Beard Mode (The Dixie Warden Rejects MC Book 1)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “Bipolar disorder can be controlled with medications,” I told him. “Did you ever mention getting help to her?”

  He gave me a look, which caused me to hold up my hands.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “But seriously…why’d you stay as long as you did if you weren’t happy?”

  He sighed.

  “Every time I threatened to go, she’d start crying. Make me feel bad. Threaten to do something bad if those two things didn’t work.” He pursed his lips.

  “Like what?” I asked. “Threaten to sue you for everything you’re worth?”

  He shook his head in the negative. “More like threaten to kill herself…”

  I winced.

  “That’ll do it,” I sighed. “I had a guy I used to be in the Marines with. He got out after twelve years in, couldn’t adjust to civilian life and killed himself. Feels kind of shitty to me that he didn’t say anything at all. Then there’s your ex-wife threatening to do it and never doing it.”

  “Right,” he muttered. “I fell for that a lot. I was fuckin’ miserable. I had no friends. My family hated my wife. She hated spending time with them because she knew they hated her, so I never saw them either. It was a vicious cycle…and honestly, when she finally did what she did, I was relieved. I’d finally have a good excuse to leave her without my conscious getting in the way.”

  “What did she do?” I crossed my arms and looked at him.

  “She wrecked me…hit my pride and joy, to add insult to injury.”

  “What was your pride and joy?” I asked.

  “A 1957 white Ford pickup truck. 454 under the hood. Rebuilt from the ground up,” he growled. “Worked on it to get me the hell away from her.”

  “What happened?” I asked gently.

  “Was driving somewhere,” he mumbled. “Can’t even remember where, but she came at me, ran a fuckin’ red light. Hit me so goddamned hard that I slammed into the light pole. The truck had an electrical issue to begin with, and the moment gas started to leak, the whole goddamned thing went up in flames on the inside. Barely got out of there with my life.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  He laughed humorlessly. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Why wouldn’t you say that?” I frowned.

  His eyes lifted to mine, and without hesitation he replied, “Look at me, Imogen. I’m a fuckin’ monster.”

  I blinked.

  “You think you’re a monster?” I snorted. “You’re fucked in the head.”

  Okay, people. I realize that wasn’t the right thing to say, but I wasn’t one for beating around the bush. I said what I had to say, and I did what needed getting done.

  I didn’t sugar coat things. That was the way to have misunderstandings, and with Aaron, I didn’t want any misunderstandings between us.

  Not when we came with our own baggage.

  I didn’t know where this all would lead, but I knew that I was going to try my hardest to make it work.

  I have had a thing for this man for a very long time, and now that the opportunity was here, I was going to seize it with both hands and hold on for however long he let me.

  Chapter 13

  The fear that courses through you when you hear your mother use your full name.

  -Aaron’s secret thoughts

  Aaron

  “My brother called last night sometime and left me a voicemail telling me that his wife was in the hospital. Since my parents are on a cruise, I’m going to head up there and see what I can do to help,” I hesitated. “For a couple of days at least. I don’t start at the station until Monday, so that means I have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to help where I can.”

  Imogen’s face showed concern, and I liked that.

  She didn’t know my family. Didn’t know my brother, but she was worried for them.

  Not pissed off like Lynn would’ve been. It didn’t matter that my brother’s wife was sick. She would’ve automatically assumed that I was lying and demand either I don’t go, or that I take her with me. None of which I would’ve done.

  My brother needed me. Not Lynn’s crazy shit.

  Though, Lynn was only a bad memory now.

  Thank god.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Aaron. Is there anything I can do?”

  On the spur of the moment, I let my mouth do the speaking for me.

  “Do you want to come to Kilgore with me for the weekend?” I asked. “Truth is flying me.”

  She blinked, her hair splayed all around her on the bed.

  “Okay.”

  My grin turned into a full-fledged smile.

  “Meet me in forty-five minutes?”

  She nodded, then turned to put her key into the door knob.

  I walked up behind her, and when she would’ve turned to say goodbye, I pinned her to the door with the hard length of my body, causing her to freeze.

  Her breath hitched in her throat, and she turned only her head to stare at me.

  Her eyes weren’t right.

  I’d just thought to press my lips against hers one more time before we parted for forty minutes. I hadn’t realized anything was wrong.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, concern lacing my tone.

  She licked her lips.

  “I feel like maybe I should say no to going…give you the time alone with your family. Then I’m all over here thinking, I don’t want you to go without me.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want to be like her.”

  At that, I burst out laughing.

  “You’ve done more for me in the last twenty-four hours than Lynn did for me in eight years,” I informed her. “She wouldn’t have stayed with me at that funeral. She wouldn’t have taken the dog out for a walk—even if you did go against my direct orders—and she wouldn’t come with me without questioning why. Then complaining about it. Trust me. You’re nothing like her.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “If I start to seem too clingy, overly excited, or genuinely annoying, you’ll tell me, right?” she asked hopefully.

  “Settle, girl,” I whispered against her hair. “I’ve been watching you for months now. Don’t you think I know what goes on around me?”

  She shivered. “I suppose you would.”

  My grin was practically devilish.

  “Watched you take your morning walk. Always about fifty steps behind you so I could admire your ass in those yoga pants as I did my cool down,” I murmured. “Watched you get an ice cream from the ice cream truck every Tuesday. Bombstick.”

  She started to laugh.

  “A Bombstick isn’t ice cream, it’s a popsicle,” she glared. “You must think I’m a child.”

  “Trust me,” I told her, sweeping my hand down her side. “I think you’re anything but a child.”

  ***

  “You’re acting like a child.”

  I turned my glare to Truth.

  “Did you say something you wanted me to answer?” I asked him. “I don’t need you here.”

  “You’re the one who asked me to fly you to Kilgore. So I’m flying you to Kilgore. Don’t be an ungrateful dick head.”

  He was right.

  But I wasn’t in the type of mood to deal with his smart mouth. Especially not with the way the stupid security officer that worked for the small airport was staring at Imogen.

  It also hadn’t surprised me, fifteen minutes ago, when the man had ‘randomly’ pulled Imogen out of the line and informed her that she needed to be checked more in-depth.

  Lucky for him that he chose the woman to do the searching, because had it been that man, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my temper in check.

  “She’s been in there forever,” I grumbled. “Not to mention she’s holding up the fucking line.”

  “How did she get ahead of you anyway?” Truth wanted to know. “This is ridiculous.”

  We looked at the line in front of us, and I agreed with a grunt.

&n
bsp; “She wanted me to grab her a fuckin’ coffee,” I grumbled.

  The man in front of me finally made it through the line, and I stepped up, my glare well and truly ferocious.

  Ferocious enough to cause the man to worry.

  “Place the contents of your pockets in here,” the man ordered.

  I did, dropping everything I had in my pocket into the basket, and then placed my carry on through the scanner.

  “If you’ll step through the detector.” The man gestured forward, his hand shaking like a leaf.

  I grinned causing Truth to start chuckling behind me.

  I did as directed, stepping through the metal detector and stopping on the other side to gather my belongings before turning to continue glaring at the man while Truth followed through behind me.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice you singling her out,” I told the stupid man.

  The man visibly jolted.

  “I did no such thing.”

  I snorted. “I saw your eyes on her the moment she walked up to your line. Trust me, I’m not stupid, nor am I very happy with your behavior.”

  With that I left, but only managed to go about ten feet before turning and waiting for Imogen to return from the curtained off area that they sent her to.

  The entire time the security officer kept looking over his shoulder at me, wondering if he needed to call superiors.

  Though, I bet it was fear that I’d call him out on his unprofessional behavior to his supervisor that prevented him from making that call.

  “They probably think you’re a terrorist.”

  I snorted.

  “I’m about as far from a terrorist as you could get.”

  “You’re wearing your cut. You’re glaring. You’re holding your body aggressively. There’s nothing not intimidating about you,” he drawled.

  Before I could answer or contradict his statement, Imogen finally threw open the curtain, her face a mask of annoyance.

  “She looks pissed,” Truth teased.

  She looked a little beyond pissed. In fact, I would classify her mood more as irate.

  The woman following behind her said something to her back, and her spine stiffened.

  The entire time she was walking toward me I could tell that she was extremely upset, and I wondered if it was very illegal to yell at a woman and threaten to kick her ass in a public airport.

  She stomped up to me, stopped directly in front of me, and blew out a breath.

  “Apparently, I’m not allowed to have my nail clippers since it has a nail file on it,” she said. “And, apparently, I’m not allowed to have any of my shampoo—which she poured out into the trash, by the way—because the bottles are too big. And to top it off, I’m pretty sure I had sex with her.”

  I blinked.

  “What?” I barked.

  “Well, is finger banging sex?” she asked for clarification.

  I blinked, then shook my head. “No.”

  Then I thought about what she was saying and my back stiffened.

  “Did she touch you inappropriately?” I asked carefully.

  She sighed. “Felt like it, but was probably more routine than actual finger banging.”

  Truth coughed a laugh at my side, and I turned my glare at him.

  “We’re going to have to file a complaint,” I told her. “Mother fuckers had you back there for over forty minutes. If we’d been on a scheduled flight, we would’ve missed the plane. Not to mention that if you had to question whether or not it was inappropriate, it likely was inappropriate behavior.”

  She sighed.

  “I’m ready to get the hell out of here,” she informed me. Then a thought occurred to her. “Why, if we’re flying on a private plane, did you have to go through airport security?”

  “This is airport policy,” Truth muttered. “Anyone that goes back on the tarmac has to be screened for weapons that could possibly interrupt the integrity of another plane, or cause harm to other flyers and employees.”

  “I noted they didn’t check the dog anywhere near as closely as they did me.” She huffed, looking down at Tank at my feet who’d been sitting there quietly for the last half hour while this was taking place. “I’m ready to go. Can we go?”

  Truth grinned, and I tossed my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my body.

  “Though she looks like a little hobbit, she’s actually quite feisty,” Truth said as he fell into step beside us.

  Imogen turned only her head to glare at him.

  “That’s right. Don’t you forget it.”

  “What are you really mad about?” I asked suddenly.

  She refused to answer for a few long seconds before she finally said something so softly that I couldn’t quite make it out.

  “One more time?” Truth and I said at the same time.

  “She kept my freakin’ Twix bar!”

  I blinked, then a slow grin started to light my face.

  I, at least, managed not to laugh.

  Truth, though, had no such compunction.

  He bent himself over and bellowed with laughter in the middle of the goddamn airport.

  An hour later, we set down on the tarmac in Longview, Texas.

  The first thing I did after we got into our rental was to find the first gas station I could, where I went in and got her a Twix.

  She ate it in its entirety the moment I placed it silently on her lap.

  The woman was the definition of hangry.

  Chapter 14

  This life would kill me if I didn’t have you. And chocolate. I have to have chocolate, too. Chocolate makes me happy.

  -Imogen’s secret thoughts

  Imogen

  “I really think he needs to take it back home,” Aaron’s sister-in-law, Masen, explained as she ran her hand through the space between Tank’s ears. “He built it from the ground up. It was his baby, and now he doesn’t even want it. Booth was instructed to take it to the junkyard. Instead, he took it to the body shop and had it repaired. Repainted. And it’s been sitting in our garage ever since.”

  I looked over to Masen, who had been staring at the truck, was now looking at me. It was almost as if she was worried that if she didn’t get the words out, she’d break down and start crying.

  “He’s missed,” she repeated. “Booth misses the hell out of him and constantly worries about him.”

  I bit my lip.

  I’d gotten to know Masen and Booth really well over the last few days.

  I could see now why Booth would want to stay here. It was very apparent the moment I saw the two of them together that they were close, and always would be.

  Masen was a hoot, even though her husband was pretty standoffish.

  I could tell he was suspicious of me.

  Then again, I didn’t blame him.

  Not after the stories I’d heard over the weekend.

  Fucking Lynn.

  If I could kill her without having to go to jail—which, let’s be honest, there’s no chocolate or good hair conditioner in jail—I’d do it. Gladly. With a fucking smile on my face.

  Because fuck her.

  “He doesn’t want to drive it because it reminds him of her,” Masen continued. “Even though he had such good memories in it before that. Callie was conceived on the hood of this baby.”

  I choked on my saliva and stared at her with humor lighting my eyes.

  “Let’s not tell him that. He’ll likely have a shit fit and refuse to drive it on principle alone,” I told her. “Let me think about how to do this, and see if I can convince him.”

  She gave me a grateful smile, then frowned.

  “Shit.”

  “What?” I asked.

  Then I heard it. The distant crying of a baby.

  “Thought Booth had her,” I asked, stating the obvious.

  She pursed her lips. “My breasts don’t care who has her.”

  I couldn’t help myself a
nd looked down, wincing when I saw the front of her shirt start to form a wet circle around both breasts.

  “I don’t think I want kids,” I told her. “Not after the things you’ve told me this weekend.”

  She smiled then, and it was a good smile.

  “The infection I got was rare. As was the blood loss. It’s possible, sure, but it’s also not something that happens often,” she said as she gathered up what she’d come out here for. “But you couldn’t convince Booth of that. He’s acting like I am a delicate flower, when all I really want to do is get back on my feet.”

  I picked up the other candy bar wrapper from the table and dropped it into the trash can.

  “But you feel better now, right?” I teased.

  She nodded her head. “I think I probably should’ve stopped at the fourth snack-size Snickers, though. I’m so full I could pop.”

  She’d come out here on the pretense of showing me something, and instead had gone to the freezer and pulled out a bag of snack-size Snickers and started to devour them.

  Only after she had three did she think to offer me one, which I readily took.

  I’d been too afraid to ask her for one while she was stuffing herself, though.

  “You stay out here. I’ll tell Aaron where to find you,” she instructed when I went to follow her out the door.

  I stopped her.

  “You have chocolate on your mouth. Might want to take care of that before you head inside,” I told her.

  She scrubbed her face with her hand sheepishly.

  “Thanks.”

  With that she started hurrying toward the house, leaving me here as I thought about what to do.

  Tank followed her, but instead of going all the way inside, he found himself a sunny spot in the middle of Booth’s immaculate yard and collapsed on his side, stretching out fully before letting his head fall to the ground with a groan.

  I turned my head away from the big ball of fur and muscle. I couldn’t think about him right now. I had to think about the problem at hand—well, this problem at hand. There were a lot of problems that Aaron was facing right now, this being the current one.