“Not anymore.” He kicked the door shut behind him with his heel.
“This isn’t a good time,” Melissa stepped away from him.
“I think it is,” he growled.
“It isn’t,” she growled back.
“I’m not gonna stand here debating this, Melissa. Got to get to leaking pipes early. Water damage could cost me a bundle down the line. I’d really hate to have to raise your rent to cover that shit because my timing isn’t goddamn convenient for you.” He threw her a calculated look.
“I’m not paying you a dime more, Crow. If that’s what this is about, you can forget it.” Melissa narrowed her eyes then she sniffled into a tissue.
Crow took another step closer. His big body filled the small room.
“You sick?” he asked.
“What?” Melissa stiffened and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
“Not looking so good,” he assessed her.
“I’m fine,” she spat. “Do whatever you have to do. I’m not in the mood to argue with you today.” Melissa put her hands up in surrender and moved aside.
“Well, that’s a fucking first,” Crow muttered under his breath.
He caught the dirty look she threw him and thought that was an improvement. A pissed off Melissa was a whole lot better than a sad, crying Melissa. Suddenly the loosely wrapped blanket slipped off her shoulder and Crow’s eyes followed the smooth expanse of skin down to the soft globes of her breasts. When Melissa noticed his wandering gaze she threw him another long angry look, made an exaggerated display of covering herself up again, turned her back on him and began to lead the way to the kitchen. Crow smirked inwardly at the kitten showing her claws. The he planted himself in front of the television and grabbed the remote from where it sat on the couch.
“What are you watching?” he called out to her.
Melissa gazelled out of the kitchen and practically leaped over the couch when she realized he had not followed her. He had no idea she could move that fast.
“I thought you were here for the pipes.” She placed herself in front of the television. Panic edged her voice.
Crow craned his neck to look past her.
“Hey, is that you?”
“Give me the remote.” Melissa stretched out her arm in a defensive move and her hand shook.
“Hell, yeah. That’s you,” he continued unfazed.
Crow held the small electronic device up and just out of her reach while out of the corner of his eye he watched Melissa pale before him.
“Barely recognized you smiling.” He ignored her stricken look and stood before the screen.
“Crow…” Melissa exhaled in a long mournful sound that he paid absolutely no attention to.
She waited for him to hand her the remote, but when he didn’t, she sighed with a note of surrender and said simply, “It was a good day.”
A much happier, slightly younger version of Melissa smiled and waved a bright bouquet of large blossoms at them from the screen. She wore a goofy grin and a blue fluffy bathrobe. Her hair was piled high in an elaborate up-do with a string of white pearls threaded through the shining, tumbling curls. A bejeweled, lacy, white wedding dress hung on the closet door behind her.
“So this was your…?” He turned to Melissa.
“My wedding day,” she said to the screen.
Crow had a fleeting thought of his own five-minute Vegas ceremony before he felt a surge of jealous fury rifle through him.
Not fucking happening.
“I love weddings. Let’s watch it,” Crow said.
That should do it.
Melissa recoiled as if she had been shot.
“So you and…” Crow paused and rubbed a hand over the scruff of his chin. “What was his name?”
“Name?” Melissa frowned at him.
"Yeah. That guy you married … what was his name?"
“My husband,” Melissa murmured.
“Not anymore, Melissa," Crow said with purpose.
She took a step away from him then. Her hands made a movement that reminded Crow of a broken-winged bird.
What the hell are you doing? Crow asked himself. What the fuck are you doing?
He found himself sitting on a whole boatload of feelings that were not at all familiar to him. And he couldn't help but think that along with all the other forms of depravity he enjoyed, he didn't need to add a goddamn widow fetish to the list.
But there it was.
Goddamn prissy, mousy, holier-than-thou, soccer mom Melissa. She was skinny, uptight and totally immune to the badass biker thing he had going on. She avoided him, ignored him and called him out on his bullshit every step of the way.
And it totally turned him on.
Very dirty thoughts of what it would take to unlock the cage that she had trapped herself in rose and surged through his mind. His mind suddenly filled with erotic images that made his balls ache and tighten. Melissa Raymoor …naked and moaning beneath him. Yeah, he had palmed his dick more than once in the last couple of weeks thinking of what that would look like. And now here she was standing in front of him—lost and vulnerable and wanting. Yearning for a guy who wasn't him.
Not. Fucking. Happening.
Crow picked up the CD case labeled “Melissa and Jesse’s wedding.”
“Jesse. His name was Jesse,” Crow said forcefully.
“Don’t,” she whispered to him.
“Don’t what?” He leaned into her.
“Just don’t. Not today. Please don’t.” Melissa looked away from him as her lip began to quiver.
Goddamn it.
When he saw that look of confused pain cross her face, Crow imagined taking her into his arms. He imagined pressing kisses against those red lips of hers until her panties were wet. Crow wanted to caveman Melissa up over his shoulder and take her to his bed until all thoughts of Jesse disappeared once and for all and forever from her mind.
But instead he said, “Are you gonna sit on that couch all day crying and watching it play out over and over again?” He placed his hand on her chin and tilted her face up.
“I’m not doing that,” she said under her breath.
“Babe, you got tears all over your face and the remote’s on repeat.”
Melissa slumped in defeat. Then she stepped away from him.
“It’s my anniversary,” she explained.
“And this is how he would want you to spend it? Holed up all day in your pajamas crying about your wedding day? You think that he would have wanted you wallowed in grief for something that’s gone and never coming back?”
Melissa swallowed hard. Her hand made a sudden move to her stomach like she had just gotten kicked by a horse. Like she was going to be sick.
“This bullshit is not happening,” he said commandingly. “We got shit to do. A lot of things to take care of today.”
“What things?” She eyed him with suspicion.
Crow searched his mind. He had no clue. What the fuck would get her out of the house?
“Shopping,” he answered.
All women liked to shop.
“Shopping?” she repeated.
“Yeah. We need to go shopping. But first I need to look at those pipes. Then I'm going to do that inspection of the house I mentioned yesterday. I'm pretty sure that I felt a couple of soft spots on the kitchen floor the first time I walked in. I'm going to go through the house and make a list—there's a shitload of stuff that needs fixing everywhere else. Then you're going to go out with me to help pick paint colors and stuff like that,” Crow explained.
He had made the whole thing up, but the more he thought about it, it all needed to be done.
Crow positioned himself between Melissa and the television. Then he turned it off with a decisive click and threw the offending remote out of her reach. It landed with a soft thump somewhere on the worn carpet.
Melissa turned to look at Crow, her face a mass of confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“A soft spot on the
floor could mean rot. You don't want Jett falling through and getting hurt. I need to get floor boards and stuff to fix that.”
She was still looking at him like she wasn’t buying it. Then Crow remembered something the lawyer had told him.
“I’ve been meaning to take a look up in the attic too. I want to make sure that there are no bee hives or wasp nests…that shit loves to make a home in attics.”
“Jett's allergic to bees. I've never even considered hidden nests. That would be bad.” Melissa frowned, and a nervous shiver coursed through her body.
“Yeah. Good to check that out,” Crow said.
“Okay. You’re right. I’ll take you through the house.” She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and turned to lead the way.
“Gonna be looking in the basement and attic first. No sense exposing you to all that dust and mold and bat shit.” Crow’s eyes swept the length of her.
“Bat shit?” Melissa shuddered.
“You never know,” Crow shrugged.
“Go take a shower and get dressed. We’re going out after I make a list.”
“Going out? List?”
“The fuck?!” Crow said and looked around the room as if confused.
“What?” Melissa jumped.
“I’m gonna have to find out where that echo is coming from too.” Crow craned his neck in exaggeration.
Melissa looked at him for a minute. Then a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth and, even though it did not quite reach her eyes, Crow felt rewarded.
“I swear I do not do that with anyone else,” she said.
Crow liked the thought of Melissa doing something with him that she did not do with anyone else. As a matter of fact, he had plans for just that—him doing things to Melissa that made those whiskey colored eyes go wide in surprise at the things she did with him and no one else.
“Go change,” he commanded. His hands gripped her waist, spun her around and gave her a small shove forward. “Don’t have all damn day.”
Melissa tensed, but let herself be moved. She looked back at Crow one last time before heading up the stairs.
“You good with the bike?” he called out to her.
“The bike?” When she turned to look at him he saw the tiniest measure of excitement in her eyes. Then disappointment followed. “It’s raining. It’s supposed to rain all day,” she sighed.
“Sun broke out a few minutes ago,” Crow moved over to the window.
Melissa walked over to the glass pane and stood next to him.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Did you do that?”
Crow recognized the light teasing tone he had heard Melissa use with Jett. But this was different. Huskier. Warmer. And edgy with something that Crow wanted to explore. But before he had a chance to respond to her, Melissa smiled at him.
Really laid one on him.
A full-on bright, beautiful, nothing-held-back smile.
And his world stopped.
Just. Like. That.
And that smile made Crow feel like he had made the sun shine just for her. It made him feel like he alone had the power to push away the clouds, stop the rain and bring out the light.
Calm your ass down, Crow told his dick as he watched not-so-mousy Melissa go upstairs to change.
Chapter 13
“Did you do that?”
Melissa could not believe she had said that to him. Now all alone in the bathroom she shook her head at herself in reproach.
“What is wrong with you? Acting like a teenage girl!” Melissa scolded her reflection in the mirror.
“Was not!” The reflection pouted back.
Melissa glared back at her image before turning on the shower.
She stood under the steaming spray of water and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
One minute she was sipping tea in her living room and crying over her wedding video. And the next minute she was flirting…oh yeah… that was the right word… flirting with Crow Mathison.
She should never have let him in.
Bad move, she scolded herself again even as she decided to take the extra time and pour on the deep conditioner that would leave her hair shiny and soft.
Each anniversary since Jessie's death Melissa had felt an obligation to play that damn wedding video over and over again. And every year it got harder to look back and see how full of promise and happiness their marriage had seemed destined to be. She got no pleasure from looking at it now. Melissa knew that she watched the video as an act of penance. The knock at the door had sent a sense of relief coursing through her body.
Until she had answered it.
And then there he was again.
Crow Mathison.
The very man who seemed to take perverse pleasure in continually invading her space, messing with her plans and issuing challenge after challenge to her fragile peace of mind. She wasn’t sure why she had finally caved. Maybe it was because Crow never seemed anything but fearless around her. He was the only person she had met since Jesse died who did not dance around her widow status.
Or maybe it wasn’t him at all.
Maybe she was just tired of being sad all the time. That thought brought a measure of comfort and reassurance to her mind.
Just sick of the sadness.
Liar, her traitorous body shouted at her as her nipples hardened under the warm spray of water. Something deep inside of her clenched and moistened at the thought of how Crow had touched her. Her heartbeat pounded and throbbed through her. Just the thought of him downstairs waiting for her made Melissa dizzy with the feeling of being poised on the edge of a cliff with nothing but wind below.
What was she doing?
The urge to turn off the shower and jump under the covers came over Melissa in a strong wave. But she didn't run and hide. Instead, she turned the shower dial away from the gentle stream of perfectly heated warm water to a full winter storm blast to shock some sense into herself. But the freezing water only served to heighten her senses. And her excitement.
Spending time alone with Crow today was a mistake she knew she shouldn't be looking forward to making. But it had been years since she had been on a bike. Jesse had forbidden her to ride with her dad while he was away, saying that it was her responsibility to keep herself safe for Jett's sake. Even then, Melissa had felt a tinge of resentment at his words.
It hadn't seemed fair. Jesse had been out risking life and limb signing up for tour after tour flying the not-so-friendly skies while Melissa could not even accept a Sunday afternoon ride from her dad while her grandpa watched Jett. But she had understood it too. It was painfully clear to her that Jesse could not be away doing what he needed to do and be worried about his family at home.
But still he had forbidden it.
Jesse had used those archaic words. When her father found out that Jesse was issuing decrees against her very freedom (her dad's words not hers,) he had gone ballistic. The memories of how that had added to the already strained marriage tied her stomach in knots. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.
Because she was going shopping.
What the hell could she contribute to a shopping trip for lumber and tools and stuff?
And more importantly, what was she going to wear?
Melissa dried herself off and ran to the window hoping that the sunshine was still holding out.
It was.
She hurried into her bedroom and automatically pulled out the dresser drawer that held her T-shirts. She looked at them, and they looked dismally back at her. Crow's insulting words came back to haunt her.
Those ratty, dark, depressing T-shirts.
Melissa slammed the drawer shut and reached under the bed for the box of clothes she had put away. The ones that she had lost interest in wearing. The fitted jeans, the pretty shirts in soft pastels, the lacy tanks, the deep scoop-necked sweaters in beautiful jewel tones.
She quickly rifled through them and discarded one after another as memories threatened to cree
p up and rob her of the pleasure of this day. She held up a cute pink sweater that had once been a favorite. The last time she had worn it, she had renewed at the DMV. Not too soon after that her husband had been killed. She put it aside and opted for a soft cotton sweater in a shade of purple so dark it almost looked black.
The neckline was low enough just to show a hint of cleavage, and thin strands of silver and tiny specks of gold glimmered throughout the fabric. The new-at-the-time jeans didn’t fit as snugly anymore, but they had pretty stitching around the hem. Melissa cut off the tags and pulled them on.
Her hair was still damp, and she towel-dried it briskly again. It fell in soft ringlets over her like a crazy halo. If she left it loose, it would be a mass of tangles after the ride, so she pulled it to the side and braided it.
Then Melissa rummaged through another cardboard box and exchanged her flip flops for a pair of short leather biker boots that she had almost forgotten she had. Her dad had bought them for her one Christmas. Jesse had been home for the holidays that year and had looked on disapprovingly, but she had worn them regardless. Not on a bike maybe, but she had worn them.
When she was all dressed, Melissa stood in front of the mirror only to see that her eyes were still slightly red from the crying jag. Maybe just a sweep of mascara and a touch of eyeliner would help.
Yeah. That looked better. Applying just a little tinted lip gloss would keep her lips from chapping in the wind, wouldn't it? Then because her ears stood out with her hair pulled back and braided Melissa decided to add a pair of small hoops. She took one long last look at herself in the mirror and smiled slightly at her reflection. It had been a long time since she had looked at herself with a critical eye, and she was surprised to find that she liked what she saw. She was almost out the door before she remembered to slip the long chain back over her neck. The ring felt cold against her shower-warmed skin and Melissa shivered at the contact for a moment before she headed out towards the sun.
Chapter 14
At the kitchen counter Crow scribbled something on a piece of paper. The clicking of the heels of Melissa's boots caused him to glance up. Crow's eyes flickered over her and lingered on the soft shine in her hair. The metallic threads in her sweater shimmered as she walked towards him and he had to stop himself from pulling her into his arms. “Got to go next door and grab a couple of things, then we’re good to go. Jett coming home at three-thirty?” he asked.
Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) Page 8