by Renee Rose
“You are the nicest kindergarten teacher ever.” Tabitha salutes me with her strawberry margarita. “And that’s saying something. That bar is high.”
“To Sweet Sadie,” Charlie raises her Fat Tire in toast.
“Sadie,” Tabitha and Adele join in, raising their glasses.
I flush and sip my mango margarita with them. My friends are the best thing in my life right now. I love them like sisters, even though we couldn’t be more different.
“You didn’t want a margarita?” Tabitha asks Adele.
“No,” Adele sniffs and swirls her red wine in the glass.
“They’re really good,” Tabitha singsongs and flips her long, straight red hair over her shoulder.
“No thank you.” Adele tips the glass, closing her eyes and swirling her wine to inhale the bouquet.
“Snob,” Tabitha mocks gently.
“Leave her alone.” Charlie’s voice is a little loud, but it’s not the alcohol talking. Charlie just likes to be loud. She balances her chair on its back two legs for a second then lets it fall to all fours with a thud. “Someone should be drinking wine,” she pronounces. “It is Wine Wednesday.”
“You mean Whine Wednesday,” Tabitha corrects. “We agreed when we started this tradition we don’t actually have to drink wine, we just have to whine. So who’s going first?”
“Sadie.” Adele’s green eyes pierce me over her wine glass. She sees everything, and she’s our unofficial mother hen.
“Sadie? Everything all right?” Tabitha asks.
“Who do I have to kill?” Charlie adds and plants her elbows on the table. “Is it Scott? I will fuck him up.” She means it too.
“Everything’s fine.” I sigh and set down my margarita.
“Nope, come on, spill.” Tabitha waves her fingers in a come hither motion. “What’s Scott up to now?”
“Are you guys back together?” Charlie’s brow furrows. “I thought after... The Incident…”
“The Incident? Is that what we’re calling cheating now?” Tabitha runs her finger around the rim of her margarita, collecting the salt.
“We’re still broken up,” I say. “But he wants me back. He just texted again, asking if we could meet tonight.”
“Seriously? He cheated on you!” Both Charlie and Tabitha explode.
“Shhh.” Adele lifts a hand. “Calm down, Sadie’s talking.”
“Thanks.” I give her a small smile. “We’re not getting back together. I told him no, but he’s being really persistent.” I glance down at my phone in my bag. I turned it off after that last text to get some peace. At any given moment, I could have several missed calls and unread texts from Scott.
“Persistent how?” Tabitha asks, her eyes narrowed.
“Texts, phone calls,” I tell my friends. “Gifts. He sent flowers, chocolates.”
“Did he get the chocolates from The Chocolatier?” Charlie asks Adele.
Adele shakes her head, still looking at me. “No. He knows if he comes into my store, I’ll roast him alive.” She says it delicately, but I have no doubt in a run-in between Scott and Adele, Adele would win.
“Okay, so Scott brought you subpar chocolate,” Tabitha says, emphasizing subpar as if this is the most egregious sin. And in our group, it is egregious. “Then what?”
“He just won’t stop reaching out. The other day, he and my dad were outside the school. Scott said it was for a development meeting, but I think he planned it right when I would take my kids out for recess.”
“Gross,” Charlie says.
“That is just like Scott. So shady. Why doesn’t your dad see it?” Tabitha fretts.
“Because Sadie’s dad is the same,” Adele says firmly. “Birds of a feather.” She looks me right in the eye and raises a slim brown brow.
I keep silent because she’s right. My dad loves Scott and his development ideas way more than I ever did. He has our marriage all planned, so then, the two of them can take over all the real estate in the area. Adele is right. Scott is a carbon copy of my dad.
“You’re going to resist, right?” Tabitha bites her lip. “You won’t take him back?”
“No.” I have no intention of letting Scott in ever again. “But he won’t stop. You know he won’t just take no for an answer.”
“Gross,” Charlie says again and drains her beer. The rest of us finish our drinks too, and when the waitress comes by, we all order another with our food.
“Can we help?” Tabitha asks once the waitress is gone. “Maybe we can talk to him.”
“No, don't do that. Knowing Scott, it’ll make things worse. He’s just used to getting what he wants.”
“You can’t trust these real estate developer types,” Charlie says around a mouthful of tortilla chips. “So pushy. They make deals all day and then come home and think that’s the only way to relate to another person.”
Tabitha agrees, and she and Charlie launch into one of the Taoseños’ favorite topics: the evil real estate developer.
“I’m sorry, Sadie,” Adele says quietly to me.
“It’s okay. Let’s talk about something else. I don't want my crappy relationship stuff to ruin our night out.”
Adele squeezes my hand but doesn’t say anything
Fortunately, I’m saved by the roar of motorcycles across the plaza. Four big bikes manned by giant bikers roll up to the plaza and stop in an alleyway next to the pedestrian only area.
“Oh jeez,” Tabitha groans. “More Easy Rider fans recreating their journey through the Southwest.” Ever since the iconic sixties film, bikers have made Taos part of their pilgrimage. That’s in addition to the huge annual biker rally up in Red River over Memorial Day that brings over 20,000 bikers to the area.
Something about these guys is different, though. They don’t look like Easy Rider hippie types. Nor do they have the long beards or hair that goes with some biker gangs. These guys are huge and fit. Broad shoulders and barrel chests. Thick, muscled thighs.
Oh God, am I looking at their thighs?
We fall silent as they dismount and file past the restaurant window. They are covered in leather and tattoos, like you’d expect, and all of them wear aviator shades.
“Damn,” Tabitha murmurs, slouching lower in her chair.
“Yikes. I’ll bet if you brush up against one of those guys, you’ll get testosterone poisoning,” Charlie sniffs. The four bikers pause right in front of the restaurant patio. They stand in a badass cluster, talking.
One of them isn’t wearing a leather jacket, just a black leather vest that leaves his arms bare. When he pulls off his aviator shades, his biceps bulge, practically as big as a basketball. The tattoo on his arm—a black wolf under a full moon—ripples, and the muscles in my lower belly clench, hard.
The biker who just removed his sunglasses swivels his head slowly in our direction. He’s got dark hair buzzed into a crew cut, leaving nothing to mar the masculine lines of his face. Wowza. His coffee-dark eyes flash weirdly in the dusky light. A jolt runs through my limbs. He’s looking straight at me.
My hand, of its own volition, rises into the air.
“Sadie!” Tabitha whisper-shouts. “What are you doing?”
I honestly don’t know. I can’t seem to look away from the guy, who is about as much my type as the lamppost behind him. Still, I give a little wave. The biker jerks up his chin in salute. A shock of electricity runs through me, tip to toe, like I've been struck by a mini bolt of lightning. The man’s perfect lips twitch into the hint of a smirk, and he turns back to his buddies.
The biker guys finish their conversation and stride away. Their heavy boots make no sound on the stones, but the air of the square seems to crackle. The dark haired biker looks back, right at me, and winks. Another zap, and my heart trips over itself.
“Wait… did that guy just wink at you?” Adele exclaims.
I laugh. “Yes, I believe he did.”
“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Tabitha groans.
“Those guys are sca
ry,” Charlie jerks her thumb over her shoulder.
“I don’t know,” I muse. “I thought he was kinda hot.” Scott was tall and handsome, and prided himself on his gym made muscles. But stand Scott next to that dark haired biker, and my ex would look like a bobble head toy.
My friends’ mouths drop at my admission, and then we all dissolve into girlish laughter.
I look out the window to see where they went.
“Who are those motorcycle guys?” Tabitha asks the waitress when she comes with our food.
The woman shrugs. “I see them around here from time to time. Sometimes on their bikes, sometimes in one of those army looking trucks.”
“Seriously? A Humvee?” Charlie’s eyebrows climb. She knows cars.
“Is a Humvee like a Hummer?” Tabitha asks.
“No, it’s a military vehicle,” Charlie answers. “Not all of them are road legal. Are those guys former military?”
“I don't ask, honey,” the waitress says. “I keep my mouth shut and look my fill.”
“See,” I point out. “She thinks they’re hot, too.”
“I didn’t say they weren’t hot,” Tabitha mumbles, taking a drink of water.
“Do they ever eat here?” Adele asks. Her water glass is half full, and she’s still clutching it.
“No, they don’t stick around long. When they’re not on their bikes, they load up on supplies and head out,” the waitress says.
Charlie taps her lips. “I thought they looked more military than biker gang. The way they stood, you know? Shoulders back and chests up. And their buzzcuts.”
“I was just looking at the one with the wolf and moon tattoo,” I confess.
“They all had wolf and moon tattoos,” Adele says.
“Really?” Tabitha squints at Adele.
“Yes.” Adele doesn’t say anything further.
“Can you imagine Sadie showing up with a guy like that as her new boyfriend? Scott would shit a brick,” Charlie says.
“So would her dad,” Tabitha agrees.
Adele chokes on her laugh. “Oh god, that would be hilarious. Can you imagine the look on Scott’s face?”
It’s my turn to grab my water and drink deeply. I can just imagine Scott’s face if he saw me next to a biker man like that. He’d throw a fit. But I don't want to think about Scott. What would it be like to date a guy like the biker? Would he be great in bed? Assuming he’d look twice at me. That kind of guy, those muscles, bare and sleek spread out on my comforter…
A flush spreads over my face. I clutch my empty water glass. There’s not enough water in the world to quench this desire.
“I was just kidding,” Charlie says with an alarmed look my way. Like she’s guessed at my thoughts. How far I’ve run down the road of trying on that giant man as a partner. “I was totally kidding. Those guys definitely aren’t safe.”
“If they’re military, they’re probably a lot safer than a biker gang,” I reason.
Charlie shakes her head. “Even if they are, they’re trouble. I would never date a military guy. They are man-whores and adrenaline junkies. Definitely not boyfriend material. Especially not for you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand.
“No, nothing. Just that you’re sweet, Sadie. I only suggested it to be funny. I figured you’d never, ever date a guy who looked like them.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Well, you never know.”
My friends all give me sharp glances, and I wink to make them laugh again, but something rebellious and bold has taken root inside me.
I sort of love the idea of shocking every resident in this small town who thinks they know me by hanging around a big, bad biker.
But Charlie’s right. That’s just nuts.
Deke
There’s a sweet scent wafting across the town plaza. It’s driving my wolf crazy. I keep raising my head and sniffing the air.
“Cut it out,” Lance mutters to me, and a growl rumbles in my chest. My blond packmate is standing too close. Fucker’s doing it on purpose. He knows my wolf needs space.
“Leave him alone,” Channing defends me to Lance. “It’s almost a full moon. That makes him crazy.”
“This is Deke we’re talking about,” Lance retorts. “He’s always crazy.”
I narrow my eyes at him, my growl intensifying. Lance side steps quickly, dancing out of the way. I’ve been known to up and punch my packmates for less provocation.
“No fighting.” Rafe, our Alpha, emerges from the alley shadows. “Not in front of civilians.” By civilians he means humans. Rafe glowers extra long at Lance. The two are brothers, but Rafe never plays favorites. If anything, he’s harder on Lance than us.
“Business done?” Lance asks, running a hand through his surfer blond hair. Fucking pretty boy preens like he’s in a boy band.
“Yep, let’s move out,” Rafe orders.
The other guys immediately follow our alpha. But I resist, scuffing my boots on the plaza stones. That scent calls to me. Candy sweet. My mouth waters.
Rafe doesn’t miss my reluctance. “Deke? You coming?”
“I don’t know.” I rub my chin. “I think I might stay a while.” Even as I say it, I know it’s lame. I’m the last of my pack who’d want to stick around a public plaza crawling with humans. Things are better for me now that I’m out of the service. We have our own place and can run free in the mountains every night. It keeps my wolf manageable. But I’m still the guy who gets edgy around too many people.
“For what? There’s no band tonight.” Channing smirks and points to an old concert flyer. “And I didn’t know you liked Jimmy Buffett.”
I flip him the bird.
“Deke,” Rafe says, a hint of growl in his voice.
“What?” Out of respect for my alpha, I tuck my middle finger away. “I just want to stay out a little longer. Enjoy the night air.”
There’s a long pause while my pack stares at me like I announced I wanted to put on a pretty pink tutu and dance a pas de deux.
“I could stay,” Lance offers.
“I don't need a babysitter.” Enough of this fucker. I bare my teeth. In answer, Lance’s wolf makes its presence known, eyes flashing blue. My wolf surges to the fore, a second away from snapping its chain.
“Fine.” Rafe steps between me and his brother, inserting himself physically. Ever the peacemaker, until we piss him off too far. Then he kicks our asses. Not a perfect system, but it works. “Deke, you do what you want. The rest of us are heading back.” He jerks his head, and Channing and Lance march to the bikes. Rafe hangs back.
“You sure about this?” he mutters to me. My alpha’s the only one who has the right to ask this question, and it still makes me bristle. I don’t have the best track record around humans. I’m not charming, like Lance. I get downright surly, and if provoked… well, let’s just say trouble is guaranteed
Rafe knows this, and he keeps a closer eye on me. If he were a lesser wolf, my wolf would challenge him and rip him to shreds.
Most of the time, I’m glad Rafe is a better fighter than me. If I ever lost control or went too far, he’d be there to put me down.
But tonight, I want to be left alone. “I’m good,” I say and stretch my lips in a semblance of a smile. This is my happy face, and I know it leaves a lot to be desired. I’ve been told skeletons are less creepy.
Sure enough, Rafe shakes his head. “Don’t show that to civilians. You’ll scare them,” he orders, but then he slaps my arm in universal bro code for “Take care,” and leaves me, heading in the direction of the bikes.
A sigh heaves outta me when my pack rides away. Normally, I’d be glad to get away from this town and all these people. Happy to be on the motorcycle. There’s nothing like a long ride on the mountain roads, the wind rushing over me and chilling my arms, nothing between me and the night sky. But tonight, I’ve got more important things to do than ride.
I lift my head to the moon and drink in the candy sweetness. I’m gonna
find the owner of this sweet scent before my wolf goes crazy—crazier than he already is.
Sadie
I’m quiet for the rest of Whine Wednesday. I leave the whining to my friends, and, a little after sunset, I bow out early.
“School night,” I tell the ladies as I say my goodbyes.
As I cross the plaza, I turn on my phone. It buzzes with all the missed texts and calls. Two voicemails from Scott. One from my dad. I don’t know which message I dread more.
At least the night is pretty. The sun has sunk below the horizon, leaving a haze of twilight blue. I thought about leaving Taos, running away like my mom did. But I don't want to leave my hometown. Besides, I’m more like my father than I care to admit. Stubborn. I might be quiet and sweet, but I don’t like to lose.
A few more text messages pop up on my screen. From Scott, Where are you? And then, I know it’s Wine Wednesday. He spelled it wrong, even though I’ve told him about the pun repeatedly. A simple detail, and he can’t bother—or doesn’t care. It makes me grit my teeth. It wouldn’t bother me, but Scott always looked down on my friends. They were polite enough to him in support of me, but I wish I had let Adele tear him a new one.
I start to order a rideshare home—I don’t drive my car into town on Wednesdays since I know I’ll be drinking—but before I can confirm, a text from Scott comes through that makes a chill run down my body. I see you’re at Lizanos. I’m here in the plaza, by the Rideshare pick up spot. Let’s talk.
Oh no. I hustle forward, but I’m too late. I see the blue sign and sure enough, there he is—a tall, lanky man in black slacks and a sleek athleisure wear jacket. Scott. He’s got his bluetooth headset on, and by the way he’s gesturing, I can tell he’s talking to someone on the phone. Probably making a deal to raze a hundred year old adobe church and put in a bunch of condos and a strip mall.
I halt and step behind a small hut that’s a permanent market stall. I could go back to my friends and ask for an escort to the rideshare area, but with several drinks in them, at least one of them will insist on confronting Scott. And the other two will join in, and it’ll be a scene.