Little Jack

by Atlas, Lilly

  “What? What’s so funny? Am I missing something?”

  LJ tapped the front right pocket of his jeans which bulged more than his left.

  “I don’t get it.” Then her eyes bugged. “Please tell me you don’t have my panties in there.”

  “Sure as fuck do, sugar.” He patted the pocket again. “And they’re mine now.”

  “LJ!” she shrieked as she dove for him, trying to shove her hand into his pocket. “They aren’t even sexy panties! They’re like my everyday, slumming around the house panties. You cannot keep them.”

  He was laughing so hard, he could barely stand, and Holly nearly managed to worm her sneaky fingers into his pocket, so he bent his knees and hoisted her up and over his shoulder.

  “Oh, my God, seriously, LJ?”

  Damn, he just might carry her around like this all the time. Her rounded ass was just inches from his face and so damn enticing he just had to smack a palm over a cheek covered by those fitted workout pants. When she yelped, he did it again then left his hand there, fingers spread over as much surface area as he could touch. “Serious as fuck, babe. Don’t give a shit what kinda panties you had on. Don’t care if they’re your slumming panties or your goddammed Sunday best. They’re fucking soaked with how much you wanted me. I’m keeping them.”

  “Ugh,” she growled. “Fine, but maybe next time I’m wearing some sexy thong or something we can swap it out.”

  She was so much fucking fun. When the hell had LJ ever had this good a time just being with another person? “It’s a deal as long as they’re as wet as these.”

  “Don’t have to worry about that,” she mumbled. “I pretty much say your name and my panties are soaked.”

  And there went his cock, waking up once again. The fucker should have been on life support, but all this talk of Holly’s arousal was all it took to have him wanting her again. “Shit, sugar, I like you.”

  She didn’t say anything else as he carried her over to the bike, then set her down. Once he’d stowed the blanket, the rest of the wine, and the cups, they climbed on the bike and started back home. The weight of Holly on his back was heavier this time, indicating her exhaustion.

  When they reached the apartment complex and he killed the engine, she didn’t so much as twitch. “You alive back there?” he asked as he removed his helmet.

  “Mmm, we back already? That was too fast.”

  “We’re back.”

  Holly climbed down from the bike, removed her helmet and hung it on the handlebar as he’d shown her earlier. Hand in hand, they walked up to the second floor. As they reached her door, LJ pressed her back against it and kissed her. He needed one last taste to get him through the night without her.

  She moaned into his mouth as her tongue played with his. “Fucking loved tonight, Holly,” he whispered against her lips. “Can’t wait for more.”

  Eyes closed, she smiled. “Me too. You coming i—”

  He kissed her again, brief this time, but hard. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  Holly blinked her eyes open. “What?” Confusion had her eyebrows drawing down. “Tomorrow?”

  God, he was a fucker. Sending her into an empty apartment after all they’d shared. After all she’d shared with him. Of course she’d be confused. She’d probably curse him all throughout the night. And she wouldn’t be alone in that. He’d be cursing himself to fucking hell and back.

  “Yeah, beautiful, tomorrow.” After dropping one last quick kiss to her forehead, he turned and slipped inside his apartment without another backward glance. If he saw the disappointment in her eyes, he’d be tempted to say fuck it and follow her into her bed.

  And that would no doubt end in disaster. So instead, he walked straight to his room, shucked his jeans, and slipped between the covers all alone.

  And when he woke three hours later on the floor, covered in a sheen of sweat and thrashing so hard, he bruised his wrist on the nightstand, he knew he’d made the right decision.

  No matter how much Holly might end up hating him at some point, at least she wouldn’t be the one with bruises.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, fifteen minutes before she was supposed to meet with her father, Holly dropped into a booth at the diner. Beneath the table, her foot bounced as though her heel had been rigged with a spring. Up above, she drummed her fingers on the gleaming tabletop.

  “I was gonna offer you some of this coffee, but I think you’re jittery enough. What gives, girl?”

  Holly looked up to find Jazz standing next to her booth, coffeepot in one hand, the other propped on her hip. She wore a denim skirt and a long-sleeved diner T-shirt. “Hey, Jazz, you serving today or am I just special?” She shot her friend a grin.

  With a laugh, Jazz slipped into the seat opposite Holly. “How about we go with a little bit of both. Shell had to run out early. Beth’s preschool called saying she had a slight fever.” She flipped over the white porcelain cup, then filled it with coffee.

  “Aww, poor kiddo.”

  “Yeah, she’s a sweetie.” Jazz set the coffee pot on the table. “So, you wanna tell me why you’re all buzzing with stressed-out energy over here?”

  Holly forced her restless arms and legs to calm. Problem was, now she noticed the rapid beating of her heart and the twist of nerves in her gut. “I’m meeting my dad here in a few minutes. First time I’ve talked to him since my date with Deputy Schwartz.”

  “Well, all my other tables are happily munching away, so how about I sit and distract you for a few minutes, so you don’t ruin your manicure before the good sheriff gets here?” With a raised brow, she stared pointedly at Holly’s hands.

  Whoops. She flattened her palms on the table, staring at the poor thumbnail she just destroyed with her teeth. “That sounds like a good plan. How about you distract me by telling me what the hell is going on with you and Screw.” She poured cream into her coffee from the small silver pitcher, then snagged a few sugar packets.

  “Ugh.” Jazz’s head whacked back against the high cushioned booth. “It’s simple, really. Screw is a man-whore. Like the biggest I’ve ever met. I consistently refuse to sleep with him, so now I’ve become his favorite challenge.”

  Holly frowned. “Is he really that bad? Seems like he’s really into you. At least from what I’ve seen.”

  “He’s not.” Jazz’s voice grew flat as she shook her head. “I’m probably the only one who’s turned him down in years. Look, I’m not blind. The guy is gorgeous. Sex in jeans. But he sleeps with anyone and everyone he encounters. Men, women, two at a time, three at a time, the man collects fucks like some people collect coins.”

  “He’s bisexual? That’s unusual in the biker community, isn’t it?” She’d always pictured bikers as bigoted brutes who had a narrow-minded view of the world.

  Jazz shrugged then snagged Holly’s coffee cup. “You mind?”

  “Go for it, sister.”

  After taking a sip, she leaned her head back against the booth again. “Not sure what he’d label himself, if anything. And I suppose some clubs are more backward and close-minded, but any I’ve been around have always been chill that way. Anyway, it’s not about who Screw sleeps with, I couldn’t give a shit about that, it’s about how many. I’m not interested in being a notch on his bedpost. There are so many marks on that thing already, it can’t be structurally sound. I’m too old to be used and discarded no matter how good I’m sure the sex would be. Or how long it’s been since I’ve gotten any. Which, by the way, is a very pathetic amount of time.”

  Holly chuckled. “I hear that, girl. It had been quite a while for me as well. You said any club you’ve been around. Have you been connected to other clubs before?”

  The light in Jazz’s eyes dimmed, and Holly immediately wanted to take the question back. She hadn’t meant to remind her friend of something painful or unpleasant.

  “Just one,” Jazz said, voice low. “Before I came here.” She cleared her throat, clearly eager for
a subject change, so Holly let her have it. “So, you said, it had been a while for you. Does that mean…” Jazz waggled her eyebrows up and down.

  Holly’s face heated and she giggled like a freakin’ schoolgirl instead of the grown woman she was supposed to be. Just as she opened her mouth to spill the beans a, “Good morning, ladies,” came from over her head.

  She glanced up into the familiar face of her father. At once, her stomach cramped, and the urge to flee the diner hit her hard. Dread was the only word she could think of to describe her thoughts about the upcoming conversation. “Hey, Dad,” she said, inwardly cursing at how timid her voice sounded. If she was going to do this, she needed to grow some lady-balls and just do it.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Sheriff,” Jazz said as she rose from the booth. “Care for some coffee?”

  With a nod, he took the seat Jazz had vacated. “Yes, please.”

  After filling the sheriff’s coffee cup, Jazz said, “I’ll give you two a few seconds to look at the menu.” Bending down, she gave Holly an awkward one-armed hug in the booth. “You got this, girl,” she whispered.

  “Thanks, Jazz.”

  With a smile, Jazz moved on to check if her other tables needed anything.

  “Friend of yours?” her father asked. He wore his uniform, looking distinguished, though tired if the dark circles under his eyes were a tell.

  “Yes, I’d say we’re quickly becoming good friends. She’s great.”

  “That’s good, honey. Glad you’re meeting people.”

  She almost laughed out loud. He’d be singing a different tune if he knew how close Jazz was to all the members of the MC. With a heavy sigh, she sipped her coffee. Scanning the menu wasn’t necessary; she already knew she wanted the cinnamon roll waffles, but that left her without anything to focus her attention on.

  Thankfully, her father seemed to need a few moments to decide what he wanted to eat. Gave her a bit of time to study him where he sat across from her. Dressed in his uniform, he made an intimidating presence. Her father was a handsome man. At fifty-two, he’d only just begun to gray. For his entire life, or at least her entire life, he’d always been a gym-goer, keeping himself in great shape for his position as a police officer was a matter of pride for him. That hadn’t changed after he promoted to detective, and now sheriff. He still had the physique of a much younger man.

  Over the years, she’d seen him in uniform countless times, but not as much since he’d been a detective. Now that he was back to wearing a uniform daily, he looked so much more official. Actually, after Joy’s funeral, she hadn’t seen him in it for more than five years. The first time he’d worn it after that dreadful day, Holly had nearly thrown up at the sight of it. The outfit brought her right back to the day she had to see her sister’s dead body.

  Holly forced down a swallow of coffee that had suddenly soured in her mouth. Now, the uniform represented a different kind of heartbreak. It was a constant visual reminder that he’d never accept LJ in her life. That she was about to hurt two people who loved her and had already been through so freaking much. She pushed away her coffee cup.

  With guilt filling her, she wasn’t positive she’d be able to stomach a bite of food.

  “Okay, I’ve decided,” he announced.

  Jazz returned, and they placed their orders. Once she was off again, and their menus were gone, there wasn’t anything to focus on but her father and her guilt.

  “Holly, I’d like to apologize for the other night.”

  Her jaw dropped and she gaped across the booth. Her father sat, staring down into his black coffee. Never in a million years had she expected an apology. Her eyes closed as she took a breath. The apology should have made her feel better. Should have been exactly what she wanted, but instead it only drove the knife deeper into her heart. He was stepping out of character for her and, she was about to gut him. “Thank you, Dad. For saying that,” she said around an arid throat.

  Hands around his mug, he glanced up. “I can admit when I’m wrong, Hols. And my reaction was wrong. Over the top. I just…” He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, pausing to scratch his chin. “I just saw that biker so close to you and I lost it. I know I’ve talked to you over the years about how dangerous these motorcycle clubs are, but, honey, you just don’t know until you see it just how downright evil they can be.”

  Holly swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “LJ’s a good guy, Dad. He’s helped me out a lot since I moved in. Never been anything but a gentleman.” A dirty-talking, sex god of a gentleman, but they could skip that part. “He’s been a good f-friend.” Saying the word in relation to LJ made her want to vomit. She could never be just friends with him. Not after last night.

  His head moved from right to left. “Honey, he’s not. You’ve always been sweet. Always seen the best in people, which is wonderful, but there’s a downside to that as well. It makes you naïve, vulnerable to being used and manipulated. It happened to your sister, and it can happen to you. Just because LJ helped you carry some boxes, doesn’t make him a good guy.”

  “Dad—” The mention of Joy had her heart clenching. But it wasn’t the same. Her sister had been a twelve-year-old, unable to make adult choices. And that was the heart of their problem right there. Her parents still saw her at that age.

  He held up a hand. “No, Holly, let me finish. That club is an outlaw club. Do you know what that means?”

  Her stomach rolled as she nodded. “Yes. I know what it means.”

  “Pretty much by definition, it means they’re criminals, honey. They are not good men. None of them. Do you understand?”

  “Sure, Dad.” There she went again, taking the easy way out instead of standing up for what she believed. What she wanted. That kind of behavior had to stop. Otherwise, she’d blink and be forty years old, stuck in a miserable marriage because she’d attached herself to someone her father chose. The last two men she’d dated, one for almost a year back in college, had been his choice. Both fizzled out long before she’d gotten the guts to end the relationships. “Look, Dad—”

  “One sec, Holly, let me finish. I think you should find a new apartment.”

  She gasped. “What? No! I love that pla—”

  That annoying hand lifted again, and she bit back a growl. Would he ever let her speak?

  “My office is ramping up our efforts to shut down the MC. The man who held this position before me was crooked as can be. I’m not sure what perks he got, money or something else, but he turned a blind eye to the illegal activities of those damn bikers for as long as he was in office. No more. My goal is to have the MC disbanded and as many of those criminals in jail as possible by the end of the year.”

  Her hands began to shake. Slipping them under her thighs squashed the tremor out of them, but it did nothing to quell the internal quiver that began with her father’s words. “D-dad,” she said.

  Be firm, Holly.

  “Dad, I’m not sure you should be telling me this.”

  His eyes narrowed, assessing her. “Why not?” When she didn’t answer right away, he slapped his palms on the table. “Why the hell not, Holly?”

  Her face flamed as she felt the eyes of every customer in the diner shift to them. A quick glance at the counter revealed Jazz looking at her with concern. But she winked and gave Holly a nod. She could do this. She had to do this. “B-because I’ve become friends with many of the women, girlfriends of the club members. They’re great people, Dad,” she rushed on to say. “Not like clubs you’ve dealt with in the past.”

  He snorted and shook his head. “God, Holly, you’re so naïve. What’s it going to take to get you to realize how dangerous these people are? Your sister’s murder clearly wasn’t enough. Do you need to lose someone else you love?”

  She gasped as pain lanced her heart. How dare he use that against her in such a callous manner? “Dad! I can’t believe you said that to me.” The words came out as a strangled whisper. Losing Joy had torn her apart. And while
it had nearly killed her parents as well, and she’d always been sympathetic to that, something about their relationship had to change. Because it wasn’t healthy.

  But he didn’t seem to be listening or paying attention to her distress. “I didn’t want to believe it when one of my deputies told me, but you were at the party the other night, weren’t you?” he asked.

  Now or never. Holly swallowed. “I was.” The words sounded hollow, much as she felt deep in her heart now that he’d speared it.

  Jazz appeared at the side of their booth, coffeepot in hand. “Your food will be out in a few. Either of you ready for a refill…” One look at the fierce scowl on the sheriff’s face had Jazz’s eyes bugging. She glanced between Holly and her father. “You know what? I’m gonna give you another minute.” As she backed away she mouthed the words, “You got this,” to Holly while giving a discreet thumbs up at her side.

  See? Good people. Genuinely good at their core.

  “Dad, I’m seeing LJ,” Holly blurted the moment Jazz stepped out of earshot. She held her breath, watching the play of emotions across her father’s face. Anger, sadness, disbelief.

  Hurt.

  She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her head high and meet the displeasure in his gaze head-on. As he waited for a response, she gripped the edge of the booth for dear life. Shame threatened to consume her, but she fought it because she couldn’t let her guilt win this time as it did every time.

  With each second that ticked by, the tension mounted until it grew to a near physical presence at the table.

  Shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe she jumped the gun. Sure, she and LJ had talked about seeing each other again, but what did that even mean? Could she call him her boyfriend? Probably not. The man seemed to freak at the thought of spending the entire night with her. She sure as hell wasn’t his ol’ lady, whatever that meant. Here she was telling her father about a relationship that barely existed.

  Why?

  Was she just clinging to the idea of LJ to assert the independence she should have claimed ages ago? Was LJ right? Was this just an act of rebellion? Her thoughts spiraled until Holly completely doubted the wisdom of every word she’d just uttered.