Hard Drifter

by Debra Kayn

  "You're going to love this." She took two Hershey candy bars out of the sack and broke them into bite size pieces and added them to the bowls before tossing him a bag of marshmallows. "Can you stick three on each stick?"

  He chuckled. "S'mores ice cream?"

  "Trust me, it's better this way than the already made kind." She walked around the kitchen island. "While we roast, the ice cream gets soft. Once the marshmallows are toasted, we add them to the bowl, stir, and eat."

  He slid the door open and walked to the fire pit with her, handing her one of the roasting sticks. She squatted down beside the fire ring and stuck her marshmallow above the flames. He stood and leaned over because he enjoyed the view from above. A woman. A fire. Her smile.

  "Do you do this often?" He took in her purple painted nails and wondered what it'd feel like to have her rake his back with her fingers.

  "Once in a while." She glanced up at him. "But never over a real fire. I use the gas burner on my stove and a marshmallow on a fork. It's not nearly as much fun as the real deal."

  "You have a backyard. It's not hard to put in a pit, or you could buy one of those free-standing fire pits. Roasting is better with wood than on a stove with gas." He rotated his wrist when flames developed on the marshmallow, and he brought up the end of the stick and blew the flames out before putting it back above the fire to get the other side.

  Lena lifted and blew the flames off her marshmallow. "You like yours burnt, too?"

  "Only way to eat them," he said.

  He'd made her smile.

  Because he was watching her, he missed the moment his marshmallows caught on fire again.

  "Better hurry before they drop off." She pointed at his stick.

  He jerked the flaming balls up and lost one in the fire. Lena laughed. He blew and eyed the marshmallows on her stick safely out of harm's way.

  She stood and grabbed his hand. "Let's get these inside before they lose their warmth."

  Inside the house, she used her fingers to pull off each marshmallow into the bowls. Holding her empty, but sticky, hand out to the side, she slid his bowl in front of him. He had something more enticing to eat standing in front of him. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he brought her fingers to his mouth and wrapped his lips around her thumb, slowing sucking the marshmallow off her skin.

  Her brows shot up, and her jaw dropped, opening her mouth. He moved to her index finger, and the weight of her arm became heavier as she succumbed to his tongue stroking and his mouth sucking. He'd always had a craving for sweets, and he could see himself becoming addicted easily if Lena was involved.

  "I...wow." Lena shivered and blinked, breaking eye contact with him. "You don't waste time, huh?"

  He pulled her finger from his mouth. "Not when I know what I want."

  She stepped over to the sink, washed her hands, and dried them on the dish towel. Returning to the kitchen island, she stirred her bowl. Then, she stirred his bowl and brought the spoon up to his mouth.

  "Try it." She gazed at his lips.

  He opened his mouth and leaned forward, closing his lips, then dragging the ice cream off the spoon. While savoring the mixture, even the coldness of the dessert couldn't cool the warmth on his tongue from licking her body.

  She lowered the spoon, raised her hand, and wiped his lower lip with her thumb. "What do you think?"

  He wanted to kiss her again.

  He wanted to get her naked.

  He wanted to put his cock in her pussy.

  "Good," He licked his lips. "Let's take the bowls into the living room. I don't want the ice cream to make you colder outside."

  She followed him into the other room, and after he sat down on the couch, she took the spot next to him. He ate in comfortable silence, content to have Lena near him. Halfway done with his dessert, he looked into her bowl and found her keeping pace with him. That alone impressed him. He enjoyed sharing a meal with a woman, something he hadn't done much of, considering he rarely dated. Usually, a few drinks and music was all that was required to jump into having sex.

  He set the empty bowl on the end table. When she moved to take hers to the kitchen, he took the dish and placed it inside of his, stopping her from leaving.

  "Thanks, for that." He put his arm along the back of the couch and rubbed her neck softly. "It was good."

  She sighed, and her chin dropped lazily to her chest as she let him rubbed her neck. "Tell me something."

  "Okay."

  She turned her head. "How did you get to this place you're at where you ask a woman you'd only met once to come to your house to eat Chinese food outside by a fire?"

  "I liked what I saw last night," he said.

  She straightened her head. "I mean, why hasn't some woman snapped you up? Or, have you gone down that road before and now you're dating?"

  He appreciated her being straightforward. "Never been married. I've had a few relationships over the years that lasted a year or so, but it was more for convenience—"

  "Sex?"

  He chuckled. "You could say that."

  "Hm..." She crossed her legs. "Are you against relationships?"

  "Not that I know," he said, wondering what she was getting at with her questions.

  She turned and kissed him.

  He only got his hand back on her neck to kiss her deeper when she pulled away. "I should go home. It's getting late, and I worked today, so I'm beat. I think the food and your company relaxed me and I'll be able to go home and sleep."

  "Sleep?" He stood following her off the couch. "Do you work tomorrow?"

  She shook her head and grabbed her purse off the chair by the door. "I have the next two days off."

  He leaned against the wall beside the door. "Then, stay."

  She stopped in front of him, put her hand on his chest, and inhaled deeply. "I can't."

  "Are you sure about that?" He was usually good at reading people. Lena wanted to stay. Her questions about what he was after were her way to make an excuse to leave. He couldn't understand what he'd said that turned her away. He'd told the truth.

  "Positive." She stretched to her toes and kissed him. "I like you. A lot. You gave me a date like nothing I've ever had before, and I enjoyed myself. But, I have no interest in being another woman that you collect...for sex."

  "Lena," he muttered.

  "Don't." She placed her finger over his lips. "I'm going to go home, crawl into bed, think about the fun I had with you tonight. I want to remember you, our kiss, and be able to enjoy the excitement I have happening inside of me that is hard to contain when I'm around you."

  "That doesn't sound like you want to walk out the door." He tagged her wrist. "Stay."

  She looked down at where he held her arm. "No," she whispered.

  He let her go.

  Lena opened the door and walked outside. He followed her, staying on the porch. Halfway to her car, she turned around. "I've been in a few relationships, Thad. It's always my fault they end, and I'm okay with that."

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the siding of the house. "Maybe you were dating the wrong men."

  "Maybe." She tilted her head. "I do know what I'm looking for though. If you ever decide you're interested and want to hear me out, you know where I live."

  She turned around and headed toward her car. He stayed where he was, making sure she got in her vehicle okay and watched her back out of his driveway. When he could no longer see any evidence that she'd turn around, change her mind, and spend the night with him, he went back in the house and sat down on the couch.

  Somehow, he'd done most of the talking tonight, giving her parts of his life, while she handed him little about herself. What she'd done was make him more curious.

  Lena Hollis remained a fascinating mystery to him. Her decision to leave, to go against his wishes, only made him more determined to get to know her better.

  Chapter 4

  Going by the number of motorcycles parked in Wayne's driveway, everyone had
arrived for the Notus Motorcycle Club meeting taking place in the garage. Thad walked to the front door, knocked, and let himself in.

  Clara, Gracie, and Ingrid all poked their head out of the kitchen. He lifted his chin at the women, smelling something sweet baking. Gracie held out her hand, offering him a treat. He grinned, plucking the yellow cake-like bar from her.

  "Thanks." He took a bite and headed toward the other end of the house. The sweet and sour mix of lemon hit his tongue, and he licked the powdered sugar off his fingers as he pushed his way into the garage.

  "Thad's finally here," said Chuck, perched on the back of a wooden chair. "Pull up a chair, bro."

  Wayne stood from behind the desk and handed out a paper to everyone. "Since we all voted to take the drifter search, I requested the paperwork we needed. Considering this is a private case, the man—Jack Grayson, knows that if a missing person case comes up with the P.D. and we're asked to help search, our time will be put aside to help the police with a more urgent case first. He's okay with that, though he stressed that the quicker we can find his sister, the better. In the papers I gave you, you'll find the information on Grayson's sister. Thad?"

  "Yeah?" Thad sat in an empty chair.

  Wayne pointed to his copy on the desk and said, "Read the specs."

  Being dyslexic, Wayne never read or filled out any paperwork if he could get someone else to do it for him. Thad glanced at the picture on the top paper. A teenage girl turned sideways from the camera, holding a skateboard, wore a Street Cred hat, hiding her short black hair.

  "This is the best picture we could get?" he asked.

  Wayne shrugged. "Jack Grayson is ten years younger than his sister. He claims there are no family pictures with his sister in them. He only had this one, because he stole it out of his sister's room before she left."

  "That doesn't make sense. What is Grayson eight?" Thad flipped the paper over looking for the age of the missing. "The drifter's name is Jonelle Marie Grayson. She's thirty-four years old. Dark brownish black hair. Brown eyes. Five feet seven inches. At the time of her disappearance..." He scanned down the paper, read the details, and exhaled. "It's been sixteen years since the woman has drifted."

  "Jesus Christ," muttered Glen. "Her kid brother was only eight years old the last time he saw her. What the hell is he going to know about her?"

  "Not much, which is evident in the lack of information he gave us." Wayne pointed at Thad. "Go on and read the rest."

  Thad shook his head. "There's no more concrete information. She's originally from Eugene, Oregon. Jonelle moved out on her eighteenth birthday. Her history with her mother was filled with hostility, anger, and Jack mentions his sister got in trouble a lot as a teenager. Eventually, the sister told her mom she was moving out and never came back. No letter home, no phone call, nothing." Thad flipped the papers over and straightened them into a stack. "No reports were made for a missing person because she was of age and openly left."

  "It's a fucking wild goose chase, Wayne." Chuck shook his head. "We have no idea what the woman looks like now. We can't even do a facial scan and age the picture we received because she's not facing the camera."

  "Jack Grayson is aware the odds of finding his sister are slim." Wayne scratched his beard. "Jack's twenty-four years old. He only wants to make contact with his sister, and he's open to a phone call or location of where she's living. It seems their mother is dying. He needs to deliver a legal paper to his sister upon their mother's death."

  "Hardship case." Thad put down the papers. "How much time does the mom have left?"

  "Less than six months, I believe. She's got cancer," said Wayne.

  "How long is it going to take to find a trail, Chuck?" Glen tongued the toothpick between his teeth.

  Chuck blew out his breath. "A day to put her name through all the search engines, check the national police log, run her details through the system."

  "Okay, we'll go off Chuck's schedule. There's no sense searching until we know more." Wayne thumped his fist against the desk. "One more thing. We need to talk about our search for Rich."

  Thad ran his hand over his face. Not a day went by where he could rid himself of the guilt of Rich leaving St. John's and Notus. It was because of his sister's kidnapping and murder that Rich left. If he'd been able to help his sister before it was too late, he had every belief that Rich and Thalia would be married and have kids right now. They'd both be home in St. John's and Rich would be an active member of Notus MC.

  "The bar owner up above Seattle said Rich was there for a couple of months and then one day he was gone. He sat in the bar, drank, and stayed by himself. Once in a while, he'd walk out of the bar with a woman—a different one each time." Glen crossed his arms. "That matches what we heard in Colorado a few years back."

  "We went up there. There was no sign of him and when pressured the bartender had no proof. He was even unable to tell us more than what we volunteered with our questions about Rich. The closest gas station had one grainy picture on a security tape that looks like it could be him doesn't mean squat. It could've been any man," said Thad.

  "There's also no way to get a fucking pattern of where he'd plan to go to next, or we'd be able to bring his ass home." Chuck walked around the desk. Using his boot, he rolled Wayne out of his way and grabbed a chair and put it in front of the computer.

  Wayne leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. "What do you guys think about putting a call out to all the territorial MC's. We can start with those who run the northwest and inland northwest. Give them a month, and if we don't get word back, we move on to the next three states."

  "We've talked about this before. As much as we want to find Rich, he wouldn't want any eyes on him. We don't know who we can trust or what shape he's in if he finds someone taking a special interest in him." Thad stood from the chair.

  "None of us are getting younger." Wayne paused and looked at each member. "We need him home. Vote."

  "Aye," said Chuck.

  Glen raised his hand. "Aye."

  "Fuck," muttered Thad. "Aye."

  While he hated going against what he believed Rich wanted, he agreed with the others. Rich needed to come home. He at least needed to contact the club. It'd been over twenty-four years since anyone had seen or heard from him.

  "Settled." Wayne stood and checked his phone. "I need to take the twins to the bar. Chuck, call if you find out anything more on the Grayson woman."

  Glen reached out and squeezed Thad's neck. "You okay?"

  Anytime Rich's name came up, the members surrounded Thad as if the heartbreak of losing his sister would set him off. He couldn't run from the pain. His parents still lived in St. John's, surrounded by the streets, people, buildings that held memories of Thalia. The pain never lessened. He just got better at hiding the guilt and anger over failing his sister.

  "Yeah." Thad patted his pocket. "Give me a call if anything develops. I need to run an errand, so I'll be away from the house for the rest of today. Maybe tonight, too."

  "Will do." Glen reached out and grabbed Thad's sleeve. "Wait. You're not coming back tonight and hanging with us?"

  "I don't think so." He grinned. "But, if my plans change, I'll swing by."

  Glen laughed. "What's her name?"

  He shook his head, remaining tight lipped. "See you later."

  Thad walked through the house and out the front door to his Harley. Putting on his helmet, he circled his bike around and rode down the street. While he had the time, he had a woman across town who wanted another date, and he planned on seeing her again.

  Chapter 5

  Lena double tied her running shoes, picked up her iPod, and slid the slim device into the hidden pocket on her joggers. She pushed the earbuds into her ears and started her playlist before pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. From her front door, she could run the length of six blocks and back home again in an hour, completing one and a half miles.

  She picked up the key to the house and slippe
d it into her bra between her breasts and added the mini can of mace to her side pocket. Other women hated any jostling against them when they ran, but she liked music, and she wasn't stupid enough not to have some kind of protection on her.

  Stretching her arms behind her, she walked across the room and opened the door. The chill in the air swept over her, and she inhaled deeply, loving the cooler weather when she exercised. She jogged down the driveway taking note of her neighbors. Mrs. Shop-addict carried her Nordstrom bags into her house across the street. Two doors down, Mr. Big Hat stood at his workbench in his garage, adding another birdhouse to his collection. None of her neighbors had names because she'd never introduced herself to them.

  Preferring to be a loner, she took advantage of watching their lives from the outside. She found it entertaining to look into their houses at night before the drapes were pulled. Nobody ever believed someone was watching them and went about their normal activities. Viewing the behaviors of families who had successfully found love, happiness, and laughter somehow always made her feel better without the added pressure of knowing them personally.

  Though, she never left her curtains open once the street lights came on because she protected her privacy. She never wanted someone to look at her and think she was abnormal.

  At the corner, she looked up and jogged in place as a motorcyclist roared down the street toward her. She watched as he zoomed past her, remembering Thad and fascinated at the dynamics of riding a motorcycle. Something she'd never given much thought to before meeting a biker.

  The rider braked and turned the motorcycle around on the road. She looked in the opposite direction and stayed on the sidewalk in case there was a chance of her getting run over while attempting to cross the street. Instead of going past her, the biker pulled up in front of her and shut off his bike. She backed up, planning to run back to her house and wait until he was out of the area when he called her name.

  She turned back around. The biker took off his helmet. She relaxed and jogged over to him.

  "I didn't know it was you," she blurted, warmed that he was here in front of her.