by Brook Wilder
I swallowed my words though, pushing off her and easing out, finding the condom no longer intact.
Shit.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, her smile fading.
I swallowed. “The condom broke.” It wasn’t the first time this had happened with us. I didn’t know if it was because of the brand I bought or the sheer fact that I went apeshit inside of her.
She let out a nervous laugh. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill, remember?”
Yeah, I knew that. “I’m buying another brand,” I said as I threw the broken one in the trash before climbing in bed with her.
She scooted against me, resting her head on my chest, and I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her tight. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so rough.”
I grinned in the dark, my hand stroking her hair. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so damn enticing.”
Leigh laughed. “The same could be said of you, especially when you wear that shirt.”
She was talking about the shirt she had given me for my birthday a month or so ago, one that she said matched my eyes. “I’ll have to wear it more often then.”
“Oh be still my heart.”
I pinched her side lightly. “Do you really think your interview went well?”
“Yes,” she sighed, her finger drawing circles on my stomach. “He’s retiring at the end of this school year, so I could start as early as the fall. I would like that. I’m kind of partial to my current class and don’t want to dump them midyear.”
How she was a teacher these days, I didn’t know, but I had a ton of respect for her for doing so. Their pay was shitty, and who wanted to deal with other people’s brats?
But Leigh was damn good at what she did, and I was happy for her with this opportunity. She had been through so much and deserved the job.
She deserved a hell of a lot more, including more than the bastard that was in this bed.
“I should go,” she said after a moment. “I’ve got lesson plans to work on.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her to stay. Would she? I liked to think she would.
But if I painted her into a corner of uncertainty, things would get weird and I didn’t want that for us. We got along too well, and she made me fucking happy when I needed it the most.
If I lost her right now, I would fall into a black hole and have a hell of a time coming out of it. “I hope you have a good day tomorrow,” I said instead, releasing her.
Leigh sighed as she climbed out of the bed, searching for her clothes on the floor. I did the same, walking over to the dresser and pulling out a pair of shorts to throw on so I could walk her to the door. Once she was dressed, I grabbed her from behind, pressing a kiss into her hair. “If you hear anything, I want to be the first to know.”
She leaned against me. “You know you will be.”
Her words warmed my heart. “Then we will really celebrate.”
She laughed. “How can it get any better than this?”
Agreed.
After a searing kiss at the door, I waited until she was safely inside her house before I shut the door, walking to the kitchen to grab a beer. I was going to sleep like a baby tonight, though I would sleep even better than that with Leigh at my side. Why was I so fucking scared to ask her to stay? She was the first person I had ever had these feelings for, the first woman I’d even considered as being in a relationship with me. Sure, I’d had flings all my life, but Leigh, there was something about her that made me want to protect her.
And it was far more than what she had dealt with in her life because of her bastard ex. No, I could easily imagine her in this kitchen, her feet bare as we fixed supper together or her taking my house and making it a home.
A home for a family.
Taking a swig of the beer, I tried to picture myself in the club and with a real family. Taking on even a girlfriend was dangerous when one associated with the club. Loved ones could be used for bait, for destroying a person.
I wasn’t so sure I loved Leigh yet, but damn the woman made me think about a future I never thought I would want.
I took the beer back into the bedroom, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. I would clean it up before I left in the morning.
Right now, I wanted to fucking sleep.
But as I pulled out my cell from my jeans to put it on charge, I noticed a text from Chains. There was a problem and he needed me in person in two hours at the club.
Well, shit. Maybe it was good that I hadn’t asked Leigh to stay or Chains would be receiving a text to fuck off.
That, and I would have to explain it to her, something I didn’t want to do. If I did, would she think of me like trash? Would she turn away?
That’s why I couldn’t tell her what I had done, what my role had been in the club. I couldn’t have her turning away.
If she did, well, I didn’t want to think about the person I would become.
Chapter 4
Leigh
I scratched out the word and wrote on top of it, wondering if I ever was going to get this done tonight. My body still hummed from the encounter with Jonathan and all I wanted to really do was curl up in the bed and relive the warmth he had made me feel.
He always made me feel.
Laying down the pen, I stared off into space. I thought that maybe tonight he would ask me to stay, to spend the night with him like real couples do.
But we weren’t really a couple, were we? We really didn’t do the whole dating thing, never going out in public together. I didn’t think it was because he was embarrassed to see me but more so that we were keeping this thing on the down-low from a lot of people.
Including the club. Jonathan didn’t talk about his position with the Rough Jesters and I didn’t ask a lot of questions, mainly because I really didn’t want to know. I knew the smiling, laughing man who had pulled me out of the darkness and showed me what it meant to live again.
I didn’t know the biker side of him.
Some people would likely think me crazy to be involved with a biker, especially after the harrowing experience I had been through. I, too, had questioned my motives, wondering if I just felt safe with him around or if I was really attracted to him.
I still remembered the first day I had met him, having moved into the neighborhood the week prior. It was my first chance to be by myself since my relationship with Brad; a chance to start over.
***
I yanked on the cord again, grumbling when the push mower still didn’t start like it should. The guy at the hardware store had said it would be an easy start for a woman, but so far, I hadn’t found anything easy about it.
But I wasn’t about to pay someone to cut the small patches of grass I had in the front and back when I could easily do it myself. The exercise would be good for me; that is, if I could ever get the darn thing started.
“Need some help?”
I turned to see a tattooed man in the driveway next to me, not crossing the small patch of grass that bordered our two houses. Immediately I felt the panic start to claw at my throat, working through my breathing to reverse the course. Even now I struggled whenever a stranger was around.
“Hey, are you okay? I mean if you want to continue to torture yourself with the mower, go on ahead.”
I shook my head, forcing a faint smile. There was nothing scary about him. He wasn’t Brad. “I’m sorry. Yes, I do need some help.”
He walked the remainder of the way and I drew in a breath as he passed by, my nerves wreaking havoc on the inside. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He was only trying to help. Besides, I had my mace in my pocket and there were others outside in their yards. All I would have to do was scream my lungs out and someone would come running.
“Did you prime it?”
Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked into the prettiest set of eyes I had seen in quite some time. “What?”
He gestured to the red button on the engine. “You have to prime the gas before you try to crank it or else there�
��s no gas in the line.”
Of course. “No, I didn’t do that,” I answered, embarrassed that it was that simple.
He grinned and I felt the funny warmth in the stomach as I took in the dimple that had appeared suddenly. “No worries. I can’t tell you how many I’ve forgotten to do it. Just pump it three times and you shouldn’t have a problem.”
“Thanks,” I answered, wiping my sweaty palms on my sweats. “I’ll do that.”
He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jonathan. You must be my new neighbor.”
“Leigh,” I forced out, sliding my hand into his. His shake was warm and strong but not too strong.
Jonathan cocked his head to the side. “Have we met before?”
“I-I don’t think so,” I said hastily, pulling my hand from his grip. It wouldn’t take him long to remember that my face had been plastered all over the paper for weeks, reporters clamoring to get the juicy details of the chief of police gone bad. I had briefly considered moving out of Castillo altogether, but my work was here, and I didn’t want it to seem like I was running away.
I was a fighter. I could get through this, past this.
“No,” he continued, crossing his massive arms over his chest. “I’ve seen you before. You were at the Jesters’ clubhouse before.”
It was then I recognized the Jesters tattoo on his left forearm. He was a Rough Jester. He was a biker. Of all the rotten luck.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Listen, no one holds you at fault for what happened. I think you are pretty fucking brave for everything you went through.”
I drew in a shuddering breath. No one except myself and the ghost of Brad Walker knew what I had gone through. I hadn’t even told my therapist, too ashamed that I let a man do those things to me.
That I had put up with it. “I am strong,” I whispered, reassuring myself that the old Leigh was nowhere in sight.”
“You are.”
My gaze shot up to Jonathan, who was watching me with curious eyes. I saw nothing but kindness in his face, not even an ounce of mockery, and some of my worry started to melt away. “I’m so sorry. I’m not usually like this.”
He dropped his arm. “Anytime you need something, you come on over, all right? It’s been a while since I’ve had a neighbor on this side. Enjoy your yardwork.”
I watched as he walked away, waiting for the panic to take over. When it didn’t, I frowned at his retreating form. Could I really be okay in his presence? Could this be the leaf turning over to the person I wanted to be?
If nothing else, I knew I wanted to see Jonathan again, biker or not.
***
I shook out of my memory, a soft smile on my face. That day had been the turning point for me and after a week or so, I had taken cookies over in thanks for helping me out. From there he had offered to cook dinner and we had hit it off. Somewhere in the middle of learning more about each other, I had let my barriers down and Jonathan had entered my heart.
My heart.
He no longer worried me. I felt safe around him. I had kissed every inch of his body, traced every tattoo on his arms, and done things in the bedroom with him that I never had done with Brad. Jonathan made me feel like I was a whole woman again.
So why wasn’t I over there now?
Disgusted with myself, I pushed the lesson plans away. They were a hopeless cause now. I should have asked to stay. I should have taken a stance and thrown caution to the wind.
Would he have said yes? I was kinda hoping so. We hadn’t talked about a relationship between us, but our time together only had grown by leaps and bounds over the last month or so. I had feelings for him that scared and excited me.
But was Jonathan the settling-down type? I still wanted a happily ever after. I wanted a ring on my finger, a yard full of toys from the kids we had. I wanted to wake up with a husband at my side, one that cared just as much for me as I did for him.
Was that husband Jonathan? Could I picture the tattooed, bike-riding man who had invaded my life and, quite frankly, stolen my heart, standing next to me at the altar, pledging his love to me?
To my broken, scarred self?
Or would I have to walk away from Jonathan to find my happily ever after? The thought of not having him by my side hurt my heart, but if it meant happiness for me to do so, I was going to have to do it.
With a sigh, I closed the book and put it back in my workbag before unfolding myself from the couch. I couldn’t worry about it right now. I liked my life as it was, but the potential of moving on in my professional career was making me question changes in my personal life as well. I would have to make a decision eventually.
But not tonight.
My phone buzzed and I looked at it, my heart melting at the text. It was Jonathan, wishing me a good night’s sleep and the promise of seeing me tomorrow. Just when I thought he couldn’t surprise me more, he did small things like this that turned my heart on its side and made me want to continue this between us. How could I ever walk away from him?
The sound of a bike revving caught my ear and I hurried to the window, watching as Jonathan backed his bike down his driveway and pulled out into the road, the headlight briefly flashing over my living room window before he took off into the night.
Another part of Jonathan I didn’t know. I knew about his family or lack thereof, his love for fishing when he had the time, and how he liked his steak cooked.
His club life, that was something we didn’t discuss.
Dropping the curtain, I walked away toward my bedroom, my cell clenched to my chest as I said a small prayer for God to watch over him and keep him safe in whatever he was about to do.
And to bring him home safely for another day with me.
Chapter 5
Two Tone
I sat in Rex’s office, the untouched beer on the table beside me. I was fucking tired, too tired even to drink the damn thing, and all I wanted to do was go home.
Chains was somewhere in the club, and until I talked with him, I couldn’t leave to do anything. Whatever was going down was something important and Chains wanted me involved.
I just wished it could have waited until in the morning. It was nearing two in the morning and I hoped that Leigh had gone to sleep after watching me pull away. I had seen her silhouette in the window when I had pulled out of my driveway and it had taken all I had not to pull back into that damn driveway and join her in her house, this time in her bed until we both fell into an exhausted sleep.
What a damn fine sleep it would have been too. I rarely went to her house for our time together, Leigh much preferring to come to mine instead because she got a meal out of it too.
Hell, I didn’t care where we did it, as long as we did. It seemed I couldn’t get enough of her.
That was evident by the damn grin on my face that I couldn’t wipe off. She made me happy, far happier than I had anticipated when we first hooked up. It wasn’t just in the bed either. She made me happy by just being with her.
“What the hell are you grinning for?”
I found Chains looking at me. “What?”
“You,” he said, pointing at my face. “Were grinning like a banshee. It’s fucking two in the morning, man. What do you have to grin about?”
I chuckled. “You should know what I am grinning about, man.”
“Shit,” Chains said, shaking his head. “You’re fucking someone, aren’t you? And not just anyone.”
“Nah, man,” I replied, leaning back in the chair. “Not just anyone.”
Chains fell into his chair. “Good for you. I mean it. Even us shitty bikers can strike it rich every once and a while.”
I knew what he meant. I had given him hell about marrying Widow but now that I was with Leigh, I could understand why he had. Chains loved the Bitches’ president and no amount of loyalty to the Jesters was gonna change that. “She’s not a biker.”
“Huh,” he said, wiping a hand over his face. “Maybe that’s good, but keep her the hell away from this mess, man.
If she’s around you, she’s in danger.”
I knew that as well, which was one reason why I tried not to be seen with her in public. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but more that I didn’t want her to be in any danger in my presence. It sucked, really, but Leigh didn’t seem to mind. Though it had been two years since her ordeal with Brad, people still recognized her, and I knew it bothered her. “I’m being careful.”
Chains looked at me, something crossing his expression akin to sympathy. “Even the most careful person makes a mistake every now and again, Jonathan. Make sure that you want to put up your life for her. We all say we can protect them, but I’ve seen more bullet holes in my guys than I care to see, and most were made protecting their women.”