Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 4

by MariaLisa deMora

  Fifteen minutes later, Hoss lifted a hand and she straightened in her seat, watching closely for whatever he was about to signal. His blinker came on and he pointed towards a small parking area ahead. She slowed, carefully riding single file onto the packed gravel of the lot. Once stopped, she watched him back his bike into half of a parking spot, then he motioned for her to do the same.

  She pulled past the space, as he had done, then she twisted her head and body around, trying to push the bike backwards with her feet. Suddenly self-conscious of the bikes waiting on her, Cassie tried to rush. The sole of one boot skittered free, no grip in the gravel and she struggled to right the bike, holding it between her thighs as it threatened to topple over. Then her hand slipped on the throttle and the engine revved loudly. When she jerked in response, the engine suddenly cut off and she sat there for a moment, stunned. Glancing around, she saw the other men had already parked and she swallowed her embarrassment, pushed her bike backwards, and blew out a relieved breath when she finally glided to a slow stop next to Hoss’ bike.

  Kickstand. She heeled it down and then tipped the bike over, making sure it was stable before she let go of the handlebars.

  “Jesus, gal, you got a mouth on you,” Mojo muttered, walking to stand beside her front wheel. She glanced up at him and then back down. He cleared his throat, then in a lowered voice said, “Bike can sometimes be easier to back up after you kill it, when you don’t have the engine torqueing around under you. Don’t forget you hit the kill switch, though. That’s embarrassing when you go to start the bike and it just nnnnns and nnnnns.” He made whining noises, and she glanced up at him again. “Kill switch,” he repeated quietly, pointing to the lever beside her thumb and she realized why her bike had died. He thinks I did it on purpose.

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks,” she responded softly, and even without her eyes on his face, she could tell he was grinning just from the light feel of the air.

  “Nnnnn.” He made the noise again and reached out, his thumb pressed against the starter button. She jolted when her bike made the same noise, then looked up at him and grinned, startled at how his face changed when his expression grew soft. “There you go, gal,” he said gently, and she nodded, a sudden lump in her throat. It felt almost like the beginning of a panic attack, but was just different enough that it caught at her attention and she tried to dissect it, define it. “Definite mouth on ya, though,” he muttered again as he turned away, pulling a bottle of water out of his saddlebag and throwing it to her. “Not so prissy as I thought.”

  Reflexively catching the bottle, she glanced around to find Tug grinning at her, as was Tequila. Twisting the other direction, she noted Hoss had a broad smile on his face, too. “What?” she asked him, and if anything, his smile grew wider.

  “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Crap, fucking shit. God fucking shit.” His tone was pitched high, falsetto, and the cadence wasn’t like his normal accent. She frowned at him, not understanding why he was cursing at her.

  “What did I do wrong?”

  “Well first, you got distracted. Way too deep in your head when you gotta be present when you’re riding. Hazards and risks can come at you from all sides. You need to not allow yourself to be one of those dangers. But, you did good, gal, read the wrong and fixed it right. Tucking into that corner deeper, pulling yourself back off that rabbit line.” Hoss’ gaze kept moving, dancing, glancing between her eyes and mouth, back to her eyes to make sure she heard him. She nodded. “But your mouth? I was twenty feet ahead of you, and I heard you. Hell, the people on that pontoon boat a quarter mile out probably heard you, too. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Crap. Fucking shit. God fucking shit.” He grinned and chuckled.

  “Then here on the lot, you let the bikes behind you pressure you into moving before you were balanced. Gotta be sure of yourself or you’ll fuck up, every time. You nearly laid it down, and that really would have been embarrassing, yeah?” He paused, and she nodded, because he was right on every point. “Then you got flustered, flailing around and shit. And again with the mouth. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Crap. Fucking shit. Jesus fucking shit.” He grinned, then said, “I agree with Mojo. You got a mouth.”

  She was suddenly sure she knew what he was saying, and her chin dropped. Her face was burning hot and she knew red had raced up her cheeks.

  “Ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Cassie. It’s kinda cute, hearing that come out of your pretty mouth.” Hoss’ voice had dropped past a whisper; these words were for her alone. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat from his skin. He moved to cover her hand, threading his fingers with hers before he squeezed and lifted her knuckles to brush softly against his lips. “Makes me wonder what else you do that would surprise me.”

  ***

  Hoss

  Rolling back into town, he knew she had to be tired, could see exhaustion lining her face, but damned if she wasn’t determined to ride well. He suspected part was she wanted Tug to stay proud of her, but hoped some of it was for him. They’d had a good chat by the lake, his brothers giving them some space, the three men taking off and walking along the lakeshore while he and Cassie sat on a picnic table near the bikes. They had laughed and joked about nothing in particular, his arm propped around her back some of the time. Not holding her, not quite, just elbow locked with his palm on the table. From the close distance, he’d soaked up the heat from her body and found himself wanting more. He had given himself permission to hold her hand a portion of the time, fingers twined with hers. Watching her expressive features as she giggled through one of his stories, he’d found himself musing more than once about how good a kiss from her might be.

  Good times in the middle of a good day, one that should go a long way to shoring up Cassie’s confidence in her abilities to ride, he hoped. The frozen, fearful woman from the diner earlier was absolutely gone, and in her place had flowed a welcome, quick-witted personality. Full of questions and comments, opinions on anything, this Cassie had an easy way of communicating that let you know even when she didn’t agree with you on something, she respected your position.

  Their idyllic time ended with Tug’s head nodding towards the west in recognition to the sun dipping towards the horizon. It had been time to go. Back on the bikes, out of the park and onto the roads, he’d led them home.

  First Tequila peeled off, after rolling up to catch her attention, and then he’d given her a wave that she returned. A couple miles later Mojo had done the same, giving her a wink in addition to the wave and she’d wrinkled her nose at him, the goggles turning it into an endearing expression that Hoss froze in his mind without even thinking about it, knowing he’d see it again on a canvas.

  All day she had given him ideas for new studies, bold sketches he would be working on as soon as he had graphite in hand. Snapshots of brilliance and beauty to be stored and used as inspiration. His world was colored magnificently today, and he was thrilled it came from her.

  He didn’t recognize her house from the back, had only vaguely remembered the neighborhood and was hoping to take his cues from her or Tug. He got a clue when Tug whistled and pointed to a drive he had just passed, and he twisted to see Cassie pulling into it. Eyeballing her yard, he decided it was firm enough, so he rolled the curb slowly and then pulled through her grass, winding up in her driveway facing out before he dismounted.

  She had paused on the cement apron in front of the garage, the door slowly opening and then she rode in, killing the engine while still facing the back. One efficient three-point turn later, the bike was pointed out and kickstand down. She stood up and off the bike in a smooth movement, already removing her helmet. Looking completely in her element, this had to be where she’d spent a lot of time practicing because confidence rolled off her, making her even more attractive.

  As she had at the gas station, she went directly to Tug and he stood waiting with arms out. That pose rankled Hoss and he frowned for a moment, only able to let go of something that felt suspiciously like jealousy when he heard her murmured gratitude
to the old man. “Thank you so much, Tugboat. You’ve helped open up my world.”

  Ducking his head, he gave them a moment of privacy as Tug responded, “Naw, gal. You did all that to yourself. It’s all inside you, like I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s inside you, that courage. You keep finding ways to let it out like you did today, it’s going to cover you all the time. Holding you up, you holdin’ on. You give yourself ways to surface that shit, and it’s going to become second nature.”

  Hoss heard her footsteps approaching but didn’t look up, studying the tips of his boots silently. I’ve never had to be that brave all the time. Every breath she takes is hard, but she powers past. Her boots came into view, and he glanced up, surprised to see her that close. Her hands were held slightly away from her body, not quite extended, but he couldn’t mistake the way she leaned towards him. Her expression held a smattering of doubt and fear, but threaded through there was a shining trust.

  Hoss pulled in a breath, his chest suddenly too tight for comfort and he blinked, Hope’s beautiful, beaming face flashing in front of him for a moment. He heard Deke’s words again, “Sweet worth working for, it smiles at you like that. Want that for you so fucking bad, brother. Do anything to give it to you.” Slowly, he lifted his arms, and she folded into them, nestling against his chest as if she belonged there.

  “Thank you, Hoss. If it weren’t for you, I would never have known what this feels like.” As his had been earlier today, her whisper was just for him, and he gave her a gentle squeeze, pulling her close. Twisting his neck, he laid his cheek on top of her head, breathing in her scent. Intoxicating. Then her face was at his neck, mouth brushing innocently against his jaw and Hoss sucked in a shocked breath because even just that was so good. She shifted and rested her cheek on his shoulder, subsiding into him again with a squeeze of her arms around his waist. “Thank you.”

  They stood for several moments, him holding her and her letting herself be held. Tug called softly, “I’m out. See you tomorrow.” Not sure which of them he was talking to, Hoss flipped a hand at him at the same time Cassie did, and the old man’s laugh was drowned by the ringing pipes of his bike.

  “I should follow him, make sure he gets home.” Hoss gave her a squeeze, then stepped back until his arms were loosely holding her waist, looking down at her upturned face. “I’m gonna wanna see you again.” He didn’t care how much bald need was exposed by his statement. “I’ll treasure what you’ve given me today, but I want more, Cassie.” He shifted his hold to her arms, letting his hands slide down until they held hers. “You with me?”

  Her fingers wrapped around his and tightened as she nodded. “I’m with you.”

  Hoss took a step backwards and told her, “Get on inside. Hot shower, honey. Soak a bit or you’ll be sore tomorrow.” She grinned and dropped her gaze. Nose wrinkled in that cute way she had, Cassie muttered something too softly for him to hear. “What? I didn’t catch that.”

  “You’re bossy.”

  Hoss shook his head and laughed. “Inside. Shower.” If I don’t leave now, I won’t. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Poised in the doorway, she turned to look at him. Hoss stopped next to his bike, staring back at her.

  “Yeah, tomorrow.” Surprise and pleasure flashed across her expression, and he grinned. “Night, baby.”

  Her face softened and her voice was quietly pleased when she repeated, “Night.”

  Check yes or no

  Tugboat was perched on a stool behind the counter at the garage when Hoss walked in the next morning. “Took you long enough, Prez.”

  Hoss aimed a scowl at his direction that the old man returned. Then he walked to the coffee machine and filled two mugs. Setting one in front of Tugboat, he cradled the other in a hand as he scrubbed his other palm across his face.

  “Late night?” Deke’s question came from behind him, and Hoss saw Tug’s grin from the corner of his eye as he turned to face his friend.

  “Not too. Worked once I got home.” Hoss shrugged and lifted his mug for a sip. “Lost track of time in the studio.”

  “Damn, was kinda hopin’ you hadn’t gotten home.” Deke poured his own cup of coffee and joined Tug on the other side of the counter. “How’d you meet Cassie?”

  “My piece of the story is pretty short, so we’ll get it out of the way.” Hoss eyed the two men, noting their eager expressions. “She was at a recent show. Tamara seemed to know her so I asked some questions.” He sipped the coffee and studied the pair sitting across from him. “Did you know she’s been buying my shit for years?” Tug grinned, and Deke lifted an eyebrow, shaking his head back and forth. “Yeah. She bought one at that last show, and I tagged along for the delivery. Tamara and the delivery service tried to talk me out of it, because they knew about her—” He paused and cast around a moment for the right word, finally settling on the one his agent had used. “—quirks. But you know me.” He shrugged, hiding behind his mug again for a moment. “I’m an asshole and didn’t give a shit. I wanted to see her and that’s all that mattered to me.”

  “That’s gotta be the visit she said started it.” Tug smirked, his mustache lifting with the movement. “After everything, she said she stood and watched you get on your scoot, started wondering what it would be like to just get on a bike and ride off into the sunset, leaving everything behind.”

  “Huh.” Hoss shook his head. Even the thought of escape seemed unlike the woman he’d met. But he would have never pictured her on a bike, either. Need to listen, asshole. “What do you know about her? What’s her story?”

  “That’s for her to tell you.” Deke turned to look at Tug with interest, and Hoss realized Tug had kept whatever it was to himself. “I can say it’s not pretty. The things we men do to women in anger seldom are.”

  “Brother, that statement alone gives us an idea of what happened.” Hoss set his mug on the counter and wrapped both hands around it, holding tightly so he didn’t wing it across the room like he suddenly wanted to. The idea of Cassie being hurt twisted through his stomach, leaving a path of stinging pain behind. “She’s okay, though?”

  “Physically, yeah. She’s okay. Mentally?” Tug shook his head. “You saw her. You’ve seen her. It’s something she carries every day. She told me, and just the telling added to her scars.” He lowered his voice, sincerity ringing through his tone. “She’s strong, brother.”

  “Yeah, I got that from her yesterday. The diner was tough, and I thought if something so easy to me could wreck her like that, what’s her normal day like?” Hoss turned abruptly, giving the two men his back as he refilled his mug, using the action as a cover to try and regain composure. Head angled down to the dark liquid filled with sloshing ripples, he murmured, “I wanna get to know her.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.” Deke laughed as he added his first tidbit to the conversation. “I told you yesterday what I wanted for you.”

  “Yeah, and it ain’t exactly a secret what you wanted, Hossman.” Tug joined Deke in easy laughter. “You cared for her like she was the most precious thing in your world. Was good to see.” Hoss swallowed hard and turned back, mug in hand as he stared at Tugboat. “Every man wants that for you, Hoss. Seeing her with you, I’m thinking she can give that to you, but you’ll have to go easy with her.”

  “I know.” He stared at first one then the other. “I can put the work in.”

  “You’ll have to,” Tug agreed and pushed his empty mug across the countertop. “Gimme a fill-up, would ya? We’ve got work to do here, too.”

  Hoss took both mugs and turned back to the coffee machine. He took his time filling them, getting his thoughts in order, and when he returned to place them in front of the men, he’d come to a decision. “I told her I’d see her today, and I’m going to make that happen. But,”—he scowled at Tugboat—“first you’re going to tell me everything you know about her.” When the old man opened his mouth to object, Hoss held up a hand and nodded. “Nothing you think betrays her confidence. I wouldn
’t ask that. That’s mine to discover with what I’m gonna build with her. But everything else—” He shrugged. “—fair game. So tell me. From the first contact until you rode away from her house yesterday. Tell me.”

  ***

  Hoss stood next to his bike and studied the garage in front of him, the yard beside, and house beyond. He’d gotten Cassie’s number from Tugboat, silently rolling his eyes while enduring the old man’s ribbing that her info didn’t already reside in his phone. The garage had necessitated hours of work, Hoss laboring alongside Deke on two different custom jobs, but when there’d been a lull midafternoon, he’d escaped into the office, and without giving himself too much time to consider the butterflies in his belly, he’d called Cassie. She’d answered on the second ring, laughter in her voice with the simple word, “Hello.”

  The clock had never moved so slowly, and he’d caught himself staring at it more than once, willing the hands to move faster. Finally quitting time, he’d hurried home and put his plans into motion. There was a picnic dinner packed into a small bag strapped on the back of the bike. The bag could be moved easily if Cassie decided to ride with him. Not that he expected her to, because the way she’d owned her place on her bike the previous day told a story of finding independence. Pairing that with the tales Tug and Deke shared about her, Hoss hoped he had a good handle on how best to pursue her.

  That was the decision he’d come to sometime in the middle of the night as he started yet another study of her smile. Having been the luckiest man once before, he knew he’d be a fool to walk away from the possibility Cassie dangled in front of him. “I’m no fool,” he repeated what he’d told Tugboat earlier. He glanced at the time on his phone before shoving it deep into his pocket. Five minutes early, so he leaned back on the seat of his bike and looked around her quiet neighborhood.