Smokey's Distraction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 15)

by Chiah Wilder

  “Nothing. Are you gonna go out with Whitney?”

  Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know. It would be nice to get to know someone outside of work. It’ll depend on whether I have any free time.”

  “You will. I work hard and expect my staff to do the same, but I’m not a taskmaster.”

  She smiled. “I tend to be my own.”

  “I’ll have to change that,” he said as he put some mushrooms on her plate. “Try these—they’re fuckin’ delicious.”

  “How long have you known Whitney?”

  “A few years. She’s a good person who has shitty taste in men. Whitney has a big heart, but most of the time it squeezes out her judgment.”

  “Did you two ever date?” Ashley put a bite of mushroom in her mouth.

  Smokey laughed. “Nah, we never hooked up. I’m good friends with Eric—he owns the place. I wouldn’t feel right about screwing around with one of his employees.”

  She threw him an incredulous stare. “You actually have some ethics.”

  “Of course. Fuck, lady, give me some credit.”

  Ashley laughed. “You’re right about the mushrooms—they’re the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Take some more.” He slid a healthy portion onto her plate, then put the rest on his. “I remodeled Blue’s. You shoulda seen it before—it was a dump.”

  “You did a great job. I loved the décor and the layout of the bar. Whitney mentioned it’d been recently redone.”

  “It turned out pretty good,” he said as he picked up his pint. “And thanks for ordering me another beer.” Smokey took a large gulp and then finished up his meal.

  “Would you like some dessert?” the waiter asked as he cleared their plates.

  Ashley shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “I’m good,” Smokey said.

  “Anything more to drink?”

  “Nothing for me—I have to drive,” she said while Smokey shook his head no.

  “I’ll be right back with the check,” the server said before scurrying away.

  Ashley lifted up her briefcase and zipped it open. “I want to show you what I came up with.” She took out a large manila folder with a multitude of colored tabs sticking out from the side of it.

  “I gotta admit, I’m not really into this right now,” Smokey said, then quickly added, “but let’s give it a shot” when he saw her crestfallen face.

  “Okay.” She opened the folder, took out several pages, and handed them to him. Some had graphs on them and others had large circles in different colors. “These are the projections for the first campaign. As I said, I’ve worked up several, but to be successful, we’ll have to launch at least three over a three- to-four-month period.”

  Smokey looked at the sheet with the graphs. “This is the projection for the first few months?”

  “Yes, and the second page is for the next eight months.”

  He was looking at the next page when his phone rang. Glancing down at the screen, Klutch’s name flashed across it. He held up his finger to Ashley. “Hang on, I gotta take this.”

  He brought the phone to his ear and turned sideways in his chair.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “I don’t mean to bother you on your date—”

  Smokey cupped his hand over his mouth. “I’m not on a fuckin’ date.”

  “Whatever,” Klutch said. “We got a problem over here. Your brother came by, and he’s drunk as shit and bothering all the club girls. We said he could pick one to fuck, but it seems he only wants to flash them and cuss them out. I’m trying to keep the peace, but Tank and Bones are ready to kick him in the balls, and Hawk’s one step from beating the shit outta him.”

  “Why the fuck’s Ryan even there?”

  “Said he was looking for you.”

  “Put the bastard on the phone,” Smokey said as he stood up. He looked at Ashley. “I gotta take this outside. I’ll be right back.”

  A few seconds later Smokey was in the lot, smoking a joint as he waited for his brother to come to the phone.

  “Hey, dude.” Ryan’s slurred voice grated his nerves.

  “What the fuck are you doing at the clubhouse?” he asked his brother.

  “Looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “I got in some trouble. I don’t wanna go to jail.” Ryan’s voice hitched.

  “What did you do?”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it. When are you coming here?”

  “I’ll be there in a bit. Go to my room and stay there. You’re pissing everyone off, and I can’t protect you.”

  “I’m not doing shit!” Anger punctuated his words.

  “Okay, settle the fuck down and just wait in my room. The club girls are busy with the members. Go to my room. Now.”

  “I’m going now. I don’t wanna go to jail.” A sob filled Smokey’s ears.

  “Wait ’til I get there. I’ll sort it out for you. Are you in my room?”

  “Uh-huh. Do you got any whiskey? They cut me off—the fucking bikers cut me off.”

  Smokey’s blood ran cold. “Don’t be sayin’ shit like that unless you want a stomping. Disrespecting a brother isn’t allowed. I can’t help you if you talk smack, so just wait for me. Turn on the fuckin’ TV, but don’t leave the room.”

  “Okay,” Ryan slurred. “I’m just gonna lie down and wait for you.”

  “Yeah, you do that.”

  Smokey slid the phone into his pocket and hurried back into the restaurant.

  “Is everything okay?” Ashley asked.

  “Actually, no. I gotta go. We’ll do this another time.” He picked up the check, then pulled out his wallet and threw down some Ben Franklins.

  Ashley narrowed her eyes. “Are you bullshitting me?”

  “No. Something’s come up with my brother. I’ll check my schedule and see if we can meet in my office tomorrow. If not, then the day after.”

  “Is it something bad?” she asked as she opened her purse.

  “No—it’s more of a pain in my ass. What’re you doing?” He watched as she took out a credit card.

  “Paying for my share.”

  “Put the damn card away. I’m paying.”

  “This isn’t a date, so I’d feel better if I paid.” Ashley slapped the Visa card down on top of the bill folder.

  Smokey took it and slid it over to her. “This was a business meeting, and according to my accountant, I need more expenses. I got this.” He motioned for the waiter to come over.

  “Do you need change?” the server asked as he opened the folder and glanced at the bills.

  “No.” Smokey pushed his chair back.

  “Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful evening.” The waiter turned away.

  Smokey walked around to Ashley and pulled out her chair, then escorted her out of the steakhouse.

  Stepping outside, Ashley pulled up the collar of her coat. “That wind is damn cold,” she said.

  “Yeah, but it’s supposed to get warmer next week.”

  “I hope so. I’m tired of snow.” She glanced over at him. “Nothing was really accomplished tonight except for eating a delicious meal, so thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” Smokey shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at some point,” she said, half-turning away.

  “I’ll walk you to your car and follow you home.” The person who stood by her car, then ran off still gnawed at his gut.

  “What? I’m capable of driving myself home. I’ve been doing it for quite a few years now without any trouble.”

  “It’s what I do, and I don’t have time to argue with you.” He jerked his head toward her car. “Let’s get a move on.”

  “You’re so bossy! I don’t like people deciding things for me.”

  “Take it up with HR,” he said as they walked toward the Buick.

  Glaring at him, she said, “You don’t care at all what I think. You’re the most arrogant
man I’ve ever met.”

  He shrugged. “If you say so.” He threw her one of his annoyingly smug smiles just to rile her up.

  Ashley rolled her eyes, and her mouth set in an irritated line.

  “This is your car,” he said, satisfaction at her displeasure coursing through him.

  “I know that,” she snapped before pressing the fob, then slipping inside.

  “I’m not parked too far away. Just wait until I pull next to you before you take off.” Smokey closed the door and walked toward his SUV. When he heard the squeal of the tires as she took off, he laughed. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you, woman,” he muttered under his breath.

  Even though Ashley had a head start, Smokey easily caught up with her. He already knew where she was staying from the address she’d given in the file. Over the last few years, he’d been to the house many times when Zach had been in town. But it seemed important for Ashley to think that she had the upper hand, so he let her think she’d lost him. Taking a shortcut, he pulled in front of the house and waited until he saw the Buick’s headlights in the rear view mirror. Smokey jumped out of the car and walked toward the driveway.

  “Very funny,” she said when she got out of the car. “I suppose you expect me to ask you in?”

  “I’ll check your place, then I gotta go.”

  Ashley laughed dryly. “I’ve never heard that one before from a guy. I’m tired and I don’t want company.”

  “I’m not going in for that. I want to make sure everything’s safe.”

  “You bought me dinner—you don’t have to play knight in shining armor,” she said as she opened the door.

  “The business bought dinner, and I don’t play shit—I do.” He brushed past her and plodded through the house, checking windows, doors, and closets.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked while following close behind him.

  “Just making sure you’re safe. Is there an alarm system in here?”

  “No.”

  “Zach’s a cheap bastard,” he muttered under his breath. “Gimme your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I asked you.”

  “You didn’t really ask—you demanded,” she replied as she handed him her phone.

  “In my world, it’s the same damn thing.” He punched in his phone number. “If you need anything, call me. If something doesn’t feel right, call me.”

  “Okay … now you’re beginning to scare me. Do you know something I don’t?” She clutched the phone.

  “I gotta go. I’ll see you at work.”

  Smokey walked through the garage and waited until she closed the door, then he went over to his car and scanned the area. Nothing seemed out of sorts. Maybe the dude thought I was gonna mess with him and that’s why he took off. But his instincts told him otherwise. All he had to do was figure out who the person was and why he was interested in her.

  For several minutes he sat in the car watching for any movement, straining his ears for any sound out of the ordinary, but there was nothing. He saw Ashley peeking out the blinds, then looked down at his phone when it rang; the number flashing across wasn’t familiar.

  “Yeah?” Suspicion laced his voice.

  “Why are you still parked in front of the house?” Ashley asked.

  Smokey chuckled. “I was checking something in the car.”

  “It doesn’t look that way.”

  “That’s what it is. I was just ready to head out.”

  A long pause passed between them before Ashley spoke, “I hope we can go over the marketing campaign tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I’ll let you know in the morning.”

  “Goodnight.”

  “Yeah.” He hung up the phone, then switched on the engine. After slowly pulling away from the curb, he made his way to the clubhouse.

  When Smokey arrived at the club, Hawk was leaning against the brick wall, smoking a joint.

  “Hey,” Smokey said, bumping fists with the vice president.

  “Hey.”

  “Klutch called me—sorry about this shit my brother caused.”

  “Yeah, I was ready to bash his face in.” Hawk inhaled deeply, then released a stream of smoke from his lips. “Your brother’s not welcome here. Make sure his ass doesn’t come back.”

  Smokey nodded.

  “He’s not a fuckin’ member, so he shouldn’t have been here tonight. I know you didn’t tell him to come, but he’s your family, so it’s on you to control him.”

  “I know—I got this.”

  “Make sure that you do.” Hawk stubbed out the joint on the ground.

  Smokey walked inside the club and went straight to his room. Anger sparked inside him, and he had to take several deep breaths to calm down before confronting his brother.

  When he opened the door, the room was dark, so he switched on the light. Ryan lay on his back in the bed, his mouth open, snoring loudly. Smokey kicked off his boots then went over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of dark gray pajama pants and a black T-shirt.

  After washing up, he switched off the overhead light and shuffled over to the bed. A beam of moonlight cut across Ryan’s face, and the scent of bourbon reeked from him. Smokey stared, watching his brother’s chest rise and fall, and the anger from moments before slowly melted away. Images of his younger brother cowering in the corner of the living room, lips drained of blood, his face pale like a white stone, and his brimming wide eyes fixed on their father—who stalked toward the boy—spewing obscenities as he unbuckled his belt.

  Then, the hiss of leather cut through the air as he yelled, “You fucking brat! You’ll never amount to anything. You make me sick!” The memory of the thwack from the strap against Ryan’s skin made Smokey’s muscles bunch, and he saw himself as a young boy again, rushing over to protect his brother. The belt whipped him across his face when he stepped between Ryan and his father. Then his father turned on him as his mother quietly scampered away. It was a scenario that had repeated itself a thousand times in their household.

  Smokey reached over and pulled the blanket from the other side of the bed. “You smell just like the old bastard always did,” he mumbled under his breath as he covered his brother.

  He walked over to the window and leaned against the sill. He lit a joint and stared into the darkness. Thoughts of Ashley flitted through his mind. He’d enjoyed having dinner with her, and it surprised the hell out of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that good of a time with a chick and it hadn’t ended in sex. But she’s in danger—I sense it. For some reason, he felt an overpowering need to protect her, which was fucked up since he hardly knew the woman. But then, he didn’t like to see anyone who worked for him be in distress. Yeah, that’s all it is. I’d feel the same way if it were Pearl, Ivy, Sabrina, Georgia, Katrina, or any of my crew.

  Smokey stubbed out the joint, then crossed the room to grab a sleeping bag out of the closet. After snagging a pillow off the bed, he spread the bag on the floor and slipped inside, then punched the pillow into shape and closed his eyes.

  7

  Ashley stood in the doorway of Smokey’s office, once again looking at his empty desk. For the past three days, she hadn’t caught one glimpse of him, leading her to suspect he was avoiding her. She’d thought the dinner meeting a few nights back had gone well, even though no business had actually been discussed. But now, she was second-guessing her assessment of that evening.

  When Smokey had told her he had to go, she’d been suspicious at first, but the tightness around his mouth revealed he was telling the truth about his brother. She’d planned to ask him how everything had turned out the following morning, and had even gone out of her way to stop at the local grocery store to pick up a box of donuts for him, but he hadn’t shown up to work. And now, three days later, there was still no sign of him.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” Pearl asked as she walked over to Ashley.

  “Yes. I seem to keep missing Mr. Harty, and I
need to speak with him. Do you know when he’ll be back in the office?”

  She smiled. “Mr. Harty’s been working on-site for the last few days, and I don’t expect him back in the office for the rest of the week. Did you want me to give him a message when he checks in?”

  “He hasn’t been in the office at all?”

  “No. Maybe I can help you?”

  “Not really. “I need to meet with him to go over the marketing campaigns, but it doesn’t seem like he’s interested in that right now, does it?”

  Pearl smiled, the lines around her mouth deepening. “He’s a hands-on employer, and sometimes gets so engrossed in a construction job, he forgets he has other matters in need of his attention. I’ll inform him you want to set up an appointment to go over the marketing ideas.” She pointed to the folder in Ashley’s hand. “Do you want to leave that with me? I’ll make sure Mr. Harty gets it.”

  “No. I’m always reviewing and revising, so I’d like to hang onto it. Just let me know when the appointment is set.”

  Turning on her heels, she made her way down the hall and to her office.

  “Did you get a chance to see Smo—I mean, Mr. Harty?” Georgia asked with an earnest look etched into her features.

  Ashley shook her head. “He’s not in. He’s been working at a construction site with his crew.”

  A sliver of anticipation glimmered in Georgia’s doe-eyed gaze. “When will he be back?”

  “I have no idea.” Walking toward her office, Ashley called over her shoulder, “Can you print out the spreadsheets you compiled on the radio and television campaigns?”

  “Sure.”

  The way Georgia fawned over Smokey was beyond annoying, but it didn’t piss her off as much as the glares she got from Sabrina whenever she ran into the receptionist. It seemed like all the women in the office had a massive crush on their boss, and were all vying to be his number one girl. Well, all the women except for Pearl … and me. No wonder he’s so cocky—he’s got a bevy of women who’ll spread their legs for him in a second.

  Ashley slammed the file onto the desk, muttering under her breath, “I’m just trying to show Mr. Sexy the damn marketing plan I’ve been working on for far too long.”

  A knock on the door had her looking up. “Come in.”