The man had no clue. “You don’t know her. She lives for the kill. She’d like nothing better than to put me in my place in front of a crowd.”
“Some people got a real mean streak.” His eyes dropped to the glass in front of her. “What are you drinking?”
“Cola. I’m not twenty-one.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“I see. You want to get out of here? I know a place where a party’s happening. And I guarantee they won’t card you.”
Her eyes dropped to his patches. “I…I don’t think so.”
“Darlin’, you can trust me. I swear.”
“Said the wolf to the lamb.”
He chuckled. “You’re quick. I like that. You ever been on the back of a bike?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t let just any chick on the back of mine, so you must be special. Come on.”
“What’s your name?”
“They call me Shades.”
She put her hand out. “Alexandra.”
“Pretty name, but I’m gonna call you Tinker Bell. Come on, let’s go for a ride.” He tugged her off her barstool and led her out to his bike.
***
Tink remembered that night. He’d given her a ride to the clubhouse, and she’d met all his brothers. They’d been nothing like she’d expected. Perhaps Shades had sensed she needed a new set of siblings since hers sucked. He’d introduced her to the men as their new little sister and told them they were all to show her respect. They’d all been nice to her, and she’d had a great time. Some called her Lil’ Sis, and some quickly picked up the nickname Shades had given her, teasing her with it. She’d forgotten all about the humiliation earlier that night. True to his word, Shades had taken her home with the offer that she was welcome back anytime.
The place soon became her second home. It was a place she knew she’d never have to compete over with her sister.
Since that very first night, Shades had never asked for anything in return. How could she say no to him now?
“Tink?”
Tink thought about all the reasons this was a bad idea, but she owed Shades. “I’m trying to figure out how to make this work. I have a schedule—classes and… and a job.”
“We’ll work around it. It’s only temporary.”
Okay, temporary she could handle.
“It’ll only be for a few days. He’s going to find his sister, and we’ll help him with that.”
“Okay. I’ll make it work somehow. As long as it’s only temporary and all.”
“Great. I appreciate it, and I know Hammer will, too.” He lifted his chin toward the door. “Go work out a schedule with the girls.”
She stood to leave.
“Tink?”
She turned back. “Yes?”
“You ever have any problems, you know you can talk to me about ‘em, don’t you?”
She nodded, her eyes filling, and she turned quickly to leave before he saw them. If there was one thing she hated, it was to have anyone see her vulnerability.
Closing the door behind her, she lifted her chin and walked down the hall.
Hammer was sitting at a table with the baby and the other girls when she walked up. His eyes lifted to her.
“Everything okay?”
She pulled out a chair. “I can take mornings three days a week.”
Sherry stared at her. “Are you sure?”
Tink met her eyes and willed her not to continue questioning her. “I’m sure.”
“Okay. I’m taking afternoons. Desiree can take mornings two days a week and we can alternate evenings and weekends.”
“Hopefully it will only be a few days. A week, tops,” Hammer insisted to all of them, but his eyes were on her.
Tink nodded.
He stood. “Well, come on. I’ll take you out to my place, and we can make a list of what all you think I’ll need for the little guy. My ma gave me a pack-n-play, whatever that is. Says he can sleep in that.”
They all followed him out to the big old Cadillac.
“This yours?” Tink asked, eyeing the car that looked like something her grandfather would drive.
“It’s my ma’s. She had the car seat. I’ll have to get a ride to go pick my bike up later.”
“I can give you one,” Desiree offered.
Hammer gave her a halfhearted smile, his eyes flicking to Tink. “Yeah, sure.” He nodded to the car. “I think we can all fit if two of you can squeeze in the back with the car seat.”
“I call shotgun,” Desiree shouted, jumping in the front seat.
Tink and Sherry exchanged a look at her obvious ploy to be next to Hammer.
“Fine with me. I’ll ride in the back,” Tink said.
“I can squeeze in the middle,” Sherry said.
Hammer buckled Ethan in and got behind the wheel.
The car was big and comfortable. Tink stared out the passenger window behind Hammer. Her eyes kept straying to the back of his head and his broad shoulders. She caught him glancing in the rearview mirror, his eyes connecting with hers, and she quickly looked away. How was she going to get through this, especially with him making no secret of his attraction for her? She hoped she wouldn’t regret agreeing to this. She prayed Ethan’s mom came back soon.
CHAPTER SIX
Tink knew Hammer lived out in the country, but she hadn’t had a clue where. He rode out Hwy 119 toward Leeds. A couple of miles past the wooded preserve, he made a right down a dirt road. Tall Southern Longleaf Pines towered tall overhead on both sides; their fallen needles formed a honey-colored blanket covering the ground. Here and there, a few wildflowers poked through. The road was rutted and the car bumped along until they finally emerged into a field of rolling hills. The road climbed to the top of an incline, and Hammer spun the wheel, turning to a stop in front of a big structure.
“What is this?” Desiree asked, peering out the windshield.
“Is this where you live?” Sherry ducked her head to see.
“Yeah. Property’s been in my mother’s family for years and years. She never told my dad about it.”
“Why not?” Tink asked.
His eyes met hers in the mirror. “He would have gambled it away.”
“Oh.”
“What’d her family do with this land?” Desiree asked, glancing around.
“Used to be a sawmill out here. This was an old pole barn. I poured a cement floor and converted it to a living space. Added on the covered porch last summer. Come on. I’ll show you girls inside.”
Tink climbed from the car and scanned the place while Desiree and Sherry got the baby out of the car seat. It was a big rectangular structure with only one story.
She followed Hammer and the girls up the two steps. On the low-rise porch, reminiscent of a boardwalk, were a couple of rocking chairs with a small table between them.
Tink expected a clutter of empty beer bottles and such but saw none. She’d seen plenty of homes out in the woods with the grounds looking like a junkyard full of abandoned broken down vehicles, lawnmowers, old appliances… you name it. But not Hammer’s place. The only thing she saw in the yard was another motorcycle he appeared to be working on and a punching bag hanging from a pecan tree that provided the home some shade.
She followed the girls inside and stopped dead in her tracks as she took the place in.
“Wow,” Sherry said.
Tink agreed. The place was the definition of open concept. It was one big place with open rafters above making the ceiling high. Off to the right was a kitchen. In the middle was a living room. A freestanding chest-high bookcase surrounded a fireplace and separated the living area from a dining area. A flat screen sat above the fireplace with bookshelves on either side. Positioned before it were two comfy sofas facing each other and a coffee table between them.
The bookcase served as a room divider with a dining table and chairs on the other side. Beyond that was a tall bookcase unit that divided off the
last section. There were floor to ceiling windows all along the back wall that faced a lovely view of the acreage and mountains beyond.
“What’s behind that?” Desiree asked, nodding to the other side of the tall bookcase.
“My bedroom.” He led them back to see.
Tink expected it to be a wreck, but it was as neat and minimalistic as the rest of the place. A platform bed with its head against the bookcase faced a wall of windows. There was a brightly colored rug under it, extending out around it. A nightstand on either side of the bed held lamps. A chair in the corner, piled with a pair of jeans and a discarded flannel shirt was the only disorder in the room.
Tink’s gaze took in those big windows, their curtains pulled back on either side. Tink wondered if Hammer ever used them. From what she’d observed of the man, she didn’t think he was all that shy about his body.
Her gaze strayed to the bed, and she wondered if he slept in the nude. Quickly she turned and walked out of the room.
She heard Desiree ask, “What’s behind that door?”
“Bathroom,” Hammer answered.
Tink wondered if his bathroom was as neat as the rest of the place but refused to go look.
“Wow, nice,” Sherry said. Tink stood in the dining area, her eyes roaming over the bookcase. There were stacks of motorcycle magazines, some framed photos of family and some of the guys in the club, one with a line of them standing in front of some canyon, another with them with their arms around each other, grinning like idiots.
She couldn’t help but smile at that.
Open on the dining table was a J&P Cycles parts catalog and a notepad with some numbers jotted down. Probably parts he needed for the work-in-process out in the yard. She mused at this new bizarro world she found herself in where Hammer had a baby, and she was here inside his home—a place she’d sworn she’d never visit. She was exposing herself to her major temptation—a temptation from which she’d sworn she’d keep her distance. Footsteps behind her had her spinning.
“I’ll get the pack-n-play out of the trunk of the car and bring it in,” Hammer said. “We can set it up in the bedroom. Like I said, hopefully the boy’s mom will be back soon.”
“So, what’s the story on that? Shades didn’t tell us a whole lot. Or aren’t we supposed to ask?” Sherry inquired.
Hammer ran his hand over his jaw. “How about I get the kid’s gear set up, and then we can sit and talk?” He went outside and they all moved toward the couches to wait.
Sherry set the baby down, and Ethan immediately toddled around the coffee table and began playing with a deck of cards that sat on it. He moved them one at a time out on the table and then swiped his arm, knocking them onto the floor and laughing.
Hammer lugged in the pack-n-play and set it up in the bedroom, then returned to the car and brought in a highchair, a couple of bags of clothes, and the baby’s supplies.
“I never knew kids needed so damn much stuff.”
“Hey, little cornstalks have big ears,” Tink reminded him.
Hammer frowned. “Say what?”
She nodded to the baby. “Don’t swear in front of him. Kids pick that stuff up.”
“Oh, sorry. You’re right. I guess I say shit like that a lot. Crap, I did it again.”
The girls giggled.
Sherry searched through one of the bags and brought over some toys. “Here, Ethan, want to play with your blocks?”
He continued to toss the cards on the floor and then pick them up.
“Seems he’s having more fun with the cards.” Hammer smirked.
Ethan started to fold one of them.
“As long as you don’t mind him destroying them,” Tink added.
Hammer chuckled. “He’s fine. There are probably four more decks in the bookcase.”
“You must host a lot of poker games.”
“Guilty as charged. The boys come over now and then. You ladies want something to drink?” He pushed the sleeves of his thermal shirt up his forearms. Tink’s gaze dropped to the ink revealed on his muscled arms. She’d always had a thing for men’s arms. They were just so masculine and different from girls’.
“What do you have?” Desiree asked.
Hammer sauntered into the kitchen and around a bar top counter that separated it from the living room. He opened the refrigerator and peered inside. “Got beer, OJ, Mountain Dew, bottled water, and grape Nehi.”
“Grape Nehi?” Tink chuckled, moving to lean her folded arms on the bar top. “I didn’t know they still made that stuff.
“They do, and it’s awesome,” Hammer defended. “Don’t knock the Nehi.”
Tink scrunched up her nose. “I’ll have a Mountain Dew.”
“I’ll have a water,” Desiree said.
“Same,” Sherry replied.
After he passed out the drinks, Hammer popped the top on a bottle of beer, and his eyes connected with Tink’s as he tilted it back.
She watched his throat work as he drank. She knew she should look away but couldn’t.
He tilted the bottle down. “So, what’s your secret pleasure?”
She swallowed, her mind going where it shouldn’t. Her voice was a squeak when she replied. “What?”
“Mine’s grape Nehi. What’s yours?”
“Oh. Um…I don’t really have one.”
“Bullshit,” Sherry replied. “It’s Raisinets. She eats ‘em by the handful.”
“Traitor.”
Sherry stuck her tongue out at her.
Hammer’s eyes swept down her. “You’d never know it by lookin’ at you. It sure doesn’t show.”
“That’s because she has the metabolism of a hummingbird. She can eat whatever she wants, the bitch.”
“Sherry! The baby!” Tink hissed.
“Right, sorry.”
Hammer chuckled.
“So where’s your sister?” Sherry asked.
Hammer’s smile faded. “She got into drugs in high school. She’s had a rough life. When she had the baby, she cleaned up her act for the most part. At least we thought she had.” He ran a hand down the back of his neck. “I’m pretty sure she’s using again, up to her old tricks.”
“I’m sorry,” Tink whispered.
He nodded. “It’s a cycle with her. I think having Ethan so young, she feels she’s missed out on her youth. I’d hoped she outgrew the partying, but I guess not. She’s got a lot of pain she’s burying. Stuff from her childhood. I don’t really want to get into it, but she deserved better. I know what she’s doing is wrong, but I feel for her, ya know? Deck was stacked against her from the beginning.”
“I hope you find her soon,” Tink said. “Not because I don’t want to help you, but because I think Ethan needs her.”
“He does.” Hammer’s jaw set. “I’ll bring her back soon. I won’t stop searching for her until I find her. That’s a promise.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tink pulled up the drive to her parents’ home. By any standards, the place defined old Southern charm. The drive was red brick pavers that led to a circular area in front of the house. Seven brick steps led up to the veranda where four Doric columns soared two stories high to hold the extended roof. The multi-paned, floor-to-ceiling windows had black wooden shutters that were functional, not just decorative like so many homes. The landscaping held manicured shrubs, flowerbeds, and an old magnolia tree that her grandmother had planted in 1928, or so the story went.
Tink parked and took a deep breath before opening the car door. She always had to prepare herself to deal with her family, especially when her sister was around.
Tink’s father came from a long line of respected doctors, and he’d carried on the tradition. The house had been in his family for generations, and while the family wasn’t part of any elite social class, they had one of the most historic properties in the city, and that made her father feel just as worthy as the snobs he longed to rub shoulders with. Tink was glad she’d never been expected to be some kind of debutant with a coming
out ball and the whole she-bang. God, she would have hated that.
Raven, on the other hand would have killed for that. She would have loved to look down her nose at other girls. Hell, if Raven had run with that crowd she would have ruled it like Scarlet O’Hara—the mean side that would backstab anyone who got in her way.
Raven could care less about this place and did nothing but complain about it. It was too hot in summer and cold in winter; the plumbing was ancient, and the floors were no longer level.
All Tink saw was the romance of the place—the tall windows, the dark floors polished to a satiny shine, the high ceilings, and the historic paintings that hung in every room. She loved it all. She just wished she didn’t feel so out of place in this family. It was a feeling that had caused tension for her since she was a little girl. She just never felt like she fit. She didn’t look like the rest of them, she didn’t act like the rest of them, and she didn’t think like the rest of them.
She often wondered if she’d been adopted. Raven had teased and tormented her with the fact often enough. She could still hear her sister’s young voice ringing in her ears. You were adopted, Alexandra. Mama found you on the doorstep and took pity on you, Alexandra. You aren’t a real DuPont, Alexandra.
Tink took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to remember her meditation skills. She refused to be sucked down into that endless cycle of low self-esteem and depression. She’d clawed her way out of that hole, and she had no intention of slipping back into it.
She shouldered the car door open and got out. It was early fall, but the honeysuckle vines were still in bloom. She breathed them in. She would always associate that scent with home.
She climbed the steps and used the key she still had. A soft, melodic chime sounded throughout as the door opened. She stepped into a wide entry hallway with rooms on both sides.
“Alexandra, is that you?” Her mother’s voice echoed from a room down the hall.
“Yes, Mama.” The smell of Chicken Divan and She-crab soup reached her nose. The one extravagance her father allowed her mother was the full-time cook and housekeeper. Ada had been with them since before Tink was born. She remembered many happy afternoons helping in the kitchen while Ada whipped up one of her amazing recipes. Tink loved to help and had learned all of them. She’d become an excellent cook.
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