Guts & Glory: Ryder (In the Shadows Security Book 2)

by Jeanne St. James

  Kelsea wondered how total opposites worked. But they did. And the proof of that was ready to go knock boots in their newly decorated home.

  Maybe that’s why Ryder was currently in Chicago and Kelsea was in Shadow Valley. It turned out they were too much alike.

  She should have left it alone, but, of course, she didn’t. DAMC women were stubborn and demanding and didn’t give up until they got what they wanted. And she wanted to know the truth.

  Even though, in reality, it wasn’t any of her business. But Steel’s words had eaten at her. And she believed that if she knew what Steel had done for Ryder, knew why Ryder had “wobbled” because of her, then maybe she could finally have some closure and move on.

  Though now she knew, that hadn’t worked. But even so, she had given it a shot.

  In her pursuit of the truth, she poked and prodded Diesel until he snapped—or what Jewel would say went into his “beast mode”—and in his irritation, let it fly that Ryder had been abusing alcohol after being discharged from the Army. He had spiraled out of control, spending his days and his nights drunk, whether in bars or otherwise, getting into fights and living recklessly.

  In more words than he normally grunted, D said Ryder was an alcoholic and that she needed to leave him the fuck alone because he was not going to lose one of his crew due to her being a needy bitch. His words, not hers.

  She needed to find dick elsewhere.

  Also, his words, not hers.

  But she still didn’t know how Steel came into play. Kelsea found an “excuse” to talk to Jewel one day at the warehouse and just so happened to “accidentally” run into Steel. He ignored her, but she didn’t let that stop her. She had cornered him in the room that Jewel had dubbed “Badass Central” where they kept their computers and electronic equipment.

  He wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t give a shit. After that awkward conversation spurred by the information D had spilled, they kissed and made up.

  Okay, not really, but at least they no longer wanted to slice each other’s throats. She was grateful Steel had stepped in and helped Ryder when he needed it the most.

  Just like Ryder had done for her.

  She also now understood why Steel said the words he did that day in the parking lot, and why he didn’t want to reveal Ryder’s secret.

  It wasn’t his to tell.

  It wasn’t Diesel’s, either, but D was the kind of man who just didn’t give a fuck. If Ryder had a problem with him telling Kelsea, he could take it up with D. Again, Diesel’s words, not hers.

  Ryder wasn’t a stupid man. Most people didn’t want to take up anything with D if they didn’t have to.

  In reflecting back on all of that, she missed the part where she said goodbye to Rissa and left their house. Because somehow she ended up outside.

  Leaving her car at the curb where she had parked it earlier, she wandered past an empty lot between two houses. The ranch home two doors down was new construction of a similar style to Mercy and Rissa’s. Only it was even bigger. Like someone planned to raise a family in it. A large family.

  Kelsea went through her mental Rolodex of club members who had kids. However, all of them currently lived in the DAMC compound since their houses had already been built. Unless one of them was planning on upgrading?

  She doubted that. The lots were generous enough that anyone who currently lived there could easily expand their current home without running out of space.

  So, it had to be one of the brothers who didn’t have an ol’ lady yet. Or maybe he did and was keeping it on the DL.

  Hmm.

  Interesting.

  She went down her list of the single club members.

  Nash was a confirmed bachelor, but his house had been built already, even though it still sat empty. His band, Dirty Deeds, had hired a manager and had been touring the east coast more often now, so he’d hardly been in town.

  Crash and Rig hadn’t built anything yet and neither were in a rush to do so.

  And seriously... Why would Crash or Rig want someone to decorate their house if they did build one? They’d make a table out of truck rims and plywood. A pickup bench seat would be a couch. Either would be happy with a mattress on the floor, this way when they were trashed and rolled out of bed, they wouldn’t have far to go to hit the ground.

  Moose, Coop, Rooster, and Jester weren’t moving out of their free rooms above church any time soon since they had access to free booze, food and pussy twenty-four-seven. And the prospects... Well, they were advised to go live with their mommies until they were patched in. “If they’re gonna suck on anyone’s tit for free, it should be their mommies an’ not the club’s until they prove themselves,” said Zak. And since he was the prez, anything he said went.

  Which brought her back to the house she now stood in front of, and a Harley she didn’t recognize parked in the driveway.

  The sled was badass and appeared to be a Jag Jamison custom. Just looking at it made Kelsea a little wet, proving that shit was in her blood and always would be.

  She walked up to the bike, searching for any identifying info. Nothing. It was just fucking hot and she wouldn’t mind planting her ass on the back of that for a four-hour run.

  She glanced up at the house. But whoever built this place most likely already had an ol’ lady, and she wasn’t going to stir up trouble.

  She was the “new and improved” Kelsea.

  Right.

  With a sigh, she approached the front double doors, admiring the narrow, etched glass windows that framed both sides. Very pretty. Something she would pick if she was building her own house. Which was the plan once she got enough money saved to do so.

  Which was most likely no time soon. Her bank account was still pretty anemic.

  But the truth was, she was okay with that. She was fine in the apartment over the pawn shop for now. She didn’t need a big house or even a little one just for her. But it did give her a goal. And Rissa had said that having goals and working toward them could help keep her focused and on the right track.

  The “new and improved” Kelsea.

  She rolled her eyes and jabbed the doorbell. She pressed it again, listening to make sure it was even hooked up. It was, but she heard nothing.

  Wait. No. She heard something. But not footsteps.

  After waiting a few minutes, she muttered, “Fuck this shit,” and tried the handle, finding it unlocked. She swung the door open and popped her head inside. “Hello? Anybody here?”

  Her question echoed through the empty foyer. From what she could see, the house was completely void of furniture and still had evidence of recent construction on the floors and walls. Which meant a total clean slate for her to work with. Which also made her giddy for this project.

  Who would have thought interior design would be her calling?

  If it wasn’t for Brooke, she never would have discovered that.

  She hated the man who sired her and her sister. But Pierce was the reason Brooke came to Shadow Valley. Pierce was the reason she now had a sister in her life.

  They had made treasure out of one man’s trash.

  She stepped into the foyer and froze because whatever sound she had heard muffled through the doors began again.

  And the acoustics in that empty house were fucking amazing.

  Ryder took a deep breath and began again. His heart was thumping wildly because some of the words he was about to sing had meaning. Real meaning. Words he wasn’t sure he’d ever utter to anyone.

  Especially not to someone who had been a pain in his ass for so long.

  One he had wanted to strangle.

  But in the last three months, he’d done a lot of soul searching. And before he made any major decision, he’d also made sure he was standing on solid ground.

  Not a wobble, not even a shake.

  And he had to admit to himself why, when he dragged Kelsea off that mattress in West Virginia, he took her to the only place he himself found peace.

  H
is sanctuary.

  A place he never took any woman before.

  And now, he’d never bring another woman there again.

  Only one.

  If she’d have him.

  She wasn’t the kind of woman who needed mushy shit. And he wasn’t the kind of man who would give it to her anyway.

  But what he could give her was solid and true.

  And the words he needed to express to her came from someone better equipped to say them than him.

  So, he started at the top and began to sing John Legend’s All of Me, which first asks what he would do without Kelsea’s smart mouth.

  Way too fucking fitting.

  And he hoped she didn’t knee him in the balls when he sang the part about how she was crazy, but so was he, because he loved her.

  Fucking crazy but it was true.

  He loved her curves. Her edges. Every imperfection.

  And he was willing to risk it all. For her.

  He was ready to give all that he had. To her.

  He was willing to walk up those steps in the middle of the day when the sun was bright, and the parking lot was full.

  She had proven to herself how strong she was when she put her mind to something.

  Keeping sober. Excelling in her job. Working harder than ever to sock away any extra money she had so she could buy her own place.

  Someplace she could call home. Something that would belong to her.

  And when the world threatened to come tumbling down around her, he wanted to be there. To steady her. To encourage her to continue. To clear away the rubble.

  He also wanted her to be there for him. To remind him why he fought so hard to become sober and stay that way.

  They needed to remind each other why life could be good.

  Not just good. Fucking great.

  When he finished the song, he turned around to see if she had stayed or left.

  Muscles that had been tense released, and as he took her in, standing there in the doorway, he was blown away by how beautiful she truly was.

  “You could’ve told me,” she whispered.

  He knew she had talked to Steel. And Diesel. She was now aware of some of his past. Not everything, but the part that might affect her.

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. It was a time in my life where I let weakness rule it. I wasn’t one of those good drunks who cracked jokes and was everyone’s buddy. I was a bad one. I drank until I blacked out. I got into fights. Because the truth was—and it took me too long to figure it out—I wanted to die. I figured if alcohol couldn’t rid me of some of my nightmares, then death would.”

  Surprise filled her blue eyes. “Like me.”

  “Like you.” He blew out a breath and turned to face her. “So, I understood what you were doing. I understood what you were going through. I just didn’t know the reason why.”

  “And what were your reasons?”

  “Shit I can’t talk about even to this day. Mostly because I’m not allowed to. And even if I was, I wouldn’t want to give you those nightmares. They’re things best left forgotten and buried.”

  “Like Pierce.”

  “In some fucked up way, some good came out of all of his evil. You. Brooke. Your new career. You and me.”

  She tilted her head, the blonde hair he wanted to run his fingers through falling over her shoulder. “Is that called looking on the bright side of things?”

  “Yeah, darlin’, it is.” They were quiet for a moment as they took each other in. Fuck, he missed her. And standing so far away from her right now made his chest ache. “Did you listen to the words of that song?”

  “Oh, was that song for me?” she teased, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Lips he wanted to kiss, suck and bite.

  He made a show of glancing around the room. “See any other pain in the ass in this room with us?”

  Her smile grew as she shrugged. “No, just me.” As she moved closer, the ache in his chest became more intense. But she didn’t stop until they stood toe to toe and she was forced to tilt her head back slightly to meet his eyes.

  Again, he was blown away by her natural beauty. Especially now that the memories that had haunted her no longer clouded her eyes or made her appear troubled.

  “You’re not worried I’ll pull you down?”

  She asked a good question. A valid question. One he had thought long and hard about once he considered their future together.

  He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over it. “Honestly, darlin’, I’m afraid I’ll fall without you.”

  He could see her confidence waver. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

  “Pressure I’m confident you can handle.” Because he was.

  “You could’ve told me,” she whispered again. Only she was no longer talking about his alcoholism.

  “I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready.”

  She tilted her head slightly and asked, “But you’re ready now?”

  “Only way you’re gonna find out is if you put that quarter in the slot and take a chance.”

  She patted her pant’s pockets and then pouted. “I don’t have a quarter.”

  “I might be willin’ to barter.”

  He ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

  “With a kiss?” Her breath tickled his fingers.

  “No... Well, yeah. But no, that’s not what I was thinkin’ of but I’m not gonna turn a kiss down.”

  “Can I hear it in your own words instead of Legend’s?”

  He raised his brows. “I’m not a legend?”

  “Maybe in your own mind.”

  He laughed and slapped a hand over his heart. “Damn, darlin’, that hurt.” He sobered and leaned forward, capturing her face in his hands. He waited until his lips were almost touching hers before saying, “You really need to hear it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back, her warm breath now meshing with his.

  “You sure?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Do you feel the same way?”

  “Only way you’re gonna find out is if you put that quarter in the slot and take a chance,” she echoed, dropping her tone an octave.

  She was such a fucking smart ass, but he wouldn’t have her any other way. It was part of who she was.

  His lips curled slightly before he dropped them for a brief kiss. He forced himself to keep from deepening it. Then gave up and did so anyway, finding her tongue with his and tasting every corner of her mouth.

  He dropped one hand to wrap it around the front of her throat and when she groaned, he felt the vibration against his palm.

  She pressed a hand against his chest and pushed just enough to break the kiss. “I’ve missed kissing you,” she whispered.

  “Then why’d you stop me?”

  “Because it’s hard for you to say anything when your lips are busy.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Anything that you mean.”

  “Like how much I love you?’

  She grinned. “That’s a start.”

  He waited.

  And waited as she just stared back up at him.

  He shifted his feet. “Darlin’,” he began.

  “Yeah?” She pinned her lips together and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “You forgettin’ somethin’?”

  She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes to the ceiling as if she was in deep thought. “Nothing I can think of.”

  “You sure?”

  She placed a finger to her lips and again thought hard. “I’m preeeeetty sure,” she smiled big, “that I love you, too.”

  Thank fuck.

  Her smile dropped and her eyes got serious. “I’ve had no one since you. And I want no one else but you, Dwight. You’re in my dreams every night, you’re in my thoughts every day. And that short time we spent in Kentucky has given me some good memories to replace some of the bad ones.”

  “Good memories,” he arched a brow, “of eating whistle pig s
andwiches.”

  “Yes, that and more. Like... oh, I don’t know... a few spankings I admit I deserved, but still enjoyed.”

  “Liked that, huh?” he teased.

  “Is there any doubt?”

  “There might be. Guess I’ll have to take you over my knee and make sure.”

  Her nipples pebbled hard enough that he could see them through the silky blue blouse she wore. A blouse and dress pants a professional woman would wear. One who had her shit together.

  He was so fucking proud of her.

  But he’d take her however he could get her. Wearing a business suit. Or wearing a leather DAMC cut, holey jeans and scuffed biker boots.

  And most of all, wearing nothing.

  Both of them needed to be naked soon. But since the house was empty of any furniture and the kitchen counters hadn’t been selected yet, the only option they had was the floor or a wall.

  And after they just declared what they did, he preferred to take his time and appreciate everything about her in a bed, where he could do everything he wanted to do to her.

  And maybe she would even reciprocate.

  He grinned, then adjusted his dick which was giving its approval with that plan.

  Kelsea’s thoughts must have run along the same lines, since she asked, “I assume you didn’t break into this house simply to lure me here and it’s yours?”

  He took a deep breath, then said, “No, darlin’, it’s yours.”

  Her smile slipped and she blinked. At first, he thought she just blinked in surprise. Until she blinked quickly again. For fuck’s sake, if she started crying, he was done for. He watched her face as she struggled to keep her shit together. She bit her bottom lip, then her throat undulated as she swallowed hard.

  She even did a little sniffle.

  His nostrils flared and he pinned his lips together.

  She needed to say something.

  Anything.

  She loved it. She hated it. She was surprised. She was disappointed.

  Something, damn it.

  “Does my house have a bed?”

  His lips twitched. Well, that response seemed about right for her. “Not yet.”

  “I know a place that not only has a bed, but a mirror above it. The only problem is, you’d have to walk up a set of stairs in the middle of the day, in the middle of a busy parking lot.”