by Joanna Blake
Ride With Me
The Delancey Brothers Trilogy
By
Joanna Blake
Copyright © 2014 by Joanna Blake
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2014
Pincushion Press
http://pincushionpress.tumblr.com/
For E.D.
Chapters
1. Dangerous
2. Impetuous
3. Scandalous
4. Fortuitous
5. Flirtatious
6. Cantankerous
7. Curious
8. Tumultuous
9. Adventurous
10. Malicious
11. Scrumptious
12. Symphonious
Six months later
1.
Jake gripped the handlebars of his Harley, his calloused hands barely feeling the strain of riding all day. His heavily muscled forearms were tanned where they peeked out of his broken in black leather jacket. It was almost too warm for it but if he didn't wear it, he'd have to pack it.
Jake liked to travel light.
Material possessions didn't mean anything to him. He had a handful of worn in clothes. A phone, his boots and his bike. That's it. He moved from place to place when the urge struck him.
And it struck him often.
Nothing had any permanence in this life and that's the way he liked it. Easy come, easy go. He had a ‘take it as it comes’ attitude when it came to clothes, personal belongings, friends and women.
Especially women.
In fact, Jake had just taken off from his last apartment when Suzy, one of the girls who hung around the bar he worked in, got a little too clingy. Hell, she got a lot too clingy. She'd started acting like she was his girlfriend.
Jake snorted. A girlfriend. That was a laugh. He didn't believe in relationships.
Hell, he didn't believe in much of anything.
A good beer, a good meal, a good lay. That and the feeling of his bike between his legs, hugging the road, riding like the wind. He liked to go fast.
Jake got a lot of traffic tickets. But that was okay. He could afford it.
Hell, the family lawyer was on retainer whether he used him or not. As aggravating as his family was at times, that lawyer had come in handy after a bar fight or twelve. Especially the time he broke a guy’s jaw for hitting a woman in the parking lot.
That was one fight he never regretted, no matter how much it cost his old man.
Jake had been at the end of his shift and enjoying a cold beer and a smoke out back when he heard it. A guy had been smack talking his woman. It had quickly progressed to him laying hands to her, roughing her up and more than just a little. Jake had come to the lady's defense. But by the next morning, the lady had been singing a different tune. She'd said Jake's attack was unprovoked, even saying that her bruises came from getting in the way of the scuffle.
That's what always happened. As soon as they'd found out who Jake was, who his family was, the gold diggers started swinging their pick axes. Nothing made Jake more disgusted than someone who was after his family's money.
Nobody robbed the Delancey's. It was a point of pride, even for Jake who'd turned his back on it. All seven billion of it.
Jake didn't want a cent of it himself. He was a firm believer in living off what you made with your hands. Of course, Jake was also a firm believer in working as little as possible.
That's why Jake Delancey, youngest son of the richest family in the state of Tennessee, was a bartender.
He smiled to himself.
Sometimes he wasn't even that. He'd been bar back more than once. He didn't really care one way or the other.
But, oooeeee, it sure pissed off his folks. And that was what he was after really, wasn't it? Punishing them for what they'd done to him.
What they'd believed.
He took the winding road through the expensive suburbs of Brentwood out to where the houses started to thin out and farms and ranches started to take over. As he crested a hill he could see it; Delancey Stables.
Home sweet home.
He nearly snorted. As if he'd called it home for more than a weekend since he'd been shipped off to military school at the age of twelve. He'd barely been back in all that time. But now he'd been summoned by his eldest brother Jackson. Not that he wasn't tempted to ignore such a high handed demand.
Just like he'd ignored all the other missives he'd gotten over the years.
This time it was different though.
This time, Jake was tired.
He'd run out of places to go. He wanted to come home, if only to remind him why the hell he ran in the first place. And it would make his Grandmother happy to see him at Christmas.
Home for the holidays.
What a joke.
**********
"Damnit all to hell!"
Elle was bent over, picking up the shards of broken china. She glanced up to see Shirley staring at her.
"Best not let Mr. Peabody hear you talk that way, girl. He'll dock you."
Elle stood up, brushing her hands off on the skirt of her uniform.
"Yeah well he didn't hear me did he? Sorry Shirl, I'm just having a day."
Shirley clucked her tongue sympathetically and bent down to help.
"Here, I'll hold the dust pan for you."
Elle nodded and grabbed the broom.
"Thanks Shirl. I don't know what I would do without you."
She meant it too. When Elle had arrived in Nashville without a work visa, no one would hire her. It was a lucky break and a band that was looking for a singer on Craigslist that started all of this. If the bassist’s sister hadn't been looking for a roommate she wouldn't have met Shirley. Now they shared a sweet little apartment outside Nashville. That led to befriending her roommate and eventually to landing this job.
They didn't check her papers when she applied. Shirl said that's because the Country Club relied on illegals to do so much of the grunt work on the golf course. And thank God for it too.
Otherwise God only knew what Elle would be doing to survive. After the first week in the youth hostel she'd been relying on extra crackers and a cup of soup to make it through most days. Things had been dire to say the least.
She'd known coming to America was a risk. But as a singer, she'd been irresistibly drawn to Nashville. The center of the music industry. There was a reason they called it 'Music City U.S.A.'.
Elle didn't sing country exactly. Her style was a bit edgier, a bit more rock and roll. But her voice blended beautifully in the country style. And since she'd known her share of heartbreak, the music had always been there for her.
Born to a single mom in a poor as dirt part of the Irish countryside, Elle had grown up hard and fast. The former mining town had one restaurant, owned by her mother's brother, Uncle Dave. If it hadn't been for Uncle Dave, Elle and her mother wouldn't have been able to eat, let alone live. As it was, Elle's mum was a waitress slash cook slash cleaning lady and Elle had worked alongside her since she could walk.
Good old fashioned child care her mother had called it, with a wry wink. For no matter how hard life had gotten, the beautiful woman had never stopped smiling. Or singing while she worked. Her mother's voice was one of the prettiest she'd ever heard.
Elle was still trying to live up to her mother's example. And when she made it big, her mother would never have to work again. Elle would buy her a big house, with a maid and a cook. And she could live anywhere she wanted in
the whole world.
Elle just had to get heard by the right people and it would happen. She knew it. With her looks and her voice, she knew it was only a matter of time.
Huge green eyes and dark hair marked her as Irish for anyone who looked. And plenty did. Her skin was pale as milk and unmarred, other than a tattoo high on her right hip. Her long dark hair and plentiful curves meant that she was forever fighting off the unwanted advances of men. But she didn't care as long as it helped her on the road to stardom.
Someday she'd be a guest at places like this instead of the help, she thought as she swept up the broken china.
Someday.
2.
Jake pulled on his borrowed tie and swilled another gulp of his watered down bourbon. He stared balefully around the Gold Room at the country club his father and brothers belonged to. All the Delancey men had belonged here in fact, going back three generations.
All except him.
God, he hated this place.
Not only was it filled with ostentatious, rich, privileged old bastards but, even worse, the food sucked. It did have decent bourbon though. If only he could get someone to give it to him straight.
Someone must have warned them about him.
It's not that Jake wasn't allowed at the club. He just wasn't allowed without supervision. Not since last time. He'd only been twelve years old at the time, but that was old enough to sneak behind the bar and steal a bottle of booze. He'd drank the whole damn thing with his brothers Daniel and Jackson.
They'd all gotten drunk but he'd been the one who drove the golf cart straight through the front window of the pro shop. He'd been the one who caused Daniel to break his arm. He'd been the one who was shipped off to military school.
What a laugh. That place taught you discipline sure, but only by learning how to take a beating. Or worse. He'd left the instant he turned eighteen- the day after graduation. And that was only because his mother had begged him to finish.
Even he couldn't turn down a woman who was dying.
His brother Daniel was asking him something. He tore his eyes away from the girl he'd been watching. It wasn't easy to do.
"What?"
"I said, are you back to stay? We could really use the help now that Dad's-"
"Shut up Daniel."
Jake rolled his eyes at his eldest brother Jackson. Of course they weren't keeping him in the loop. He wasn't one of them any more. He hadn't been since that day they let him take all the heat fifteen years before.
Besides, he wanted to go back to looking at her.
He'd been staring at the waitress all night. Jesus, he'd never seen anything like her. Those huge green eyes, the startlingly pretty face, the lips. Never mind the jet black hair, porcelain skin, legs that went on forever. It was the voice that he hadn't been able to get out of his mind.
Husky and rich but utterly feminine. And with an Irish lilt that was somehow lyrical, soothing, and arousing. All at the same time.
Jake felt like he was tied up in knots, and he hadn't even taken the time yet to really check out those magnificent tits of hers.
Eleanor.
That's what her name tag said.
Unfortunately she had disappeared from the room again. Presumably to work, but it felt like she was hiding to annoy him. He could bear his brother's pompous yammering if he had something so beautiful to look at.
Fuck it, might as well go and find her.
"I need another drink."
Jackson put his hand out to stop him.
"I think you've had enough Jake."
"Like hell I have!"
Jake stood and walked toward the back of the room. That's where she kept disappearing to. The staff was probably having a party back here. That's what he would do if he worked here. Laughing at the rich people's expense.
He stumbled a bit on the downward slope of the hallway leading into the bowels of the kitchen. It must be where they rolled out the trash. He peeked into several storage rooms but didn't see her so he kept going. At last he pushed open a doorway and was confronted with fresh air and the smell of-
Garbage.
He was about to turn around when he saw her.
There she was, palming a smoke in the back alleyway behind the club.
"Here kitty kitty kitty kitty."
She lifted her face to him. She looked annoyed at the interruption. But Damn if she didn't look stunningly beautiful all the same.
"I'm not a damn cat."
He grinned at her, leaning against the wall.
"I know that."
She rolled her eyes at him, taking a drag of her smoke.
"What do you want then?"
He grinned at her happily. Up close she was even prettier than he'd thought.
Too pretty almost. And full of piss and vinegar apparently.
This was going to be fun.
**********
Elle felt shell shocked. All night this rich pretty boy had been eyeballing her, not even being subtle about it. Now she was face to face with the bluest pair of eyes she had ever seen. The same eyes that had been making her feel strangely on edge since she'd first laid eyes on him.
Those eyes were trouble. She knew that. Especially since they belonged to someone so rich, arrogant and handsome.
Too handsome.
"Tsk tsk, such a bad girl smoking on country club property. It's against the rules. Or didn't you know that?"
She gasped, dropping her smoke. She couldn't lose her job. And she didn't want to get Shirley in trouble.
"Please- don't say anything. I could get fired."
She hated the whiney sound in her voice. She sounded like a little girl who was begging for candy. The bastard's cold smile grew even wider.
"What will you do for me? If I keep quiet?"
Her jaw seemed to literally drop open. He was smirking at her, his eyes wandering up and down her body. Of all the nerve!
"Nothing. Tell them if you want. I'm not for sale."
She tried to brush past him but he grabbed her arm, dropping his drink in the process. She got splattered with his bourbon as he held her immobile by his side with his iron grip. They stared into each other’s eyes for a breathless moment.
Then he stepped back and lifted his hands in the air.
"I was just kidding darlin'. I just wanted to bum a smoke."
Angry tears sprung to her eyes. He was such a jerk! Teasing her like that. And he was teasing her, she could tell. He smiled at her beseechingly.
"I swear on my life that I would never rat you out. And I'm too stupid for blackmail. No matter how tempting it might be."
She cursed and laughed. He was just drunk. A buffoon certainly. A pig most likely. Well that remained to be seen. Either way, he was a guest of the club and had to be treated accordingly. Besides, she kind of liked his verve.
"Alright."
She shook her head and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it for him. He took a long grateful drag and offered her a puff.
"No thanks."
"Suit yourself. I'm Jake by the way."
"Elle."
"Yeah, I kind of noticed that."
He smirked at her, gesturing to her name tag.
She stared at him, knowing she should go. He was wearing a club tie and jacket- kept on hand for those who couldn't be bothered to dress nicely enough. Usually that meant poor relations. But that's not exactly how she was reading him.
No, he didn't look like a relation at all.
What he looked like was a hawk in a dovecote.
Dangerous.
She shook herself. She was here to work, not moon over the guests. Especially, rude ones who reeked of bourbon. No matter how blue their eyes were. Or how broad their shudders were- or-
"Eleanor Gavin! What is the meaning of this? You are needed upstairs on the floor."
Oh no. Mr. Peabody'd found her. This was not good. A lump formed in her stomach at the thought of telling Shirley she'd gotten fired. Hopefully it wouldn't reflect badly on her
friend.
But instead of getting fired, she watched in awe as Mr. Blue Eyes turned around and made her supervisor turn stark white.
She could have sworn she saw Mr. Peabody's mustache quiver.
"Mr. Delancey! I'm sorry sir, I didn't see you there. This is an employee only section. And there's no smoking on the grounds."
"My fault entirely. Eleanor came out here to tell me the same thing and I waylaid her."
She glanced at him in shock then covered quickly. He was saving her ass! Thank God!
Hopefully he didn't expect anything in return for it.
"Alright Eleanor. You may return to your station. And Mr. Delancey, put that out if you don't mind."
She nodded regally and sailed past Mr. Peabody with her head held high. She could feel Jake's eyes on her as she walked back into the building. Check that.
She could feel his eyes on her ass.
If he did expect anything from her in return for covering, Mr. Blue Eyes Delancey would just have to get used to disappointment.
All the same, she was smiling the rest of the night.
3.
Jake stared into the gas fireplace. His brothers wanted to talk so he was there in the study, waiting for them to get on with it. It was marginally easier to pay attention without Eleanor to look at. But barely.
He couldn't get her out of his head.
"Jake, are you listening?"
He swirled his glass, making the ice clink against the crystal.
"Uh huh."
"I told you he'd be difficult."
Daniel was bitching about him to Jackson. Nothing new there. The two of them were thick as thieves. Jake was the one on the outside. Always.
Nothing had changed.
Well, except that mom was gone. And their father was ill. No one would tell him how ill though. But since the old man had actually looked glad to see him when he'd showed up out of the blue, Jake could guess that it was pretty bad.
"Spit it out."