by Anna Lewis
The bliss pooled in my stomach, the electrical buzzing was rocking through my system, my brain was swimming with dizziness. And the waves of pleasure cascaded over me, taking me to a place that I hadn’t been before. I’d had an intense orgasm the last time me and Adam had sex, but it was nothing like this.
This was full of future, full of love, and I couldn’t wait to see where that took us.
As we both fell apart, panting and breathless, I sent Adam a happy smile. We were finally on the same page, after ten years of being all over the place. Now that we’d made it back together that time didn’t feel wasted, it felt like we’d needed that time to grow, to find ourselves, and now we were finally ready for a commitment.
“I’m going to make you my wife,” Adam promised me with a serious glint in his eye. “I’m going to whisk you away, take you somewhere special, and make an honest woman out of you.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” I replied honestly. “I love you, and I would love to be your wife... just let me get dressed first. Then you can officially make me forever yours.”
As he smirked at my joke, my soul filled with joy. This was it, forever more. I was going to have a baby with Adam Martin, and while it hadn’t happened in the most traditional way possible, it was still perfect for us.
Finally, I had everything that I ever wanted, and that settled a comfortable happy sensation in the pit of my stomach. One that I’d spent half my life searching for.
THE END
= Bonus Book 7 of 12 =
Shadows
Cold air raised gooseflesh on her skin as Whitney Shearing stepped off the bus in Cedar Breeze, Montana. Spring was on its way, but there was no warmth in her heart for the town she’d left. She wanted nothing to do with the place she’d grown up in. It was like a black hole that sucked people in, and kept them forever imprisoned.
She had the urge to get back on the bus, but she wouldn’t do that to her mother. The passing of her grandfather was enough to force Whitney into traveling the hour to get there, but it didn’t seem like a great reason to stay.
A cool breeze whipped at the nape of her neck. Whitney drew her coat tight about her, and clutched her duffle bag closer to her side. She wished more than anything she didn’t have to face her family. One person in particular she wished to avoid. She intended this visit to be brief.
The sound of a Harley Davidson revving its engine off in the distance sent chills down her spine as she looked up the street for a taxi. None were in sight. Her mother’s house wasn’t too far. All the same, Whitney opted to wait around for a few more minutes.
The home she grew up in wasn’t the warmest place on earth anyway. As long as her mother was still married to Duke, the place would always feel ice cold. There was no way she was going to hurry to get there.
“You’re gonna have to walk down to Mulberry Street to get a taxi,” someone stated from behind her.
Whitney wasn’t in the mood to talk to strangers, she wasn’t even in the mood to speak to anyone she used to know. With a flick of her hands and nod of her head, she refused to turn around as she responded, “Thanks, but I’ll wait here for a few more minutes.”
“Always stubborn, but I can’t say I remember you being this rude,” the voice joked.
The voice was familiar, but she wasn’t interested. His piercing green eyes were unforgettable. She turned to face the man.
Julian Danes was her step-brother, and all-around good guy. However, he was number one on her list of people she had wanted to avoid. She had hoped to see her mother first.
“I’m not being rude,” she shot at him, rolling her eyes and turning back to stare down the street.
“You are,” he said. “But that’s fine. You can stare down the street all you want. Ain’t no cabs coming back here. This strip is for buses only. So unless you’re getting back on one, then you’ll have to head down to the taxi stand on Mulberry Street. That or you can come with me, and I’ll drop you off at the house.”
“Ugh.” She twisted her face in disgust. “I’m in no rush to get back there. I’d rather walk.”
The truth of the matter was, she didn’t want to be near Julian. There was a piece of her that couldn’t deny how close they used to be. With their history, they could tell when something was off with each other, but she did her best not to let him see he was bothering her.
“Did I do something wrong here?” he asked her.
He always could hit the nail on the head, she thought.
Whitney huffed. “You never did anything wrong. I just can’t stand your sperm donor. So forgive me if I’m in no rush to be under his roof. Not that it’s his.”
“Well when you say smart shit like that, I bet he doesn’t look forward to spending time with you either. Cut him some slack, we’ve been family for a while now,” Julian said. He grabbed her bag, making the decision for her, and walked over to his pickup truck.
The logo on the side was of a dog standing in front of some animated tools with the words, “Great Danes Auto Repair.”
Whitney was proud of him for making a living outside of that damned motorcycle club her stepfather was so insistent on being a part of. Looking at Julian, she couldn’t help but feel ripples of emotions run through her body. He made her feel as no other man had. Even when they first met, she had been sure that they’d end up together. Their parents had beat them to it.
Her memories of being a gawky teenager made Whitney blush as she hopped inside the truck. The strength of his hand on her back as he helped her up was a feeling she’d missed more than she’d thought.
“Do you remember the day we met?” Whitney asked, staring out of the window.
He smiled as he pulled into the street. “Of course I do. You were super skinny, and super awkward.”
“Oh, and you were so cool,” she scoffed.
“I was the definition of cool,” he smirked, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. He was tall and leaned back away from the steering column. Her bag was the only thing separating them in the front seat. His tone got a little deeper when he reached reach over and rubbed her knee, “I remember we shared a lot of firsts together.”
Whitney pulled away. “Don’t.”
“I was joking, just trying to lighten the mood. I mean, I don’t want to tiptoe around you. We have history. You just left and we were—well, I just want to be comfortable around you again, you know? Why can’t we joke around with each other, Whit?”
“We can, you can.” She shook her head refusing to meet his gaze. “I just have a lot on my mind you know? School, and Pawpaw. My mother. I don’t even want to imagine what she’s going through right now.”
“I get it,” Julian put his hand back on the steering wheel. “I just thought with the way you took off, it was because of how things ended between us.”
“Oh believe me, that didn’t make me want to stay, but it was a bunch of different stuff hitting the fan at once. Your dad didn’t help either,” she said.
“Yeah, he knows how to make a mess of things. Have you ever told your mother about us? Or anyone for that matter?”
“Of course not! Can you imagine what they’d say at the club?” Her mind wandered to the insatiable gossips at The Shock Bar.
The Shadows of Chaos motorcycle club was a group like no other. They feared no one, and did as they pleased in Cedar Breeze and beyond. The club often used the family bar as their meeting spot, and with her mother being the wife of their Vice President, it was cheaper for them to gather there.
“So how long before you go running back to school?” he asked snidely.
She knew what he was insinuating. Julian always made it perfectly clear to her that he thought she was a coward for running away from her problems. But instead of jumping down his throat, she sighed and answered politely. “I’ve been given some bereavement time. My teachers gave me two weeks. I turned in most of the work that was due during the time I’ll be out here, so I’m good on the school side of things. I get to foc
us my attention on you guys and the funeral.”
“Why don’t we hang out before you go?” he suggested, pulling up in front of her mother’s house.
“I guess we can,” she shrugged. Hanging out with Julian wasn’t on her list of things to do. If he knew the real reason she was uncomfortable being back home, she was sure she’d be the last person he’d want to spend time with. But that was a bridge she wasn’t ready to cross.
“Well we’re here.” She got out of the truck and waved to Julian before making her way inside the house. The sound of Duke’s voice came through the walls and into the front yard. The front yard, still barren of grass or any other living thing, was kicking up dust as she made her way up the rickety wooden stairs onto the front porch.
It had been such a long time since she’d been home, but it all felt the same. Twisting the knob, she stepped back into the house she lived in as a little girl. Long gone was the college sophomore, and there stood Whitney Shearing, the ten-year-old smart ass.
“Well look who decided to come back to boring old Cedar Breeze,” Duke snarled as she stepped into the living room, “Shame somebody’s gotta die for you to show your face ‘round here.”
“Now, you leave her alone,” her mother Molly called, as she hustled in.
“Hey Duke, thanks for having Jules come get me from the bus.” She forced a smile.
“That boy wasted time, gas, and company materials comin’ to get you, when you could’ve walked here with those long legs of yours? I’ll deal with him later,” he growled.
“Hi, Mom,” Whitney said, ignoring Duke’s threats. The two women hugged for what seemed forever. Her mother always smelled of fresh lilacs even though there wasn’t a single blade of grass growing on the lawn. She stepped back and looked into her big beautiful blue eyes, wishing she’d inherited them. Biting her lip, she asked, “How you holding up?”
“Now don’t go stirring the pot!” Duke clamored from his seat on the sofa, “I just got her to calm down!”
Whitney raised an eyebrow at her mother, who looked fine. She motioned for her to join her in the back. The front door opened straight on to the living room. Just off that room, to the right, stood the kitchen. There was a long hall leading to the rest of the bedrooms in the house. Duke and Molly occupied the first room. The other two were hers and Julian’s whenever they decided to stay.
Julian’s room was untouched while her own had been used as a makeshift storage room. She rolled her eyes as she dropped her bag on the floor and went to her mother’s room.
Molly Shearing-Danes could have been one of the most beautiful women in the world, but she had let her husband wear her down. The wrinkles around her eyes, the lines on her forehead, the roughness of her hands, all were signs of a woman working hard. In her case, at the family bar. “So, what was that about Puke calming you down?” she snickered.
Molly covered her mouth, trying to mask her giggle. “I haven’t heard you call him that in so long. What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“Just happy to see you. But seriously, are you okay?” Whitney asked again.
“I’m fine,” Molly smiled. She sat on the bed and began pulling at clothes in a laundry basket. After folding a few, she looked up to her daughter, who was watching her in disbelief, “Really, I am, Whit. Paw was sick for a long time and honestly, it was time for him to go. It’s good that he’s resting now. I will admit I’ve been a bit over the top with Duke because it’s made him nicer. He did the dishes this morning.”
“What?” Whitney had never seen Duke lift a finger to do a single chore inside the house.
“Truth be told, Paw left me and Ben the bar. I think he’s trying to butter me up so I’d sign it over. But if that’s his reason for being nice, along with my fits of tears, then I’ll take it. But what I haven’t told him is that I want you to run it.”
“You want what?”
***
The weather was unseasonably warm and the sun was bright. Whitney’s black dress clung to her breasts but flowed freely from the waist down. The breeze swayed as their tears spilled. A smile touched Molly’s lips as a cloud passed overhead. Her body swelled with every emotion but sadness. Whitney nudged her mother as people began to stare.
“I understand Paw was expected to pass, but these people don’t know that. You’re smiling,” she whispered.
Molly schooled her expression as Duke glared down at her, “Since you’re in such a good mood, why don’t you sign those papers for your husband like a good wife should?”
“Now’s not the time,” Molly spoke to him in a much sweeter tone than Whitney thought he deserved.
Julian was right behind them. Whitney’s uncle was nowhere to be seen. They marched from the entrance of the cemetery to Pawpaw’s burial plot. Whitney looked around at every man, woman, and child. Her grandfather had touched every single one of their lives.
Pawpaw Shearing hadn’t been frail. He didn’t travel with a walker or cane. He had ridden his Harley with pride, oxygen tank, emphysema, and all. There was no one who could out talk him, not a soul who’d dare to swindle him. He’d always fought to see women and children treated fairly, but there was never a place for them at the bar. He had been protective, misogynistic, sweet, selfish, charismatic, and boisterous. Pawpaw had been a complicated man who she would have loved to know better. He had also loved his son-in-law. The gleam in his eyes on Molly’s wedding day was one she’d never forget. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d found someone, but it could be that he and Duke were alike. Whitney refused to believe that.
After he was in the ground, Duke started at Molly again, “Okay, he’s in the ground now. Let’s get home so we can sign those papers.”
“I ain’t gonna sign nothing just yet!” Molly snapped. It was the first time Whitney had seen her mother be aggressive with Duke. She liked it.
“Don’t sass me woman! Not in front of all these people. I’ll knock you clear into next Sunday!” he growled.
“Like hell you will!” Whitney jumped to her mother’s defense.
Julian wasn’t going to stay silent either, “And you’ll do what? Run away to that fancy school of yours if he does? You don’t even like it here, so what’s it matter to you if she signs away that bar, anyway?”
“It matters because she’s going to run it for a while,” Molly told them.
“That doesn’t make any sense. She don’t know nothing about The Shock Bar!” Duke shouted.
“I know enough!” Whitney shouted back. “I’ve taken plenty of business classes. I practically grew up in that bar, and you know what? I don’t have to explain anything to you. This isn’t your decision to make. And to you Jules, if he lays a finger on her, you’ll see where I’ll run to and it won’t be to school.”
“Keep your threats to yourself, Whit.”
“Well at least there’s still one thinking man in this family.” Whitney shook her head and walked away. She’d had enough of her adoring stepfather. The funeral was over, and there was nothing anyone could say or do to make her hang around any longer.
While the mourners were sure to make their way to her mother’s house, Whitney had another place in mind. The row of bikes parked outside the bar let her know it wasn’t as empty as she’d thought it was going to be.
Walking into The Shock Bar was like taking a step into an alternate universe. The leather bar stools lined the entire length of the bar along the back wall. There were tables and chairs scattered around the floor with booths lining one wall with the other wall full of pictures and memorabilia.
The fellas inside the bar nodded their heads, and some even managed a smile. But it was the guy behind the bar, cleaning out a glass, that got her attention.
Benjamin Shearing was the spitting image of her Pawpaw, only he was a hell of a lot younger. His curly brown hair, and light hazel eyes glistened, even in the dim light of the room. That smile of his could light up the darkest day, and melt every care in the world. She loved the spirit of her Uncle. He wa
s carefree, but dependable. Most of all he loved her no matter what she did, and he showed it.
“So why weren’t you at the funeral?” She plopped down on one of the stools.
“I would serve you a drink but I don’t even think you’re twenty-one yet. Get outta here kid,” he joked.
“Not until you tell me why you weren’t at your dad’s funeral.” She folded her arms over her chest and refused to budge.
Ben pulled a lever, letting the amber colored, liquid flow into a tall glass which he slid down to a big guy with an enormous beard. Two thick grey and white braids dangled from his bandana framing the huge Shadows of Chaos patch on the back of his black leather vest. Whitney shook her head wondering why none of these guys were at the funeral. Her grandfather had been a part of the club when he was younger, and when he opened the bar some forty years ago, he welcomed them with open arms. She thought the place should have been closed for the day.
“Somebody’s gotta keep this business going. And if what I hear is correct, you’re coming to help out?” He cocked his head to the side as he wiped down the counter.
Whitney pulled the hair tie from her head, letting the thick, dark brown strands fall around her face. She knew it made her look younger, and she saw Ben smile.
“You look so much like Clay, I don’t know how your mother can stand it,” he told her, referring to her father.
Whitney didn’t know much about her father, Clay Samuels, except that he took off when she could barely walk. There were pictures of him in the bar, but no one would ever say anything about him. Ben was the only man who’d mention him by name. Perhaps it was her Pawpaw’s doing. No father would be able to stand the sight or mention of the man’s name who abandoned his daughter and her baby. But then why leave his pictures up?
She fumbled with her hair a bit more until she finally pulled it into a low ponytail. Whitney didn’t want to look like her father. “Why didn’t y’all just close for the day?”
Ben sighed as he approached Whitney, who was still staring him down from her seat. He stroked the side of her cheek, and tapped the bottom of her chin lightly.