Submission to Kale [The McAlisters of McKenna Downs 2] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Zoey Marcel

  He shot her a look that was likely a potent combo of horror and repulsion. “I don’t like men. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Fine, sorry. I was just trying to be nice.”

  “I know you were and that’s sweet, but I’m straight, the same as you. Why did you think I wasn’t?”

  “I was just saying. Wait.”

  “What for? You’ve already made your mind up. I saw that bridal magazine.”

  Guilt showed on her face.

  “Why shouldn’t you choose them? They have a shitload of money and I’m just starting my career. They’re into kinky, free-loving bullshit and have a father who would probably support them no matter what. Mine would disown me and even if not, it doesn’t matter because I want you to myself.”

  “I want you, too. I’ve known them longer, but I care about all of you. Where are you going?”

  Damn it, he just wanted to get the hell out of there, not psychoanalyze why things couldn’t work between them given the circumstances.

  “I just need some space. Text me when you’re done and I’ll come get you.”

  “Don’t bother. I can ask my brother, or maybe I’ll spend the night here.”

  He knew she meant to injure him with the words and it might have worked had he not seen the servants coming over to them.

  “Have fun, sugar.”

  Heath turned on his heel and got the hell out of there, heart breaking as he drove away and realized that he’d just let go of the only woman he’d ever loved. Leaving was a mistake, but staying probably would have been an even bigger one.

  * * * *

  Later that day Heath scowled when he heard the tire pop. Fucking flat. He pulled over by the side of the road and then parked and shut the engine off.

  Figures.

  Sighing, he got out of the truck and took in the super flat tire. This would be the time he didn’t have a spare tire with him. Murphy’s Law.

  Thoughts of Danielle had him depressed enough as it was. He didn’t need this shit right now. Maybe he could drive to the next town and get a new tire.

  A big black truck slowed down before coming to a stop on the other side of the road. Heath ignored it, trying to make up his mind about what to do.

  Heavy clops thudded lightly on the blacktop as the other driver approached him on foot. He looked up and almost quit breathing when he saw the mutant badass walking toward him. The man had to be six feet, five inches tall, and he was packed with so much muscle Heath wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had taken something to aid his heavy workouts and get that huge. The bald man’s muscles didn’t look frightening like some of the veiny competitors. He looked like a bodybuilder or a pro wrestler, but in a balanced way that would have women believing that he was all natural, even if men who worked out regularly knew better.

  The man’s dark beard and chinstrap had a salt-and-pepper dusting to it and there was something captivating about that distinguished touch of maturity to the otherwise rebel look of him.

  Heath swallowed, surprised by the sudden excess flow of saliva.

  The macho hulk had tattoos, though not sleeves. The beautiful copper shade of his skin hinted at a melting pot of ethnicity in his heritage without giving anything definite away. At a guess Heath would say the man was probably a breathtaking mixture of Samoan, Greek, and African with maybe a dash of European thrown in.

  His enormous guns and sturdy chest showed from his snug white wifebeater, and he wore baggy jeans and heavy boots on his feet. The width of his confident strides spoke of power and self-assurance. There was no timidity in his gait, nothing feminine about him.

  His sex appeal was ratcheted further by the dark aviator shades he wore. A large gold Celtic cross necklace hung from his trunk-like neck, adding a dash of sacrilege to the epitome of sin.

  “Need a hand?”

  Heath had to snap himself out of his emasculated daze to answer him. “It’s just a flat. I’ll be all right.”

  The man came to a stop in front of him, chewing gum with his mouth open. There was something familiar about him, but Heath couldn’t place it.

  “You need a spare?”

  “I don’t have one. I figured I’d just drive as far as I could.”

  The buff male examined the flat tire through his sunglasses. “Nah, it’s too flat. I’ve got a spare with me you can use. Wait here.”

  “Not like I have much choice. Thanks, by the way.”

  The guy nodded once and crossed the street again.

  Heath was glad they were out in the middle of nowhere so no one would see him unprepared and accepting help from another man. Not a very manly predicament to be in.

  The walking beacon of testosterone returned with a big tire and a jack.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  A large hand blocked his reaching one. “I’ll do it for you.”

  Heath made a face. “I know how to change a tire. Just let me—”

  “Stand down, Heath.”

  His heart rate spiked. “You know who I am?”

  The man’s strong jaw was set. “I know you.”

  “How? I don’t know who you are.”

  Slowly, the guy grinned at this. “I’ll just get this changed for you. Then you can buy me lunch to pay me back.”

  The man’s voice was commanding but not really thunderous. It had an affable, almost mocking quality that said he could be as quick to laugh as he could be intimidating when he had to be.

  “I’d like to know who I’m eating with,” Heath said.

  “When I’m ready for you to say my name, you’ll say my name.”

  What kind of arrogant prick was this?

  “Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  The towering man stepped closer, invading his personal space and shutting him the hell up. The sultry musk of his cologne wafted up Heath’s nose. It was a purely masculine smell with smoky notes of sweet tobacco and the dark deviance of black leather mingled with the rich, musky essence of a virile alpha male.

  “I’m the man who’s changing your tire,” the guy said sternly. “That’s all you need to know right now. You got a problem with that?”

  Heath gulped and shook his head.

  “Didn’t think so.”

  He felt squeamish as the larger man got down on the ground and jacked his truck up and then proceeded to change his tire for him. Heath didn’t feel like much of a man, letting another guy do this manly task for him. Then again, the hulkish brute could emasculate any male he stood next to.

  When the man was done, he stood and picked his jack up. “You’re all set. Follow me and I’ll show you where we’re eating.”

  “Um, thanks.”

  The muscle-bound demigod gave him a single nod before heading back across the street to his truck.

  Heath didn’t know what to make of him, but he was grateful. He followed the other man in his truck until they came to the next town and then parked after he did outside of a buffet restaurant.

  God, did he really have to dine with this paragon of masculinity? He felt like fucking Mercury in the shadow of big-ass planet Jupiter. The way the guy chewed gum with his mouth open and wouldn’t take those damned sunglasses off was hot as hell. He was probably full of himself. That really shouldn’t be a turn-on, but somehow it was.

  Please. I’m not turned on. I just haven’t gotten any in a while because of breaking up with Danielle. That’s all it is. Glad we got that straightened out.

  The charitable brute got the door for him. Heath grimaced and walked inside. It was nice of the guy, he guessed, but he didn’t need chivalry. He was a man, too, damn it.

  “Two for lunch?” the hostess asked.

  “Yeah,” the man replied. “We’ll have the buffet.”

  “Follow me, please.”

  Heath flinched when the guy lightly touched his back to direct him to follow her. He grinned at Heath’s reaction. Both followed the hostess and then sat down at the table.

  “I figured a buffet would pay for the tr
ouble I went through for you,” the man teased. Then sobering he added, “To start with.”

  Heath stared at him. “Are you gonna tell me your name?”

  “When I’m ready to.”

  “Are you gonna take the damned shades off?”

  “No. Get a plate. Let’s eat.”

  He followed the hefty male and they filled their plates up before returning to the table.

  Heath got a good look at the other man’s tattoos. The ink on his left arm was a tribal tattoo that disappeared into his shirt. The artwork on his right one was a demonic-looking bison skull with angry red eyes and a crown on its head. It was at that moment Heath realized that he was having lunch with a member of the Princes of Hell motorcycle club. He had nothing against bikers, but that particular group was supposedly an outlaw gang.

  Oh, shit. What did I do to piss them off?

  “So, you’re a biker, huh?” Heath asked.

  The man nodded. “Is that a problem?”

  “I don’t judge.”

  “Since when?”

  Heath frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m just giving you a hard time. So tell me about yourself, Heath. How have you been?”

  “Okay, this is really fucking weird. You know my name and I don’t know who the fuck you are.”

  The man studied him for a moment and then picked up a slice of pizza. “You swear a lot. I like that.”

  Heath smirked and shook his head. “Where do you know me from?”

  “I’m asking the questions right now. Just tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  He scooped a dollop of mashed potatoes onto his spoon. “I just got an apartment and I’m gonna open up a clinic.”

  “Oh yeah? Is that a veterinary clinic?”

  Heath paused with his utensil in midair. “How did you know that?”

  “I remember you telling me that’s what you wanted,” the man said quietly. “One of the things.”

  There was something pretty fucking familiar about him, but Heath still couldn’t place it. “Damn it, who are you?”

  “That woman I saw you with at the club the other evening ...”

  A dull pain moved through his chest. “What about her?”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Her name is Danielle. We broke up.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Personal reasons.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Heath rolled his eyes. “I’m not sharing my personal business with a man who won’t even tell me his name.”

  “Tell me why you broke up with her and I’ll give you my name.”

  “Fine, not that it’s any of your business, but I broke up with her because I didn’t want to share her.”

  The man stared at him, expression indecipherable. “Is she from McKenna Downs?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I figured. They like to share over there.”

  “I think it’s sickening.”

  “Not into three-ways, huh?”

  “I’m a pastor’s kid.”

  The guy’s lips drew back in a mocking smile. “So you’ve always walked the straight and narrow, huh?”

  Heath grimaced. “I’m the good one.”

  “Sure you are, Heath.”

  “What do you know?”

  “I know you’re not straight.”

  His head flew up and his pulse raced with panic. “What?”

  The man’s brows arched in challenge. “Are you gonna deny it?”

  “Why shouldn’t I? I am straight.”

  “Is that what you’re sticking with?”

  Heath set his spoon down with a clank. “What is your problem? Is this a date to you? Is that what it is? You changed my tire and now you think I want to be your bitch?”

  The man grinned at this. His eyebrows lifted suddenly in suggestion, making Heath incredibly warm. “Just so we’re clear that you’re the bottom.”

  Infuriated, Heath gritted his teeth and stood. “I said I was straight, you queer bastard. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  The man rose abruptly and stood inches from him. “I’m the one who got your rocks off a decade ago and proved what a fake little son of a bitch you are.”

  Time stopped. Heath gaped at him and nearly fell over.

  “Heller?” he breathed.

  “Yeah, it’s me, pretty boy. Sit down before I deliberately humiliate you.”

  Heath sat and so did Heller. He couldn’t believe it. His former best friend from years ago sat across from him. Heller Enos, the only man he’d ever loved and hungered for, and the one he’d betrayed a decade ago by outing as a bisexual.

  “Surprised?” Heller asked.

  Heath sat there in shock. He was speechless for a good minute. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “And here I am.” Heller ate, seeming nonchalant now.

  Heath was far from it. “Do you live around here?”

  “Kale and I bought a house in McKenna Downs.”

  “How is he?”

  “He’s doing fine. Thanks for asking.” A sardonic note hovered in Heller’s tone. “Eat up, Heath. If you want to get big you have to eat big.”

  Wry bastard, taunting his smaller physique. Heath was a solid, well-developed medium build, but freakin’ Heller looked like an Olympian.

  Heath scraped at his plate. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought of the past, seeing the bruises and cuts on Heller when he’d been beaten up for being bi years ago. He hadn’t been muscular like now or he’d have easily beaten the shit out of the people who attacked him. Heath recalled how devastated he was when Heller had moved away from Stone River. It broke his heart completely, even as he understood why Heller left.

  “About the past...” Heath mumbled. He didn’t even know where to begin. He couldn’t explain things to Heller without revealing some private details he was ashamed to.

  Heller kept eating. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s leave the past in the past and just resume our friendship.”

  The mercy floored him.

  “You all right, Heath? You look a little pale.”

  Heath trembled uncontrollably. “I’m not feeling well. I should get going. I’ll write out a check for this.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  He stood, shaking badly. “I’ll pay. It’s the least—”

  “I said I’ve got it.” Heller looked at him, face firm with authority, though the shades hid his eyes from him. “Just buy me a drink sometime and we’ll call it even.”

  “Okay. Thanks again.”

  He nodded once. “I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah, you, too.” Heath hurried out of the restaurant, walking briskly.

  Once in his truck again, he let out a huge breath, quaking violently. A conflicting storm of emotions raged inside him, tearing him in a bunch of different directions at once. He was torn between crying and throwing up, between offering a prayer of thanks and jacking off.

  He never thought he’d see Heller again. Now he had and he felt physically, mentally, and emotionally drained like he might pass out from the experience. It stunned him completely that Heller forgave him for the past and didn’t even want to discuss it. Something about that surprised him since Heller was a very aggressive individual and sometimes vindictive. Maybe he’d changed.

  Heath knew they couldn’t ever be lovers. Heller would never trust him after that betrayal by outing him, nor could Heath afford to have his father discover his feelings toward Heller.

  It didn’t matter. All of that was in the past. He and Heller could just be friends again like they used to be. Part of Heath was down with that plan, but there was another part of him that never wanted to see Heller again.

  Chapter Three

  Danielle soaked up the hot sunshine of Indian summer in lazy contentment. David McAlister stood behind her, pushing her lightly on the tree swing.

  “Any news on your ex?” he asked.

  “Not on Gavin, but they took his two partn
ers-in-crime in for questioning. They didn’t find any evidence of the murder I witnessed, but they were able to convict the men of other crimes.”

  “Well, that’s good. At least they got ’em for something.”

  “Yeah. Gavin’s the one I’m worried about.”

  David stilled the swing and rubbed her back in soothing strokes. “They’ll find him, pumpkin. It might take a little time, but they will catch him. In the meantime we’ll keep you safe.”

  She leaned back into him, nuzzling him affectionately like a friendly housecat. “I know you will. I’ll marry you by the way.”

  “I knew you would. We’re perfect for you and you’re the only woman for us.”

  “It’s true. I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long.”

  “That’s okay.” His hand slid down her collarbone and brushed her right breast before ascending. “That wasn’t intentional. I was just trying to hug you.”

  She cracked a smile, snickering a little. “Uh-huh.”

  He sounded like he was grinning from behind her. “It really wasn’t. I’m not saying I regret it. Sometimes these things just happen.”

  Now that he’d awakened her nipple she decided to play with him. She stood and faced him. “Your turn.”

  He frowned. “You don’t have to push me.”

  “I’m going to ride you.”

  His almond-brown eyes sizzled. “Oh, I see. I’m not sure that’s gonna work.”

  He sat down and she studied his lap and the swing. “Hmm. Any suggestions?”

  “Maybe if you can get your legs on the other side. Here.” He extended his arms to her. “I’ll keep you stable.”

  After he grounded his feet and kept the swing from swaying, she did her best to climb onto his lap and straddle him.

  “Ow. What the—” She shrieked, giggling when only her legs seemed rooted securely and she was hanging by a thread over the ground.

  David kept her from falling, but his laughter made their connection shaky.

  “Quit laughing. You’re gonna drop me.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You look like a spazzy otter.”

  “What?”

  They guffawed, but to his credit he held onto her and managed to pull her up so she sat on his lap nicely.