into the gas station.

  A loud rumble permeated the walls. She walked back over to the window and pulled the drape back. Kent rode up to the trailer on his Harley and parked in front of the door.

  Nerves flooded her body, and her stomach fluttered. She wasn't sure what would happen, only that he'd kept his word and came back. Going by the sack in his hands, he'd also picked up dinner.

  She walked over to the door and opened it, letting him in.

  A cool gust of wind came in with him, making the leather scent from his jacket fill her nostrils. She followed him to the table. He'd been inside enough times, he knew where to go.

  "I bought us each a roast beef, potatoes, and vegetable plate. If you don't like that, I also got a container of stew." He put the sack down.

  "I like roast beef." She stepped into the kitchen and grabbed silverware, plates, and glasses. "Is that from Annie's Place?"

  "Yeah." He looked at her across the table. "Have you been there?"

  "A long time ago." She turned away and grabbed the milk out of the fridge.

  Opening the carton, she inhaled and closed the opening quickly. "The milk has gone bad."

  "Water is fine." He sat down. "Do you have butter? It looks like there're rolls in here, too."

  "I think so." She opened up the refrigerator again. "Yeah, I do. Do you want me to run over to the gas station and get milk?"

  The desire to make things perfect and not turn him away made her willing to go out in the cold weather.

  "No need." He passed Styrofoam containers toward the other side of the table. "Though, I'll take a beer after I finish eating if you have one."

  "I do." She sat down, staring at all the food laid out in front of her. "Dad...he liked to have one every so often before..." Her chest tightened. "I'll check the expiration date on them. It's been a while."

  "Eat up before it gets cold." Kent picked up a fork and arranged the food on his plate, putting the roast right in the middle of his mashed potatoes, then pouring gravy out of the cup over everything.

  Fascinated at the way he placed his food, she scooped out the same food items, making sure they never touched, and her gravy wouldn't spill out of her potatoes. She picked up the carton full of mixed vegetables and added some to h
er plate.

  Her stomach gnawed at the delicious aroma filling the area. Because of her work schedule, she couldn’t remember the last time she'd made a big meal. Most of the time, she'd fixed whatever was easiest for her and her dad. Many nights, they both settled down with a bowl of oatmeal because it was quick, satisfying, and filling.

  It seemed silly now to fix something big for only her.

  Kent buttered a roll and set it on her plate before he picked up another one for himself. She sealed her lips around the fork and pulled off the warm potatoes. A moan slipped out, and she ducked her chin, hoping it was only in her head.

  "It is good." Kent piled roast beef on his roll and consumed half. "I could get used to eating this way every night."

  She nodded, agreeing with him. "What kind of things do you eat in your van? Or do you go to a restaurant every night?"

  "Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." He barely took time away from the food to answer her.

  She'd noticed him eating a sandwich outside at lunchtime. "You can't survive off only that."

  "I could say the same about you." He glanced at her. "You can't survive off tuna. You're losing too much weight."

  She scoffed. "You know what I looked like before dad di...well, I needed to lose weight."

  "Says who?" His head came back, and he frowned.

  "Me." She shrugged and took another bite of food to keep from answering.

  Halfway through her food, her stomach filled. She looked over everything that was left. There was enough for another dinner tomorrow night.

  Kent finished his plate. She scooted her chair back and stood, going to the fridge. Looking at the six-pack, she found the expiration date and deemed them still good enough to drink and carried him a can.

  "Thanks." He leaned back and patted his stomach. "Damn, that was good."

  "There's more if you're still hungry." She lifted the container of potatoes.