by V. Theia
“Not in so many words, but I knew, I could feel it. He didn’t act like a man in love should.” Shrugging, she nibbled on a fry before she reached over and slopped it through a puddle of syrup on his plate. That too went into her mouth.
Texas watched the whole thing and he licked his lips.
She was cute, no getting around that.
But as far as him getting involved in whatever drama she had going on, and it sounded like a fuck ton, he didn’t have time for that.
His plan was to get her out of this hole and then get his ass back to the Carolinas.
He was happy there.
Or as happy as he could be.
He was getting to the point where he accepted his fate and was adjusting to his new life.
Being back here, knowing his brothers were not far was fucking with his head.
Add to that a crying woman and he was having a bad day.
“He didn’t want sex,” she blurted. And immediately turned red.
Not a cute pink blush, or an aroused flush.
Nope, Penelope’s whole face turned as red as Santa’s fucking pants.
Texas’ mouth curled at the edge and he copied her by swimming a bunch of fries through the syrup and tossed them into his mouth, damn that was good.
He repeated the motion before cutting into a thick slab of his pancake towers.
“You try sex toys?” He offered helpfully and watched her laugh, wiping a napkin under her eyes.
“Oh, shut up, funny guy. I didn’t want sex either, but he’s the guy, he’s supposed to want it all the time. I told him I didn’t want to sleep together until we were married and he just accepted it. Who does that?”
“Back up, you never slept with him and he was fine with the no nookie before marriage?” She nodded miserably, sharing his syrup again.
She even picked off a piece of his pancake and started eating.
“I mean, he tried a couple of times, but it wasn’t much of an effort. Almost like he thought he should.”
“He cheating on you?”
She looked up, startled and mid-chew. “That should hurt me, right? To think of him cheating if he’s not getting sex from me. But I don’t feel anything, Tait. I didn’t want to marry him.”
“Okay, so that’s why you left. You haven’t told me why here.”
“I heard Malachai talking about you at my rehearsal dinner.”
“He was there?”
“Yeah, him and Addison. You know how she’s friends with my cousins.” She scrunched her nose sourly, giving Texas the impression she didn’t care for his sister in law.
It somehow pleased him.
“Then when I was at the airport with nowhere to go, I thought of you. And here I am. I’ll be a great houseguest, Tait. You won’t even know I’m here. I can cook. Okay, I can’t cook all that well, but I’ll learn, just you see. I can clean too.”
She talked as if it were a done deal.
Texas inhaled. “Listen, Penelope.”
“Oh, great,” she huffed, abandoning what food she had left by pushing it away. “The listen Penelope speech. I’ve heard this before. You don’t want me around? Just say it.” she all but threw herself from the stool and stomped across the loft to yank up her purse and the white clothes bag. “I’ll go right now. I know when I’m not wanted. We used to be friends, or I thought we were. Whatever, have a nice life, bearded biker.”
“Penelope.”
“What?”
“Sit down.”
She huffed, and it was then he noticed how bright her eyes had become.
Like the fire had put life into her.
It didn’t so much as stir Texas as it did pulse warming interest in his chest.
Fine, her pissed off temper tantrum face stirred him a little, but he was still a goddamn man who could appreciate a woman. But getting stirred up for a woman from his old life was not ever gonna be on his cards because that meant he’d have to at some point deal with that life and he’d rather have Hawk cut off his ears with a rusty blade.
The brother would do it too. The VP had a conscience as much as a dung beetle did. That’s to say, he didn’t and Texas had always admired that about Hawk. He traveled his own path, as morally cold as it was.
He must be bent in the head if he was thinking fondly of Hawk. Fuck.
“I’m leaving. I know when I’ve worn out my welcome. Not that you welcomed me in, whatever. Goodbye, Tait. Have a nice life.”
Fucks sake, she was dramatic as they come.
No wonder Axel didn’t lay a finger on her, it was a wonder they got a word in edgewise. It should have been Axel paying him to take her off their hands.
Raising his voice, he pointed a finger at the stool. “Sit the fuck down, Penelope. I won’t say it again.”
She stalled in her step and glared at him, he saw the disobedience in her eyes, as if she wanted to say all kinds of shit.
He’d been around candid, brash club groupies for years.
He couldn’t say if they were his flavor or not.
The women he’d spent time with on his travels these past few months had been, in a word, forgettable. Not as though they shared many conversations to determine how mouthy they were.
“Why? You don’t want me here.” Her bottom lip quivered.
“I bought you, little girl. You belong to me. Now sit your little ass the fuck down, we’re not done talking.”
He had no clue how she dropped her things, got back on the stool and sat there quietly. By some miracle, he supposed, because there was nothing quiet going on in her eyes.
Hell no, she was blazing behind the pupils, probably organizing his death.
He’d had a long ride, paid over the fucking odds for her freedom and now he wanted to sit, eat some food and not deal with the drama this little girl was bringing.
He could eat.
The drama was staying.
He must need a lobotomy, that was for damn sure.
For a man who’d been in control of his life for years, this last one felt like he’d been on a permanent rollercoaster, just hanging on by his nails, in hopes of not dying.
He’d fucked up.
Lost everything that meant anything decent to him.
And now he was living alone with those consequences.
Maybe if he helped someone else out it would appease the gaping hole in his soul.
“Eat your meal. You can stay. Until we can figure out what you want to do.”
The glee on her face about did him in.
When was the last time he made anyone genuinely happy?
Not his family
Not his brother.
Not the woman he thought he loved.
Penelope started chewing on the food like she was in a pie eating contest.
He got back to his pancakes and wondered…
In a one bedroom apartment where the fuck was he going to put a socialite princess?
SEVEN
“Blast from the not too distant past.” – Rider
“I can take the couch,” She said for the millionth time that night.
“The bed,” was all Tait kept repeating monosyllabic like, as if he’d forgotten how other words worked.
He’d already changed the sheets.
She silently watched him take a load of laundry through to the utility room, then he tossed their dinner plates into the dishwasher and wiped down the countertops before taking out the trash.
She’d never been around such a domesticated man before.
Everyone she knew, including boyfriends, fiancé, father and uncles, relied on staff to do everything for them. God forbid someone break a nail by opening their own beer bottle.
What was she saying? They wouldn’t drink beer, too common as one boyfriend exclaimed. What a pussy.
Nor had she ever concentrated on a man’s neck so much. Jeez.
It was thick and strong and her eyes constantly strayed to it, wondering how it would feel under her hands…her lips. If he owned scarves
or turtleneck sweaters, they needed to be donated because it would be a crying shame to cover up such sexiness.
Anyway, that’s how she ended up in the middle of Tait’s bed, swamped in one of his old t-shirts for a nightie.
He’d about frog marched her through the doorway in efforts to probably get her out of his sight.
She could hear him walking around outside of the bedroom, she’d left the door slightly ajar, not too sissy to admit the dark bothered her sometimes.
She listened long after his noises stopped.
He must be on the couch, she thought. The couch, although lovely, one of those L-shaped sectionals, it was far too small for a man like Tait to sleep longer than a power nap.
More than an hour later, she couldn’t settle.
It was well after midnight and she was too jittery to cozy down in the comfortable bed and sleep.
Maybe it was all that syrup she’d eaten from Tait’s plate keeping her awake, but she slid out of bed and crawled to sit at the bottom with her feet just barely touching the carpeted floor.
It was far too quiet.
And her brain was extra busy.
Did she really run out of her two hundred thousand dollar wedding like that?
Was she really sort of kidnapped for a week?
Did a guy who didn’t really know her anymore buy her back and then put her in his bedroom?
She could be hallucinating. Weddings brought on that kind of stress.
No one back home would believe a word of it.
Oh, it’s just Penelope being silly again.
Silly Penelope was how everyone thought of her when she dared to have her own thoughts and ideas.
One thought though kept circling back and that was registering the look on Tait’s face the couple of times he mentioned his MC.
Roux explained this past week what it all meant, the hierarchy, and the importance of the MC to each brother. That’s what they called each other. They weren’t blood, but they were loyal. Roux said even closer than birth family sometimes.
Why had he been away for months, why was his house locked up the way it was?
Why did he look sad as a box full of abandoned kittens when he mentioned his club?
“Hey, Tait, are you awake?” She yelled through the door loud enough to wake the neighbors.
“If I wasn’t, I would be now. What is it, Poppy?”
She smiled at the sound of his sigh.
He’d grown into a middle-aged grumpy old man.
“Why were you away?”
After forever, he finally answered. “Had to get away.”
“Are you still in the motorcycle gang? Roux told me how those places work, it’s more than just a job, it’s a family, right?”
Oh, this time his sigh was a gust and almost blew the bedroom door off. She had the urge to go to him and make the sadness in his voice disappear. “Yeah, it’s a family. And no, I’m no longer a patched in member.”
“Why not?”
“Poppy, it’s late. Go to sleep.”
“But I want to know.”
“You can’t always get what you want.” Came his reply and she heard the creaking of the couch and then another groan from him, probably because the couch was too small for the likes of that god-made body.
“I claimed my asylum with you, didn’t I?” She boasted and heard him chuckle. It was low, but it definitely was a chuckle.
“Go to sleep, little girl. I’m fucking wiped, I rode all day to buy your ass back.”
Her skin bristled.
Not from anger.
Oh, no.
She turned hot so fast at his words, it was a wonder her hair didn’t catch fire, she put her hands up to her cheeks to feel the warmth.
He owned her.
Why did that archaic thought appeal?
She should be objecting, right?
It was barbaric to be owned by another person.
Only, her racing veins didn’t seem to mind one bit.
“I am not property,” she croaked an attempt at a protest, holding both hands over her beating heart.
“Sleep.” Was the last thing he said to her that night.
And she did sleep, a long time later, after she snuggled down into Tait’s bed, with Tait’s soft pillows and checked her phone.
No new messages.
Not from her mom or dad or even her group of friends.
No, they wouldn’t, she thought bitterly.
Because she’d gone against the cleverly crafted blueprint that was set out from birth.
Stay in line, do as you’re told and absolutely don’t question anything.
Ronnie’s days old messages, weak as they were, not one of them begged or pleaded for her to call him, they still sat there unanswered and she didn’t feel the need to reply.
She fell asleep in a strange bed, in a strange apartment with the boy she had a crush on years ago sleeping in the next room.
And Penelope felt wildly free for the first time in forever.
* * *
“You need clothes. Do you argue about everything?” Texas questioned, trying not to notice the bare legs and perky tits standing so close to him, smelling like his bed sheets.
The morning started an hour ago, he was at the stove making eggs he’d run down to the store to grab, when Poppy stumbled out of his room. Her hair a mess around her face, pillow marks on her cheeks and those legs of hers bare.
Sure, his shirt covered some of them. It swamped her tinier frame, but still, he was looking at her legs too fucking close for his liking.
She’d protested when he said he’d take her to get some clothes.
“Do you like wearing other people’s stuff?”
She frowned and picked at the hem of his shirt. He meant Roux’s clothes, not his. He didn’t want to dig into why he didn’t mind seeing her in his t-shirt.
He kept on having to remind himself that probably one day soon she’d trot her little brat ass back to Harrison and into the arms of her sexless fiancé, no matter what hungry little glances she was sending his way, he was not picking up that signal.
Not for a woman from his old life.
No matter how cute she looked or how much the center of his palms itched to slide up those bare legs.
Texas was no saint, far from it, but putting his head back in that familiar noose … he would have to be raving fucking mad.
She was no Addison, that much he could tell.
If Penelope had a manipulative bone in her body, then she was some actress.
But it was more than obvious she’d go back home after she realized her mistake.
For now he’d given her a roof and was indulging her rebellion.
“Well, I’d prefer my own, just because they fit. Plus, I only have two outfits from Roux, and I already wore one, so I need to do laundry today, if that’s okay.” She posed it like it was a question, even though she’d already helped herself to the coffee and a piece of toast he was making for himself.
“Then we’ll get you some clothes and don’t give me that money bullshit again. I already laid down 100k for you, what’s a few thousand more for you to have fucking underwear.”
Yeah, he’d noticed that too when she went up on her tiptoes to reach a cup from the cabinet, the shirt skimmed the meaty cheek of her ass, showing she was bare.
His fucking tongue nearly curled up in his throat.
“Why don’t you ever come home?” She asked, sipping on a coffee he’d made for her.
“It’s not my home anymore.”
“I get that, people move away, but you don’t come back for the holiday’s or visits. You didn’t come for your father’s 60th birthday party. The mayor was there.”
Not a surprise. His father knew a lot of influential people Texas couldn’t stand.
“If you haven’t already guessed, I don’t get on with them anymore. They made themselves clear when I left. I’m good with it.”
“We’re both orphans now,” she declared dramatically, hol
ding a triangle of toast with egg balanced on the top.
Texas’ mouth split with a half grin.
Seriously, he was demented taking this girl in, but he didn’t have it in him to toss her out.
He knew how that felt.
Still feeling it even now months later.
He wondered how the boys and their old ladies were doing. Snake must have his twins by now, he wondered about them too and the brothers he’d raised.
Life was ticking on for everyone, new shit happening for Penelope, whatever the girl decided to do with her life, most probably go back to Harrison to become a boring housewife with no opinion of her own. But if that was her choice, that would be the decision she’d have to deal with in time.
While Texas was stuck in place.
He got the first idea how things were in his old life not two hours later when he took a walk with Penelope, dressed in her borrowed clothes, down to main street.
The winter sun didn’t bring any warmth and he heard her teeth chattering at his side. Frowning, he looked down and yep, she was almost fucking blue. He’d already given her one of his hoodies and she wore a pair of his thick socks.
Instantly he shrugged out of the jacket and held it out for her to slide her arms in.
“But you’ll be cold.”
“Arms, Poppy.”
He stood there in the middle of the sidewalk and zipped it right to her chin, before he reached back and untucked the swath of hair caught in the collar.
“Probably good you came running to me, you’d perish by yourself. Who runs away and doesn’t pack a bag? A coat even.”
She huffed and glared up at him, her eyes coming to life again. Fuck, he could get addicted to that … if he cared to rile her up, which he did not.
“Did you not hear the story? It was a spur of the moment decision, Tait Hunt. I did not stop to pack a bag or even my tampons.”
Jesus. “I am not getting your red rags, little girl, you’re on your own for those.”
It was while she was giggling and his arm touching her shoulder that he saw them.
Across the street looking his way, probably Poppy’s laugh brought their gazes to them.
His whole middle section of his body started to churn meeting the eyes of his former president and friend.
Rider was holding Zara’s hand, looked like they’d just come from the doctor’s office.