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

by Chiah Wilder

  Nicole pushed up from the couch. “Lemme see.”

  “No!” Ashley clutched the base of her throat.

  Her friend’s eyes widened. “Relax. It’s probably someone out for a walk or something.”

  “He looks like the guy who was in the parking lot my first day on the job.”

  “What guy? Do you know him?” Nicole peeked through the drapes. “I can’t tell what he looks like.”

  “I’m going by his height and the clothes he’s wearing. I’m sure it’s the same guy.” A sick feeling twisted in the pit of her stomach.

  “It looks like he’s checking his phone. I don’t think he’s looking at the house.”

  “I know he’s here for me,” Ashley whispered. She pulled out her cell and scrolled through her contacts until she found Smokey’s number. Hesitating, she stared down at his name, and swiped out of the screen instead of making the call. Moving next to Nicole, she pulled the curtain and looked out again. The man glanced up from his phone and looked back at her. Shivers raced down her spine.

  Then, the man began to walk toward her house.

  She drew back. “I’m calling the police.”

  “What for? I really think this guy’s harmless.”

  “I don’t.” Ashley plugged in the number.

  “Wait. He walked away,” Nicole said.

  She brought the phone to her ear. “It won’t hurt to have a squad car drive around to make sure.”

  “Ash”—Nicole’s hand rested on Ashley’s shoulder— “I think you’re overreacting. The guy’s gone, and he wasn’t Jeffrey.”

  “May I help you?” a woman answered.

  She knew her friend was right, and suddenly, her conviction drained away.

  “Sorry, wrong number,” she mumbled before hanging up.

  Reclaiming her spot on the couch, Nicole said, “I know Jeffrey being free has really freaked you out. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. Everything’s fine. I guess I’m just tired.”

  “And maybe you had one too many like me. I mean, Jared sure made those drinks strong. And I wouldn’t mind seeing him again when I come back this way in a couple of days. I’ll only be able to hang for a few hours before heading back to Denver, though.”

  “Yeah. I’ll ask Whitney about his schedule. It’s too bad you have to go back to work on Thursday.”

  “I know, but I’ll be back when I can spend more time with you. Listen, why don’t we hang out here and watch a movie?”

  “That’ll be good,” Ashley replied, but her mind was on the man who’d been watching the house. In spite of herself, the paranoia was still there, buzzing in her mind like a swarm of flies.

  She sank down on the cushion of the sofa and propped her feet up on the coffee table. The images on the television screen flashed by, but all Ashley could see was the man in the dark clothes in the parkway staring at her.

  11

  Smokey watched his brother scarf down a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

  “Fuck, dude. When’s the last time you ate?”

  “Yesterday morning,” Ryan said between mouthfuls. “We didn’t have shit in the house.”

  “I sent over a box of food a few days ago,” Smokey said as he picked up his coffee mug.

  “I asked Mom about it, but she was in a mood.” Picking up a piece of toast, he slathered it in butter and jam. “You know how she is.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Smokey thrummed his fingers on the table. “I gotta get going pretty soon. I have a meeting with”—he hesitated as the memory of his mouth on Ashley’s flashed through his mind—“someone at work.”

  It irritated him that he was looking forward to seeing her, but what could he say? He was drawn to those mesmerizing blue eyes, the sheen of her hair, the way her curves moved when she walked. Just thinking about her made his pants grow tight.

  “Is it about something you’re gonna build?”

  “Nah.” Pushing his coffee mug aside, he leaned back in the booth. “I spoke to Cara last night, and she thinks Landon’s full of shit. She told me there’s no way you’re going on the registry.”

  Ryan bunched up his napkin and tossed it onto his empty plate. “She’s nice. She believes me.”

  “Yeah, Cara’s cool.”

  “She’s married to Hawk, right?”

  “Yeah—she’s his old lady. What I need from you is the name of the chick claiming she’s a victim.”

  “Okay. I wrote down the name and address when Cara left the room for a minute.” Leaning back against the cushion, he shoved a hand into his pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it over to Smokey. “Here you go. What’re you gonna do with it?”

  “You don’t need to know.” Slipping it into his wallet, he met his brother’s eyes. “Did Cara tell you that you need to get your fuckin’ act together and get your ass into rehab?”

  He looked down at his water glass. “Yeah.”

  “I’m cleaning up your damn mess, again. But this time, you owe me.”

  His brother looked up then. “You want me to pay Cara? My disability check doesn’t go too far.”

  “Especially since you drink it all up.” Placing his forearms on the table, Smokey leaned forward. “I don’t want your money, but your ass is gonna go to a treatment center. You need to get off the booze because you’re killing yourself. Do you wanna end up like the old bastard? Fuck, man.”

  Ryan shook his head. “I’m nothing like him.”

  Smokey sighed and took a drink of his water. “I didn’t say you were. You’re a good guy, but you drink too much.” He held up his hand when Ryan opened his mouth. “Let me finish. I know the lure of booze. It, and weed, were the only things that dulled my senses to the shitty life I had when I was living on the streets. If I’d stayed with it and turned out like the old asshole, my life would’ve been in the fuckin’ toilet. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  “I know. You had it bad when you ran away. Why didn’t you come back home?”

  “Living in doorways, cars, and under bridges was a million times better than being under the same roof with the old man. Anyway, we’re not here to go down memory lane. I want you to make a real effort to get sober.”

  “Okay,” Ryan whispered.

  “I mean it. I don’t want you ending up like Nick.”

  Ryan’s jaw ticked. “I’d never beat a woman to death.”

  “Yeah, that’s what he told Mom after he got arrested for killing his old lady. He was drunk as shit when it happened. Let’s face it, Ryan—the old man fucked us all up in different ways. We’ve got his blood running through our veins, as well as his anger.”

  “I’m not angry.”

  Smokey smiled. “No, you’re not. Out of the five of us, you’re the peaceful one. Maybe Keston’s okay too—I don’t know.”

  “Keston and me were close when we were young, but now, I don’t even know where he is. Do you?”

  “Last I heard, he was somewhere in Pennsylvania.”

  “Maybe I can call him sometime. Can you find his phone number?”

  “Sure.”

  It was always the same scenario: Ryan would ask Smokey to find their youngest brother’s phone number, and when he did, Ryan would never call. It was some weird game they’d been playing over the last few years.

  Smokey scooted out of the booth. “I’m holding you to getting your damn ass to a rehab center Cara recommends. Got it?”

  Swinging his legs out into the aisle, he rose to his feet, following behind Stoney. “I will. Cara said it’ll look good to the judge if I meet with the people at the center.”

  “This isn’t just to impress some fuckin’ dude in a robe—it’s for your damn life. You gotta follow through on it.”

  “I will, I promise. Thanks for breakfast.”

  “I’ll send over some groceries today. Text me what you and Mom want. I have to get to the office.”

  “I’d like to see your office.”

  Opening his wallet, Smokey handed
over several bills to the cashier. “Sometime,” he replied.

  “Hey, bro,” Animal greeted as he walked into the diner with Klutch and Helm.

  Turning around, he bumped fists with them. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. Shadow said he’s helping you out at a site.”

  “Yeah, but we’re almost done with it. I’m heading out there now.” Smokey slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

  Helm tipped his head to Ryan. “Hey, man.”

  Ryan smiled wide. “Hi. What are you guys up to?”

  “Just getting some chow.” Helm turned to Smokey. “Banger’s called church for tomorrow afternoon.”

  “What’s up?”

  “The fucking Rising Order assholes,” Animal replied. “Seems like they’re bottom rocker is claiming Colorado.”

  Smokey snorted. “Well that’s not gonna happen.”

  Klutch nodded his head in agreement.

  “Skeet’s dumber than I thought if he thinks we’re gonna put up with this shit.” Animal said.

  Smokey narrowed his eyes. “We gotta beat their asses and end this BS once and for all.”

  The bikers grumbled their agreement, then clammed up when more people entered the eatery.

  “I better get going.” He bumped fists with his friends again. “Later.”

  The sound of gravel crunched under the two men’s shoes as they made their way across the parking lot. Stopping beside a brown Toyota, Ryan unlocked the door and looked over at his brother.

  “Don’t forget about the groceries.”

  Smokey pulled out his sunglasses and put them on as he gazed across the lot. “I won’t. Just text me what you want.”

  “Oh yeah! I forgot I was supposed to do that. When are you gonna come over to the house?”

  Smokey shrugged. “No reason to.”

  Ryan rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “Mom asks about you.”

  “Bullshit. If she never saw me again, that would suit her just fine.”

  “If you would’ve come to Dad’s funeral, she would’ve been okay.”

  A dry laugh escaped past his lips. “She was never okay, but you can believe what you want.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the funeral?”

  Smokey swung a leg over the bike and settled into the seat. “’Cause I’m not a fuckin’ hypocrite.”

  Turning the key, the motorcycle roared to life, the sound music to his ears. Gripping the handlebars, he backed out of the parking space and sped out of the lot. With the vibration of the bike coursing through him, he felt at peace.

  Two hours later, Smokey was in his office, tucking a blue button-down shirt into his charcoal pants. He kept a few “professional” outfits at the office for days when he had a meeting after visiting a construction site.

  As he cinched his belt tight, he heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”

  Sabrina waltzed into the office, shutting the door behind her as she ran her eyes over him. “You look good. Do you have a meeting?”

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  “Not much. I was just wondering how the marketing project is coming along.

  Smokey jerked his head back. “Why are you asking? You’ve never taken an interest in the business.”

  “Yes I have.” She pushed her lower lip out in a pout. “You’re not being fair.”

  “Look, I’m not criticizing you, I’m just surprised you give a shit about the campaign.”

  “I care about a lot of things that concern you. Anyway, I know Ms. Callahan is leaving after the project is wrapped up, so I wanted to know if her office is going to be left empty.” Sabrina picked at her cuticle. “I’m asking for Ivy—honest.”

  “The project’s been delayed.”

  Her face fell. “Delayed? For how long?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “How is this your business? Don’t worry about shit that doesn’t concern you.”

  “I was just asking for Ivy,” she muttered.

  “Tell Ivy to come in and ask for herself next time.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.”

  She took a few steps toward him. “You act like you are.”

  “I’m busy, that’s all.”

  She stopped in her tracks. “I heard you’ve got something going on with her.”

  Anger pricked at the back of his neck. “With Ivy?”

  “No. With the one from Denver.”

  “Her name is Ms. Callahan, and I don’t like office gossip.” He fixed her with a steely gaze.

  “AJ told me he’d seen the two of you at Ruthie’s last week.”

  “Look, Sabrina, you’ve got to understand that nothing’s ever going to happen between you and me. Stop meddling. For your sake, I’m going to forget we had this conversation.” He walked over and opened the door. “Shouldn’t you be at the front desk?”

  “I’m just trying to protect you,” she said as she walked toward the door.

  He laughed dryly. “People need protecting from me, not the other way around.”

  “I care about you, that’s all.” She strolled past him, then paused. “I always will.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.” He closed the door behind her, then strode over to the filing cabinet.

  Smokey plucked out the folder on the marketing projections Ashley had given him a while back, figuring it’d be a good idea to review the paperwork before she came in for the meeting. He didn’t want to add to her idea that he didn’t give a damn about his company. What she didn’t understand was that working the construction projects took precedence over the front-end of the office. He had Pearl, Ivy, and Katrina to make sure the administrative BS ran smoothly, and he’d hired IMG to do the marketing.

  Smokey tossed the file onto the desk and sat down. He never imagined the woman Zach touted as the workaholic of IMG would be such a sexy knock-out. Besides that, he hadn’t counted on her sassiness, his strong attraction to her, or the effect she seemed to have on him. He admired her tenacity, her intelligence, and the way she looked in a tight pair of jeans.

  Fuck. I can’t blow this. I gotta keep her at arm’s length. He didn’t want to do anything to make her hightail it back to Denver. The company needed to expand. It needed a top-notch marketing campaign, and Ashley was ready and willing to deliver it.

  There was no doubt that during the meeting, it would take every ounce of self-control he had not to kiss her before bending her over his desk for a good fucking. Smokey’s dick thickened against his zipper as he conjured up her image in a sheer red thong and black heels. He squirmed in the his chair as he pictured himself stroking her rounded ass cheeks while she whimpered. Dropping to his knees, he would spread her stiffened legs apart and work his tongue from her heated slash to her throbbing sweet spot while pumping two fingers into her, causing her to buck off the desk, her big tits swaying—

  His eyes flew open when someone knocked on the door. Quickly adjusting his pants, he opened the folder.

  “Come in,” he called out.

  Pearl entered, crossing the room to his desk. “I’ve got the contract for you from Denton Corp.”

  “I’ll look it over this afternoon.”

  Placing the document on his desk, she smiled. “You look nice.”

  “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to look professional once in a while.”

  “I’m sure Ashley will appreciate it.”

  “What the hell does that mean? I have a meeting with the Cole Brothers later today.”

  “Like you did last month when you wore jeans and a T-shirt?” Pearl sat down. “I think Ashley is a wonderful young lady.”

  “Don’t start your matchmaking, Pearl. You’ve been trying to tie me down since I hired you. Anyway, Ashley and I have a professional relationship, and that’s it.”

  Pearl’s smile widened. “If you say so.”

  Before Smokey could reply, Ashley breezed into the room, the scent of her patchouli and lavender perfume wafting over him, stirring his senses. His balls tightene
d, and his waning erection came back to full attention.

  An inquiring look spread across her flushed face, as if wondering why he hadn’t stood to greet her. For obvious reasons, he remained seated.

  “Don’t you look pretty,” Pearl said as she rose to her feet.

  Ashley shifted her gaze to Pearl. “Thank you.

  Shifting uncomfortably, Smokey tried to focus on something other than Ashley’s lush curves in her tailored plum suit. A hint of lace peeked out from under the jacket, driving him wild. Calm the fuck down. Focus. The first Harley came out in 1903 in Milwaukee. The bike was built to be a racer. In 1928, the first two-cam engine came out to the public. In—

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  He glanced up at a smiling Ashley. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. “Just thinking about a meeting I have coming up at three. How’ve you been?”

  “Good, thanks.” She pointed at the folder on his desk. “Did you have a chance to review the projections?”

  “I looked them over.” For all of five seconds. This chick is killing me.

  Taking a seat on the leather chair in front of his desk, she opened the thick file in her hands. “I made copies of the flow charts, as well as the various campaigns. I’ve come up with ten marketing proposals, and you can tell me which ones you like best. Once I know, I can start implementing them.”

  “I can see you put a lot of work into this.”

  She glanced up, blinking rapidly. “Are you making fun of me?”

  Straightening in his chair, he planted both hands on the desk and leaned forward. “No, I’m not. I’m impressed by your hard work.”

  “That’s what I get paid for.” A crease of annoyance burrowed between her brows.

  “Good point.” He reached over and snagged the copies she set out for him. “Okay—do your job.” Slumping back in his chair, he perused the pages.

  Ashley stood up and walked over to the easel, placing several large, Post-It style presentation sheets on it, and began to explain the various campaigns. He had to admit, Zach had been right when he said Ashley was one of the best in the field. Smokey had never seen her in action, and at that moment, he was blown away by her confidence and passion. The more he watched her, the more he wanted her.