by D. D. Prince
Busy was good.
“Save it,” I said with an eyeroll.
Jenna leaned against the doorframe in my procedure room and continued on as if I hadn’t eyerolled her. “He generally takes women out in his truck. The back of the bike is apparently pretty sacred to him. Never takes a biker bunny on the back of his bike. To Spence, that’s reserved for girlfriends or old lady material.”
I stared at her a second. Her face was splitting into a smile. I shook my head. “He… I… We…”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Just thought you’d wanna know since, you know, you’ve been on the back of that bike.”
“I told him I wasn’t looking for anything beyond last night. He agreed. You guys are making a big deal out of nothing.”
“Okay, well, if that’s the case, that’s the case, but Jojo is like a dog with a bone. She wants you in the crew. I mean, you’re already in the crew, but she wants you in the inner crew, the Valentine crew. She told me to get you to Sioux Falls this weekend. We’re all goin’ for a party at the clubhouse there. Big annual biker fish fry shindig every year on Good Friday. We’ll be coming back Saturday for the Forker card game, and Sunday’s Easter dinner. Are you coming to Ella’s?”
“Ella texted and invited me. I told her I’ll come for cards, maybe, but I have dinner with my family on Sunday.”
“Well, Friday is a must-do. The Falls clubhouse is massive and has plenty of room for out-of-towners. You wanna come, I’ll call Delia, the president’s wife, and ask her if there’s a spare room for you. Unless, you know… you bunk in Spencer’s room.”
I shook my head. “No reason for me to go to a biker party in another town.”
“No?” Jenna asked.
“No. It was just sex, Jenna.”
“Was it bad sex?”
“Huh?”
“Was it bad? Ella said that a biker bunny from Sioux Falls who has slept with every guy in that club under fifty told her Spencer’s like the Energizer Bunny. That he can go all night. Said he had a big dick, too, and insinuated he knows how to use it well. Deanna tells me you told her you guys went at it for 3 plus hours and she said you were practically limping leaving the clubhouse before he swooped down and threw you over his shoulder like king alpha, just like Deacon did when he claimed Ella. She said he took you back up to his room and gave you the business again. Loud.”
“Why do people have to be so gossipy,” I grumbled.
She giggled. “He wanted more. If it was just sex---"
“You’re reading too much into this. Everyone is.”
And if Spencer was, as I suspected, among everyone, he had to get set straight.
“Not to mentioned he marked you, for everyone to see.” She touched my throat, my hickey.
I winced. “Back off. Personal bubble.”
“Hah! Is Spencer the only one allowed in your bubble?”
I rolled my eyes.
“So, was it bad sex?” she asked, and I heard the door chimes jingle. Jenna, still in my doorway, looked off to the side.
“No, it wasn’t bad sex,” I admitted, glazing over a little in memory. “In fact, it was the best sex of my life. But, it was only sex. It isn’t going anywhere.”
“Shit,” she grumbled. “Sorry.”
“Huh?”
Officer Brice Hodges poked his head in. “Hey Pippa.”
“Hi.” I got up. Yikes. There was a buffer zone. People couldn’t hear me talk when they stopped at reception like they were supposed to do!
He gave me an all-business look. “Talk to you a minute?”
I nodded. Jenna moved out of the doorway, giving me a big-eyed look and he stepped in and shut the door behind himself.
“I wanted to stop in and apologize for the fact that the ball got dropped with Reardon getting released. You should’ve been told. That’s not on me, but I’ll personally make sure you’re informed of anything I am allowed to share from here on out.”
“Oh.”
“I also want to ask you to submit a report about what happened, him showing up at your apartment the other night. You haven’t come by the station, so I wanted to stop in while I was in this area.”
“Oh.”
God, I must’ve sounded like a bimbo. But I was barely cognizant of anything other than wondering… did he hear what I said, and did he know it was about his cousin?
“Follow me there? I’m heading there now if you’re done for the day. If you don’t have a car, you can ride in the squad car.”
“I have one more customer appointment, actually, but I could meet you there.”
“Gotcha. I… didn’t know what facts you planned to share about the Dominion Brotherhood’s involvement that night.”
He let that hang.
I shook my head. “I left my brother’s apartment when I found Joe there. I was frightened and upset so I ran out, didn’t even shut the door. Spencer Valentine,” I paused and gave him a meaningful look, “who is a friend of mine, ran into me and I told him what happened, so he said he would be sending someone to make sure that Joe was no longer in my brother’s apartment and that the door was locked. I’m not sure what happened after that.”
He winked. “Right. See you at the station.”
“I’ll be there around 7:00.”
He gave me a nod and left.
Jenna was poking her head back in seconds later. “Oh wow. That might’ve been the hottest cop I’ve ever seen not on television.”
Brice was blond, muscled, and with a chiseled jaw. He was a tad on the shorter side at maybe Jenna’s height (and Jenna had a rule about guys being taller than her in heels), but was very good-looking.
Lulu trailed in behind her, mouth agape. “I’d like to ride his squad car…”
“I think it’s genetic,” I muttered.
Jenna tilted her head in confusion.
“Because he’s related to your hot biker boyfriend,” I said, matter-of-factly.
“Huh?” Jenna asked.
“Brice is new on the police force here. Spencer said he’s their cousin. That’s on the downlow, though. I probably shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”
“What was he doing here? I’m gonna torture Rider if he’s keeping secrets from me!”
I filled them in on Brice’s involvement in my case, and at the end of the conversation asked, “Did he hear what I said? The just sex thing?”
“Yep.”
Shit.
“The best sex of my life thing?” I pleaded with my eyes.
“Definitely,” Jenna informed. “He didn’t wait at the desk. He strolled right over so I didn’t get a chance to warn you.”
“Damn it!” I stomped a foot.
“Sorry, chickie.”
I didn’t want that getting back to Spencer. I didn’t want anything about what he and I had done getting spread around. It was clearly already the topic of conversation in the friend group and I didn’t want to fuel it. I certainly didn’t want him to hear about me saying it’d been the best sex of my life.
No guy needed that ego-swelling information. Ever. It was better to keep that shit to yourself and not let them know they had the power to wrap you around their finger (or other appendage) in a dick-daze, cock-fog, or whatever.
Maybe Brice didn’t suspect it was Spencer. Yeah, I’d go with that for now. It was all I had to hold onto.
My phone rang. Call display showed it was the client who was due in shortly. I answered, and she told me she had to cancel on me, had to work late. I rescheduled her and closed up my room, saying bye to the girls on the way out.
As I headed back to my car in the back alley, I saw Jojo laughing with Brice by the back stairs, near where his squad car was parked.
Jojo waved at me, enthusiastically.
“Hey,” I greeted. “Brice, my appointment canceled so I was just gonna head to the station.”
“I’ll follow. Police escort.” He hugged Jojo who was smiling big at me.
“See ya later.” I gave her a smile.
My expression dropped. Nothing more than casually was what I meant. I couldn’t actually verbalize that. She tilted her head curiously at my expression change.
***
When I got to the station, I recounted what’d happened the previous day, when I was told Joe had tried to commit suicide, as well as what had happened the night before that.
Brice and another cop (an older female cop), told me he would be released from the psych ward after the typical holding period for suicide attempts, back into police custody pending his actual trial as he’d broken the conditions of his release into house arrest by a) leaving the property and b) by contacting me, especially with the no contact order. They asked how he got in and I told them I had no idea, that he wouldn’t have had a key and that I was sure I’d locked the door.
I let them see the texts from Jan and Penny, then Brice forwarded himself the screenshot of the suicide note that I’d said I hadn’t read as well as the strange unknown video link texts, of which there were now four.
“More music,” he told me.
I shrugged.
The trial was apparently scheduled for a month and a half away. Joe wouldn’t be allowed out between now and then and that made me breathe easier.
Brice was Mr. Professional Officer of the Law with me, which was a relief. Maybe he didn’t overhear the conversation with me and Jenna.
Or maybe he’d at least keep his mouth shut about it.
***
When I pulled into the little parking lot beside the flower shop, Spencer’s pickup truck was there.
He got out when he saw me pull in. In his hand was a plastic bag with a big stapled shut paper bag inside it.
Take-out food. My suspicion? Chinese takeout.
“Hi?” I greeted, but tried to exude confusion. Like… what are you doing here? Like… why are you here unannounced?
He dismissed my attitude completely, leaned over, and put his lips to mine. I didn’t kiss him back; I gave him a serious, annoyed look.
“How was your day? Well, half day?” he asked.
“Fine. What are you doing here?” I tried harder to exude annoyance, because he was either ignoring it or missing it.
He leaned forward and touched my gold teardrop loop earring affectionately. “Brought food from that place down the road. Figure I’d feed ya and then maybe you’d let me watch you do yoga.” He winked and gave me the dimple.
“Um, Spencer…” I started, but I felt my aggravation beginning to dim.
“C’mon, sunshine. Food’s gettin’ cold. Plus, I wanna look at your door. I brought a chain lock for you.”
“There’s already a chain lock,” I said.
He reached for my hand and tugged me along, playfully, heading to the door.
I felt flustered, but went along.
As I reached for the doorknob with the key, he snatched them from my hand. I looked up. He smiled, examined the knob, jiggled it, then unlocked the door and opened it for me. He waved me up the stairs. I gave him a snotty look and started trudging up the stairs.
I got to the top and waited. I waited, because he still had my keys and had to unlock the top door. He was checking out the bottom door lock.
Finally, he was behind me. “You mad?” he whispered into my ear and kissed the shell of it. The way he asked made it seem like he would be happy if I was.
For some reason, this made me smile and made my shoulders loosen.
Food aromas wafted through the alcove we were in, and my belly suddenly felt empty. I hadn’t eaten since the diner that morning.
“Unlock the door and feed me, then,” I grumbled.
“You’re cute,” he whispered and stuck the key in the door.
“You’re trouble…” I replied, trying to ignore the belly dip he’d just given me.
He snickered and gave the door a shove, motioning for me to go ahead.
“No chain up here. I’ll install that. You can set it at night. It has a blaring alarm, so if someone kicks your door in, it’ll make a loud as fuck noise and give you a chance to call the cops. But that lock down there, too Mickey Mouse. Need a new deadbolt. He probably broke in with a credit card.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll tell my brother and he can tell his landlord.”
He looked around the space once inside and locked the door.
“My brother’s taste. Not mine,” I defended.
The big giant leather couch was comfy, and my brother had an awesome TV, but this was most definitely a bachelor pad.
“How long you stayin’?” Spencer asked.
“He’s gone a couple months. He won’t take money, so I might as well bank it and save up. Maybe I’ll buy a place when he gets back. There are some sweet condos not far from the salon.”
Spencer smiled. “Good plan. This place ain’t bad, though.”
It wasn’t great. Small, cluttered, and an old battered-looking kitchen. At least I had privacy.
He put the food on the coffee table and I went to the kitchenette to grab plates.
“So, uh, Brice popped in to the salon,” I said, conversationally.
“I know,” he replied, and he was smirking at the bag of food as he unpacked it.
My face went hot. Shit. Brice told him what he’d heard me say. I could just feel it.
I decided to feign ignorance, blissful ignorance, so kept talking. “Yeah, so I reported what happened the other night, not saying anything that would incriminate the Doms, except that you were gonna make sure this place was locked up. Dunno if they’ll come to you about it.”
“No worries.”
I set plates, a few serving spoons, and two forks on the table. “Um, what do you want to drink?”
“What do you got?”
I opened the fridge. “Coke, orange juice, root beer, water, milk, vitamin water.”
“Coke.”
“What did you get us to eat?” I asked.
There were seven cartons of Chinese food on the table. For just two of us.
He rattled off a list that included a great selection of stir fry meat and veggies, fried rice, a beef and noodle dish, egg rolls, and some soup.
“You got all my favorites,” I said, astonished.
He gave me a lazy smile. “I remembered what you like.”
I tilted my head a second and then it dawned. He and Joe and I had Chinese one night watching a hockey game at Joe’s place a few weeks after we’d met Spencer. Around 6 months back. How could I have forgotten?
Spencer picked it up on his way over from the place a few doors down from here and brought it to Joe’s. This place was my favorite. He’d called Joe’s cell to find out what food we wanted, and I’d answered and told him to swing by the Chinese place and listed out all my must-haves.
That night all those months ago, I’d overeaten and fallen asleep early, on the couch, but in a move that wasn’t typical of me, woke up when one of Joe’s roommates had come home, seeing Spencer and Joe had left.
I waited up. For hours.
When Joe came back alone, I suspected he’d been drinking, but he hadn’t smelled like booze. He told me they went for a drive for Spencer to pick up cigarettes. I remembered thinking he was lying to me. He seemed agitated and then excessively horny. In fact, he’d been insatiable that night, but something about his demeanor bothered me.
Spencer remembered my food choices from that night?
My throat went dry at that, and I kind of wanted to ask about that night, if that was all they’d really done.
No, that’s looking in the past. I had already decided to try to keep facing forward.
Spencer’s back was to me while he was unpacking the cartons and containers of food onto the coffee table.
“I’ll just go change,” I said and dashed to the closet, grabbed some clothes and zipped into the bathroom.
I needed a minute for some reason, and the bathroom was the only other room in the apartment to use in order to catch my
breath. Well, other than the walk-in closet.
I changed into uber casual clothes and then stepped out and found him waiting for me.
“This smells awesome,” I told him.
“It does. I eat there once a week; they know me by name. You turned me onto it that time I had it with you---” He stopped talking. He’d almost said Joe’s name. Instead, his jaw muscles flexed.
I decided to dig into food to ignore the awkwardness.
***
So, we sat on the big couch and ate from the coffee table, while streaming Seinfeld episodes, and not talking. Weirdly comfortable and companionable silence, though, despite the awkwardness just before we dug in. The TV show was a good buffer, I guess.
When something was funny, we laughed. There was zero awkwardness, surprisingly. Except that I couldn’t help but think about how good he looked. He wore a jade green button-down shirt that was rolled to his elbows, faded charcoal jeans that were frayed in strategic places, and his Dominion Brotherhood cut along with scuffed but not dirty black motorcycle boots. And as he ate, his hair kept falling into his eyes. He needed a trim, but it looked good. Oh, and he had a five o’clock shadow, which also looked good. I wasn’t into facial hair on a guy as far as beards or goatees or soul patches (blech – just not my jam), but as for that sandpaper feel? The five o’clock shadow? I was definitely a sucker for that.
Part way through the second episode and after my second plate of food, I curled up into a ball and my eyes were more focused on his corded forearms than the screen while I watched him continue to eat, masterfully with chopsticks in a way that made me jealous. He didn’t use his fork at all and didn’t drop things three times before getting them to his mouth like me.
Before long, I zonked out.
***
I woke up, still curled in a ball, but behind me was a wall of warmth that smelled like Spencer.
Um…that’s because it was Spencer.
He was spooning me, his arm around my waist. My knees were pulled toward my belly and my fanny was nestled into his groin. Shit. I looked around me. What time was it?