by Moxie North
“Oh, I like that Libby girl. Her man? Whoo-ey. A man like that? I’d dust off the cobwebs for a chance at him.” Ethel gave a nudge to Claire.
“Eww, no old-lady sex talk. You know the rules!” Pru resisted covering her ears with her hands and humming the theme song to Gilligan’s Island.
“Oh, we were quite the scandal’s pair in our younger days. You think we just hung around darning socks? We kept this town on its toes. In fact, I think there was one Sunday the reverend gave a whole sermon about us. Not mentioning our names of course, but everyone knew,” Claire said with much glee.
“You two are too much. I’m off; you okay closing up?”
“I think we can manage locking the door and turning out the light. What are we, a hundred?” Ethel gave Prudence a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know, are you?” she replied, sticking out her tongue.
She heard Claire snicker and Ethel sigh as she waved to the ladies and left through the front door. She had all of her projects in a backpack that was so worn it looked like it would bust at the seams under a strong wind. Over the years as it got a tear or the threading started to shred, she’d repaired it with patches from the thrift store. There were always bags of old patches in the shapes of smiley faces and rainbows that someone didn’t want anymore.
Prudence had gotten the backpack for her first day of junior high. Every year her mother tried to replace it and Pru insisted there was no reason to replace something that worked just fine. She carried it all through high school and on into college. It was the same pack she’d used while she was in South America. It had become an old friend.
It had been four days since she was last at the rehab center. After her initial meeting with Maverick, she swore to herself that she was going to push him out of her mind. That worked for a while, and then she went to sleep. She dreamed about the man with blue eyes and wild brown hair. Her mind conjured up what it would feel like to run her hands over that stubbled jaw, dragging her nails through the short beard. After that, her dreams got a little more interesting. So interesting she woke up covered in sweat with her pussy aching and pulsing.
It had been a while since Pru could remember having a sex dream. She was an open-minded girl that believed in sex with anyone that matched her needs. Her parents had been determined to keep her pure, presumably to marry her off to a respectable family. Prudence, despite her name, thought her parents lived in a world far past its prime and patriarchal to the extreme. Being a practical person, she chose to negate her virginity with her high school sweetheart. They had discussed it for a few months and planned for the event. Pru had purchased the condoms and since she was already on birth control, felt reasonably protected.
They had met up after school one day that her parents were out of town. They fumbled and kissed on her twin bed with the matching canopy in yellow flowers that her mother had coordinated to the rest of her room. It was a pleasurable if not fast ten minutes. She broke up with him a few months later and it was all very amicable. They’d stayed friends and now worked together on the Port May Coalition for Reduction in Greenhouse Gases.
Now Pru was thinking about sex while riding a bike. That was a little too cliché even for her.
Focusing on the scenery, she waved at everyone she passed whether she knew them or not. She got awkward waves or sometimes frowns. But Pru didn’t let that deter her. She always hoped that maybe just one of those people really needed a smile that day. That another human being communicating with them, even from afar, would give them a little hope.
If the man Maverick was there today, she was going to put on her shiniest smile and find a way to crack that shell.
Now that she knew he was in a motorcycle club, she was even more determined to get him to like her. She imagined he was surrounded by a bunch of guys a lot like him. Living hard and fast, someone like her would look like a ridiculous bit of fluff. That was okay. Pru thought the world could use a little more softness.
She parked her bike on the rack outside and locked it up. She believed in the good in people, but she wasn’t naive. She really didn’t want to walk home.
Pru pushed open the door and saw Mr. Gill behind the counter. This time he gave her a smile when he saw her.
“Nice to see you, Ms. Boyer.”
“Hello, Mr. Gill. I have a few things made up. If anyone is here I’d like to show them what we have so far. If they aren’t could I leave them with you?”
“Of course, we have a full house today. Nobody wants to do rehab right before the weekend. Puts them in a bad mood.”
“I can understand that.”
Prudence gave Mr. Gill another smile as she walked through and scanned the room. She found the two older ladies that were recovering from falls sitting on recumbent bikes chatting. She pulled out two shoulder shawls that her group knitted up in super soft wool. They added hooks on the front so they would stay secure on the ladies. They were so excited to try them out they put them on while they were still pedaling.
She had to keep her giggles to herself. The two ladies now looked like they were wearing capes. She guessed to be smiling like that made them superheroes.
Prudence went through to the next room and found Erin. She showed her the sleeve she made for her. Erin put it on and immediately sighed.
“Oh my, that’s soft.”
“It’s nothing fancy, but I reversed all the seams so they hopefully won’t rub. Let me know if we need to make any changes. We can do this over and over until we get it right. I want you to be happy.” Prudence wanted to clap her hands at the look on Erin’s face. The woman was happy and smiling.
“I needed a pick-me-up today. Thank you, Prudence.”
“Anytime,” she said. She really wanted to give the woman a hug, but didn’t want to push it.
“You want a hug don’t you?” Erin said, eyeing her.
“Sorry, I’m a hugger. Always have been,” Prudence said with a shrug.
“Come on, get in here,” Erin said, opening her arms.
Prudence wrapped her up and gave her a big squeeze.
The two giggled a little and then Prudence let her get on with her therapy.
She made her way into the back and scanned the room, looking for the man that was starring in her dreams the last few nights. There was no sign of him and she felt a little disappointment. She squared her shoulders and made note of who she needed to leave items for. Leaning over one of the tables, Pru was writing down some notes when out of the corner of her eye she saw the door open.
The hair on her arms rose up and she knew, deep down, that it was him. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he had stopped right inside the door. His piercing eyes were directly on her. He seemed to be panting like he had just run in. His chest was pulling in deep breaths as his eyes scanned her up and down.
Today he was wearing a pair of long jeans over black boots. He had on a white t-shirt and a black leather vest over the top that had a number of patches spread over it. She could see his name near his shoulder. Under it read Sergeant at Arms. Prudence didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded important.
All she could do was stare back at him. He was just as handsome as she remembered. Today his long hair was combed back like it was still wet from a shower. His jawline was still somewhere between five o’clock shadow and a full beard. Those eyes were still the crystal blue that were burned into her memory.
“You.”
Prudence felt herself jerk at the harsh sound. His tone was accusatory and she didn’t know why, but it pissed her way the hell off.
“What is your problem? Is it a woman thing? Or are you just an asshole to everyone?” Prudence’s inner voice was telling her she was taking a risk, but Pru had gotten too wound up over this guy that she didn’t even know.
She saw his eyes crinkle like he was going to grin, but then his jaw tightened. “I’m an asshole to everyone.”
“Gee, thanks for clearing that up. Just because you don’t want my help doesn’t mean you
have to be rude. I’ve never done anything to you. In fact, you’ve met me for all of three minutes and were a dick.”
“I might have been short, but you’ve called me an asshole and a dick in the matter of a few seconds.”
Prudence opened her mouth, then closed it again. He was right; she was name-calling and that was beneath her. For some reason this man got her more riled up than someone who tried to defend wearing fur.
The immediate feelings of shame hit her hard and she felt her eyes tear up. This was not going well at all.
“Fuck,” the man ground out and took large strides until he reached her.
Prudence found herself in the middle of a strong hug. His arms were strong and warm and he smelled like pine needles and soap. Her face was pushed up against his chest and she froze the moment he touched her. This was a huge invasion of personal space, but it still felt good. It felt like she’d hugged him a million times. Like it was her favorite place to be.
Chapter 12
Shit, fucking hell, dumb motherfucker.
Maverick had spent the last few days getting some perspective. That meant parking his furry ass in the woods and telling his wolf they were not going to go anywhere near town. His wolf didn’t like it and made sure to let his displeasure be known.
It didn’t matter. He swore he was going to spend his life living for his club and his pack. He’d gotten to a place where he thought his animal was resigned enough that they could head into town to get his new socket.
Driving into town, he saw a girl in bright-colored clothes riding an even brighter bicycle. It was her, he knew it was. His truck almost drove itself to the curb so he could jump out and snatch her up. But she wasn’t his to snatch. Instead, he drove past but kept his eyes on her in the rearview mirror. Who the hell had an orange and pink bicycle?
Of course, she would be there. Of-fucking-course. The chance she was on her way somewhere else was too easy a way out for him.
He was right the first time he met her. He couldn’t touch her. Touching her would change everything. Now her soft body was tucked into his—her head coming right under his chin, her cheek pressed against his chest, like she was made to fit there. His wolf sent up a howl of conquest in his head. Asshole thought that they could have her now. That just because her sweet crisp scent was filling their nose, they could keep her.
There was no keeping her.
Maverick pushed her back from him, but kept his hands on her upper arms. He wasn’t ready to have her too far away. It was a compromise for his wolf.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to…grab you.”
He watched the woman smile up at him. “It’s okay. You know most people call those hugs, not grabs.”
Maverick grunted. “Depends on your perspective I guess.”
“True. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Oh shit, I didn’t mean foot, I mean, I meant...”
He watched the woman turn an adorable shade of pink. He liked the color rising up in her cheeks. It made him think of her lying under him, flushed and panting.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not that sensitive. In fact, I’m always up for a good amputee joke.”
“I... uh, don’t know any of those,” she stammered.
“I don’t suspect you do. You here doing good works again?”
Maverick asked the question as he pushed himself away from her. He leaned back against one of the tables and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I don’t know about good works. But I am delivering some completed projects. Still don’t have anything you want me to make for you?”
Such a simple question. His mind went straight to make me hard, make me come, make me babies, then make me dinner. Not what a progressive-minded man would think, but then Maverick was a man that thought a man’s job was to take care of a woman. Feed her, clothe her, provide a roof over her head, buy her whatever shit she wanted to buy, and give her multiple orgasms. He never found women to be that complicated. His father had taught him at a young age to respect his mother and his sister and that women were the strongest because they carried so much. It was the men’s job to support them.
Every Sunday morning his father would take him outside to play so his mom could sleep in. He told him that women would always short themselves sleep to get things done and they needed to play catch-up at least once a week. That when they wanted alone time, it was always wise to give it to them. And finally, to never let his mom or any of the pack’s females get to the point where they were truly hungry. Everything went to hell when the women in his house got hungry.
His parents were in a loving, equal marriage. It was clear to see that for all his father did, his mother gave more in return. It was in her nature to take care of her family and she loved it. Maverick loved her because she provided the model he knew he would base a mate on.
Now he was standing in front of a woman that not only was his mate, but selflessly came into a potentially hostile environment all to knit fucking hats.
“I don’t need anything. I’m lucky; my wounds healed well. I’m done with rehab. I just come in when I need an adjustment.”
“That’s good. I mean I’m glad you are better,” she said quietly. Maverick could see she still wasn’t comfortable talking about it.
“It’s okay, you know. I can tell you, at least for me, I like straight talk. Life is what it is, no sense in pussyfooting around it. I lost my leg and I use one made out of titanium, and soon to be silicone. I do just fine like I am. I don’t need any pity.” That came out a little harsher than he wanted, but it was a sore subject.
“I don’t pity you. You clearly are strong. You also have that grumpy wall up so high no one would dare try to feel bad for you. I think you act like that so people will think you’re a jerk.”
Maverick saw she was being serious, again fucking cute as hell.
“You’re probably right. Being a dick is often a good way to keep people at a distance.”
He watched her tilt her head to the side as she grabbed one of the schoolgirl braids hanging over her shoulders. “So why aren’t you being a jerk now?”
That was a good question. The answer was straightforward and simple. Telling her was not.
“Because you were trying to be nice the other day and I had no right to act that way. I was mad that I had to come in, and I don’t like meeting pretty girls when I don’t have my leg on.”
Damn, way too much information and totally unlike him. He felt like he could say anything to this woman. She was his mate after all. Theoretically there was nothing that she wouldn’t accept about him. He had to wonder if that only went for shifters that were whole when they met their mates.
“I didn’t think less of you. I’m sorry if I came across that way. I just imagined how painful it must have been. It also made me a little sad.”
Maverick ignored the first part. “Why did it make you sad?” His voice was gruff and low, the wolf lingering close to the surface.
He saw her struggling with her answer. Mav really wanted to hear her reason. He didn’t want her pity—she didn’t know him—so why on earth would she be sad?
She bit her lip for a moment as she continued to twirl her hair. “When I first saw you, I thought you were handsome. Then when I saw your leg, I thought you were handsome and brave. I felt bad that you got hurt and that you felt uncomfortable with me being here. It really wasn’t what I wanted, to make anyone feel bad. I was hoping to help, and I think I have for some people.”
“I’m sure you have. I see Erin has a smile on her face today. That is something new for her.”
“I like her. She’s nice. Would you like to go out for coffee or tea sometime?” Pru blurted the last part out like it was a reactionary question instead of something she planned out.
He could tell she was nervous asking the question. He wanted more than coffee or tea. He wanted all her meals, every second of her waking hours, and the ones when she was asleep too.
“I don’t do coffee.” He wasn’t sure why
he said that. It sounded stupid even to his own ears.
“Oh, well. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask if you were married.”
“No, not married. All of my time is taken up by my club.”
“I see by your jacket. You ride?”
Maverick let his mouth slip into a grin. “Yeah, darlin’, I ride.”
He saw that blush hit her cheeks when he called her darlin’. She really wasn’t making this easy.
“So I heard your last name is Hale?”
“You heard that did you?”
“Oh, well, yes. I work for Port May’s biggest gossips. I’m sorry; they told me a bit about you.”
“Did they now? Mind telling me what they had on me?” Maverick figured they couldn’t know too much about him. It wasn’t like he advertised anything about his personal life. The club and pack made sure that keeping a secret was locked in stone.
“Just your name and that you are part of Redemption. I’ve heard about your club before. I think everyone in Port May has seen you riding through town.”
“You’re not scared of bikers, are you?”
He watched her giggle. “Oh no, one of my friends is married to a…well, not a biker. I mean he rides a motorcycle. I don’t think that classifies him as a biker per se.”
“No it doesn’t, per se.” He wasn’t mocking her. He just wanted to tease her a bit. The battle within him to push her away and pull her closer was raging inside.
“She said she loved that he rode when they met. Now he usually takes the family car since they had a baby.”
“Car seats don’t really fit on the back of a bike, even with a sissy bar.”
“Sissy bar? That doesn’t sound very nice,” she said with a frown.
“If you need something to lean back on, some might call you a sissy. Sitting bitch isn’t easy, but there can be a little dignity to it.”
“Sitting bitch?” There was a bit of a squeak to her voice that had his wolf sitting up and begging.