I wouldn’t have an excuse to keep my back to him if we ate lunch.
And yet, I didn’t want to turn him down.
Catch-22. I was fucked no matter what I did, so I may as well go out with him, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
“No. Not at work. I can meet you somewhere for dinner at seven. Tell me where.” I was painting an area that didn’t take creativity while I talked to him. Lines and shadows, nothing complicated. He needed to leave soon though.
He named a barbecue place with an excellent menu, and with several locations around town.
“Tell me which is closest to you, and we’ll go to that one.”
Owls are sneaky. And smart. I suppressed a sigh and told him which would be the easiest for me to get to after going home for a shower.
And then I realized I’d just told him I lived next door to my ex. It didn’t matter how much I’d worked to hide my location. He only had to find out where Gil lived. Fuck me.
When he left, I stretched out on the scaffolding and stared at the ceiling. My creative muse had left the building, and I needed to get her back. In order to do that, I had to figure out what the fuck had just happened.
Frost, the man I’d fallen in love with and then tried for months to forget, had just walked in and flipped my world on its side.
I sat up, turned my phone on, and looked through the sketches and paintings I’d done in preparation for this job. I wasn’t up to painting, so I washed my brushes, closed the paints, cleaned my palette, dug an easily erasable pencil from my bag, and started measuring where I needed to sketch the columns on the side wall. You can’t let your mind wander while you’re doing math.
Somehow, I managed to stay productive the rest of the day, but then my mind wandered once again while I drove home.
Home meant something different now than it had during the riots.
My new neighborhood was hit hard during the battle, but I’d lived in a smaller house across town at the time, where the fighting had been minimal. I’d bought my new house after, at a rock-bottom price, and then fixed it up myself. Squatters had messed up some of the interior, but it was structurally sound — the roof was intact and nothing had been burned, so it was a good deal. I’d needed to tear out floors and sheetrock, pay someone to put them back in, and then paint the walls myself. Gil and I still owned the old house, and we were renting it out until housing prices recovered.
This new house was a lot of square footage for one person, but the kids were over a lot, and I kept telling myself someday I might have my own kids. Mainly, I liked it because it sat on four acres, enclosed by a stone wall. Three of those acres made up my mostly-forested backyard, which was also walled off from the front. For the first time in my life, I could walk out my back door and let my lynx roam.
This also meant that even though my ex lived next door, he wasn’t all that close. We couldn’t look out our windows and see the other.
On this day, I came home from work, stripped out of my work clothes in the laundry-room, walked out the back door completely naked, and swam laps in the pool until my muscles were jelly. I finally went back inside, up the overly dramatic staircase, took a shower, conditioned the hell out of my hair, and then stood naked in the center of my closet.
What the fuck was I supposed to wear?
My fifteen-year-old stepdaughter had organized my closet, so one wall held my clubbing and biker clothes, another held my everyday clothes. Two-thirds of another wall held dressy stuff, and the other third was my painting clothes — mostly everyday clothes that’d been downgraded to clothes I didn’t mind fucking up.
The dressy wall was out, but so was my slut wall. That left my everyday clothes, but nothing felt right. I heard Nora’s footsteps coming down the hall, into my room, and finally to my closet.
“Are you okay?”
Right, because I usually come home and either fix food or toss a bunch of raw meat into the backyard and then change to lynx and stay that way until morning.
“I’m going out to eat with someone and I have no idea what to wear.”
This was going to be tricky. How would the kids feel about me going on a date? I was pretty sure they all thought their dad and I would eventually get back together.
“Where are you going? And with who?”
Since I didn’t want Gil to know where or who, I couldn’t tell his daughter. We’d both agreed not to put the kids in the middle of our shit, which meant never telling them something and then guilting them into keeping it secret. “Super casual place. Barbecue and burgers. I think it’s a date. Maybe.”
A first date with someone who’s fucked me more times than I can count. Probably best not to say that part. I try to always be honest with the kids, but I didn’t need to be that honest.
Nora walked to my everyday section and got a pair of jeans, and then to my slut section and grabbed a tight-fitting shirt with horizontal stripes. “You’ll have to play around with belts, but I think the black leather one with the silver studs will work. Shoes are a toss-up — white sneakers, or black wedge heels, depending on the message you want to send.”
Something from both walls. Why hadn’t I thought of that? “How do you know this?”
“It’s fashion. I know fashion. Do you like this guy?”
“Probably. Maybe. I guess I’ll find out over dinner.”
She opened her mouth to say something, and I spoke before she could. “Yes, there’s stuff I’m not telling you, but nothing I’ve said is untrue. I should be home before ten, so you’re welcome stay here if you want, just make sure you let your dad and I know where you’ll be.”
That was the rule — she had to tell us in a group chat where she’d be. She’d gone to a friend’s house when I thought she was at Gil’s and Gil thought she was with me. She’d lost her phone and been grounded to her dad’s house for a week. I’d missed her, but I’d supported his decision.
“So, it’s like a date date?”
“I think it might be, but it’s been so long since I went on a date date, I’m not certain. How do you feel about me dating other men?”
“I don’t know. We know you did sex stuff with a bunch of men on the weekends for a while, and sometimes during the week, but dad does that too, with women, and it’s okay because we figured out it doesn’t mean anything.”
Right. I showered before I saw them, but even in human form, wolves can easily smell whether you’ve had sex with someone — or a bunch of someones.
“Well, at some point your father will start dating again, and you and your brothers will have to deal with that. Same goes for me, and maybe tonight will be the start of me dating again, or maybe it won’t.”
“Is he picking you up here?”
“No. I’m meeting him.”
And it was time to change the subject. I asked her how school went, and she was more than happy to tell me about her day, and about the latest high school dramas.
Chapter Three
Cheyenne
I saw his bike when I pulled into the lot — black and chrome and sexy as fuck. He’d never ridden me on it, even though I’d hinted once that I’d love to go for a ride with him. The asshole hadn’t even acknowledged me when I’d asked. Though, come to think of it, I hadn’t technically asked.
Would he take me for a ride tonight, if I asked it as a blunt question? Did I want him to?
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I checked it. Tell the hostess you’re with Frost. She’ll bring you to me.
He’d never texted me before, and I hadn’t given him my number. I decided not to ask him how he got it — I’d had to give it to Mad Dog, along with a bunch of other information, before I could become an official friend of the club, which was what had allowed me clubhouse privileges.
But I was no longer welcome on MC grounds. My own fault. I’d known what I was doing when I walked out.
The hostess gave me a curious once-over before she walked me to Frost, and their interaction when she seated me told me
the two had fucked. No surprise, most of the bikers are man-whores. I had no problem with it when I was fucking all of them, so I shouldn't have a problem with it now, but it seemed tacky for them to be obvious about it when Frost had asked me to dinner. I didn’t let my annoyance reach past my thoughts, though. No way did I want him to pick up on it.
“You’re irritated.” Those icy-blue eyes looked me over without giving anything away. No emotions, just logic.
My face showed surprise before I could school it, and then I sat back and rolled my eyes at him. “Damn birds and your eyesight. Don’t read anything into it other than me thinking it was rude for the two of you to flaunt your comfort with each other when you’d asked me to have dinner with you.”
“It probably was, but I haven’t taken someone to dinner like this since... damn. Since long before the battle. It didn’t occur to me it might be rude. I apologize.”
Wow. I said the only thing I could. “Apology accepted. Thank you.”
“The brisket is exceptional here, but then, pretty much everything is. Do you know what you want?”
“Yes. I’m going to have one of every animal they serve — some pig, some cow, some chicken, and some buffalo.” I’d grabbed fast food for lunch, but not enough.
He chuckled. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Pork barbecue, spicy barbecue chicken, a buffalo burger, and I’ll round it out with beef brisket.”
“Sounds good, but I’ll have the chicken tenders. I thought birds don’t usually eat other birds?”
“Some don’t. Snowy owls eat other birds in the wild, so it’s no biggy for me.”
“Snowy owls have different plumage in the summer, right? Can you choose which to have when you change?”
He shook his head. “Same feathers year-round. Males are solid white, females have some brown mixed in. I have to be super careful when I fly, so humans don’t see me. I imagine you don’t have many opportunities to let the lynx out.”
Between the boisterous environment, the pool tables in the back, and the live band, there was no danger of humans overhearing our conversation.
“My backyard is around three acres, and it has a high, solid fence all the way around. I frequently come home, throw a bunch of raw meat in the backyard, shift, and don’t come back to human until morning.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Nice.”
“It is. I have a pool, but the cat doesn’t appreciate it as much as the human.”
He chuckled, and then smiled at the waitress when she approached. He ordered for both of us, which was fine since I’d told him what I wanted. He ordered himself a beer and looked to me to see what I wanted. “I’ll have water with lemon, please.”
He gave me a languid look, and spoke to the waitress while he stared at me. “Bring her four shots of whiskey while you’re at it. Gentleman Jack if you have it, if not, whatever’s top shelf that isn’t Irish.”
I couldn’t help my eyebrows lifting. It seemed he’d paid attention to what I liked, after all.
“Let’s start with one shot, if it isn’t Gentleman Jack,” I told her. I didn’t want to be stuck with four shots of something I didn’t care for.
She nodded, stuck her pencil back into her hair, and left.
“Have you fucked the entire female staff?” I asked with a smile. She’d tried to be familiar with him as well, but he’d rebuffed her and kept his eyes on me. It seemed he was trying.
He shrugged. “I’m sure they have someone new I haven’t had a chance at yet. Did I do better this time?”
“You did. I’m…” I sighed. “Surprised, actually. What gives?”
He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and looked at me a few seconds. Finally, he said, “Part of me wants to play it cool and see what happens, but the owl isn’t up for that. He wants me to be all blunt and honest.”
“I’m good with blunt and honest.”
“I didn’t know I was going to miss you. I saw you give me a chance to step in and say something before you walked out, but I didn’t have a clue what you wanted from me, and I’m not sure what I could’ve said to salvage the situation at that point, anyway. Looking back, I wish I’d tried, but it all happened too fast and I missed my chance, and then I wasn’t sure there would ever be another chance.” His gaze met mine full-on. Crystal blue eyes, clear as a cold winter day. Hard, but heated. His hair is so blond it’s nearly white in places, and that just adds to the cold, emotionless image he projects.
It took work to hold his gaze, but I refused to look down. “So why didn’t you contact me before?”
“I’ve had your phone number, but I couldn’t figure out what to say. I do better in person.”
The waitress brought our drinks, and I assumed it was Gentleman Jack since she sat four shot glasses down along with my water. When she left, I asked, “Are you on parole, still?”
“No. McKnight got everything reduced to misdemeanor charges as part of the plea, so when they let me go, that was it. No parole officer, and I can still vote and carry and all that.”
“I want to ask how things are with the club, but I’m betting you can’t tell me anything.”
“I’ll sit down with Mad Dog and Squatch soon, let them know I’m seeing you away from the clubhouse, and that you own part of a firm that’s subcontracting under us. Nothing will happen while we’re at this stage, but if we get serious...” He looked out the window a few seconds and looked back to me. “You’d be coming back as mine, not as a sweetbutt, but there’d have to be something because of the way you left. They might let me deliver whatever it is instead of Squatch, but if the big guy feels dissed, he’s gonna want to do it.”
I stood and went to the bathroom. I needed a minute to myself without him analyzing my face and scenting my emotions. The thoughts of returning as his had been a fantasy, but he was talking as if it was a possibility.
I shook my head and looked at myself in the mirror. Fuck. Was it even healthy to consider it?
I’d had sex with a few men since I’d walked out of the Rolling Thunder clubhouse, and I’d discovered the bikers had done something to me. The last couple of months I’d been a sweetbutt, I don’t think I’d had an orgasm when they hadn’t been twisting my nipples, or unless they’d just spanked me, or fingered me with too many fingers so I’d been sore before they started fucking me. Deliciously, agonizingly sore.
And I discovered, while fucking these other men, that I could no longer orgasm from normal sex.
Now, my clit pulsed between my legs at the thought of Frost using a belt on me in front of everyone, claiming me in front of his brothers so I could return.
I wet a paper towel and went into a stall. I wiped the back of my neck, the sides and front of it, my chest, and my stomach and sides. The chill of the water helped me center. I walked back to the sink, washed my hands, and glared at myself in the mirror. You’re a grown woman. Do not fall all over him. You’re going home tonight — without him.
I tossed the paper towel in the trash and returned to him.
“Sorry about that. Why don’t we table any discussion of the club for now? It looks like you have the construction company going full-speed ahead. We’re turning away five times the work we accept — I imagine it’s the same for you.”
“Yes. Our biggest logistics problem is getting enough concrete, so at least for now, we’re only taking on jobs that use it in the foundation.”
“Yeah. We have the contract to paint the lines in a parking garage, and the dates keep getting pushed back. I understand the concrete problem is hurting everyone.”
Chapter Four
Frost
We talked shop through the barbecue and chicken portions of our meal. When the waitress brought out the bison burgers, I decided it was time to get personal again.
“You really live next door to your ex?”
“Yeah, but we live on huge lots, so it isn’t like he’s just right there. We’re about a hundred and twenty yards away from each other, and a stand of trees blocks the view.
My stepdaughter spends lots of time with me, and my stepsons frequently come for dinner, or come to use the pool.”
“How old are they?”
“Nora’s fifteen, and the boys are eight. Twins. I have a feeling they’re only a year or so from their first change, though it’s early.”
I could see her affection for the kids when she talked about them, and her worry for the boys, with the possibility of them first changing so young.
“Does Nora have control yet?”
“The Pack runs a high school, which helps. There’s no way she’d manage at a human school, but she has enough control to maintain ninety-five percent of the time. She comes to my house when she’s having trouble. It seems my cat helps her hold onto her control, while her dad’s expectations make it harder.”
“They don’t get along?”
“She had him wrapped around her little finger when she was younger, but then she became a teenager and she lost his trust. She’s still his baby girl, and always will be, but she knows how to push his buttons, and he’s more than happy to blow up at her when she does. Mostly, they’re okay, but I can hear them fighting from my house about once a month.”
“I didn’t see you as the mom type, before, but I can totally see it now. You want kids of your own?”
“Eventually, but not yet. I bought a house that’s way too big for me — partly because it was an excellent investment and I’ll be able to sell it for a fortune when the market recovers, but also because there’s a chance I’ll want to grow a family there someday. Also, my cat likes it.”
I wasn’t at all happy about her living by her ex, and yet, the fact she was still there for his kids endeared her to me even more. I’d met her ex and had deemed him trustworthy and capable from a business perspective, but hadn’t delved farther than that. Now, I wished I had.
Frost (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 3) Page 2