Nomad's Bride (Death Skulls MC Book 1)

by Rachel Cade

  It happened so fast, she almost thought she hallucinated him.

  Except on the counter a paper rose sat where he’d been eating, and underneath it was a crisp twenty-dollar bill.

  Lyndie lifted the rose, staring at all the intricate corners, before glancing at her blank order pad.

  She’d never seen anything like it. Holding it delicately in her palm, she reached down and picked up the twenty with her other hand.

  Whole shifts she’d worked and never saw twenty dollars in tips.

  Lyndie quickly tucked it in her pocket.

  Two times she’d met him and on both he’d made her day a little better. On a low sigh, she held the paper gently to her chest.

  “Noa,” she said aloud.

  She just wanted to hear it on the air.

  That man was long gone, and she knew it.

  There was no way he’d go to Lil’ Apple.

  “Red like an apple, shaped like a brick.” Noa shut off his bike next to the office of the motel.

  Lil’ Apple motel. If it even qualified as that. There might have been four rooms. Noa raised his sunglasses before dismounting. After the walk back to his bike and taking the long way around to get here, he was in need of a shower and change of clothes.

  The sight of him pulling up might scare a grandma or two. Hopefully he could get a room without any issues.

  “Hello?” He tried to lighten the sound of his boots as he walked into the office. And he’d taken his wallet out to cut down on any sudden movements.

  “Yeah-” The young kid looked up from his phone.

  “I’d like a room.” Noa said quickly as the kid’s eyes widened.

  “What?” he asked, pulling his huge headphones back.

  Noa hated repeating himself. “I said I’d like a room. How much a night?”

  The kid furrowed his brow.

  “Twenty-five I’m pretty sure.”

  Noa quickly pulled out the cash. “You say twenty-five, you better be sure.”

  He placed the money on the table.

  The lanky kid continued to stare up at him from behind the counter, ignoring the money.

  “We usually don’t get customers, so… that’s why I had a hard time remembering.”

  “How do you stay open if you don’t have customers?”

  The young man didn’t seem to have an answer, so Noa left it alone.

  He slid a key across the table.

  “All the plumbing works, I hope. And I’m not going to have to shoot rats half the night?” Noa asked as he lifted the key.

  “The room’s on the far end. It’s clean ‘cause I did it myself, and rat free.”

  Noa nodded. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

  “Sure.”

  The kid’s voice cracked when he went through the door, and Noa was tempted to look back.

  Chapter Four:

  Baby Love

  Lyndie finally made it to the best part of her day.

  It was close to midnight and she sat in a comfy chair by her bed feeding Max.

  The seven-pound wonder was her whole world now.

  The news channel murmured in the background completely ignored as she stared down at her cherub-cheeked son. His sucking had slowed down, so she was sure he was about to fall asleep soon.

  Even a year ago, if someone had told her one day, she’d not only be a mom but breastfeeding, Lyndie would have laughed them out of the room.

  Having children was something she just assumed would happen one day.

  But she assumed it would be under better circumstances. Like being married to a man that genuinely cared about her and wanted a family. Who knew something that sounded so simple would be so hard to achieve? When she looked at Max in the quiet times like this, her overwhelming love was always shadowed by a pang of guilt. He deserved a better father than Will.

  At seven months, she’d gone into premature labor. It was the scariest thing that had ever happened to her, going in and out of consciousness, opening her eyes to see only strangers’ faces.

  For a while, she wasn’t sure if he was going to make it.

  Seeing his small body in an incubator, hooked up to so many tubes. She couldn’t even hold him…

  The memory of it would close her throat if she held on too long.

  Max pulled through it, though. Lyndie thanked God every day for her miracle and promised to do whatever she could to give him the best life possible.

  Now that he was asleep, Lyndie pulled him away from her breast and pulled the bra cup back into place. Gently, she held him over shoulder, softly patting his back the way the nurses showed her.

  For a long time, she held him, letting him sleep peacefully against her chest.

  It brought her a lot of peace too.

  A police siren.

  Noa could set his watch to the shit.

  On the open road, just out of town, he pulled over and glanced back.

  The first thing he saw was a tan cowboy hat.

  A curse muttered under his breath as a good ol’ boy emerged from the car.

  He didn’t appear old, but he approached with his hand on his holster. “Afternoon, sir.”

  Noa didn’t pull his shades back.

  “You’re aware riding a bike without a helmet is against the law in the State of Nevada?”

  “It is?” he asked as he checked the man’s nameplate. William Durand.

  “Yes.” The sheriff openly assessed him. “Can I see your license?”

  Noa kept his hands on the bar handle. “Is it alright for me to get it? Or should I be worried about your itchy trigger finger?”

  “Turn off the bike and retrieve your license, sir.”

  Sir, usually a term of respect.

  But in this case, it was just a word.

  Noa somehow held his smirk at the officer’s agitation.

  He turned off the bike and reached his gloved hand in his back pocket to pull out his ID. It was snatched as fast as it was offered.

  “Noa Cayless.”

  “It’s Callas,” he corrected.

  Local authority prick looked up, glancing over his tattoos. “Do you have any warrants, Mr. Cayless?”

  “I’m squeaky clean, officer.”

  “I’ll be right back.” The cop tipped the card in Noa’s direction. “You just hang tight.”

  “Fuck.” Noa rolled his eyes when he heard the officer’s car door open.

  Noa didn’t have any warrants and he wasn’t interested in getting harassed. Cops like this were dicks; if he didn’t have a reason, he’d find one just to amuse himself. Noa had other shit to do with his day.

  Once he heard the officer return, he turned his head to the side, waiting for eye contact and hopefully his fucking ID.

  “You must be passing through to the coast or something?” He noticed the officer’s attempt to lighten his voice.

  “I found my helmet while you were running your check.” Noa held it up, the scorpion artwork on the side glinted in the sun.

  The square jawed cop held out Noa’s ID. He pulled it away with a gloved thumb and index finger.

  “Enjoy your time in Nevada, sir. Far away from here.”

  There was no attempt to smile. In fact, Mr. Authority quietly stared him down from his standing position.

  Far away from here. He’d heard that plenty of times in his life.

  Noa plopped on the helmet and revved the engine, taking off to leave a cloud of dust on the side of the road. He watched in his rearview as the guy snatched off his hat to fan the dust.

  A grin filled out his mouth.

  The next morning, Lyndie was putting out fresh flowers in the mini vases on the counter when a knock shifted her attention to the front door.

  Noa was standing outside the glass door, his large body practically filling it.

  The sight of him was a shock. Her face, arms, everything immediately warmed.

  He pointed to the neon sign, just as she opened her mouth.

  He’d come back.


  She stared at him with the thought ringing in her head until she realized he gestured to ask if she was open.

  She nodded at him to answer.

  Today, he was still in black, but wearing a questionable t-shirt with fire lettering across the top. The jeans were still black, fitted.

  God were they fitted.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly as he closed the door behind himself.

  “Morning.” Lyndie actually felt goosebumps along her arms as he approached. The counter separated them, but it might as well not have.

  She took a breath before speaking. “What are you still doing here?”

  “You really know how to make a man feel welcome.” He made a face as he sat at the same stool he used the previous day.

  Lyndie shook her head, glancing at the lone braid that coned around his ear. “You know what I mean.”

  The ends of his hair were wet. Not enough to drip, but she still wanted to lean forward and touch it.

  “I’m not supposed to be here even after you tipped me off about a place to stay?” He squinted at her, and she wanted to tell him he looked like a pirate. A really hot one.

  Then she considered his words. “Wait. You went to Lil’ Apple?”

  His arms stretched out. “That’s what you told me to do.”

  “It was a suggestion.”

  “What the hell, Lyndie. Is it haunted or something?” He was teasing her, and she had to bite her laughter.

  “No… no.” She quickly tried to recall any stories. “No,” she said again, holding her finger against her lips. “I just didn’t think… Would you like a like a coffee?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cream and sugar.” She turned her back to him.

  Noa needed to see her out of her uniform.

  He needed it… a lot.

  “Thank you for the rose.” Her voice was very soft, barely heard above the percolator. She turned back to face him, and her smile was just as soft. “It was sweet.”

  Noa tried to recall in his mind a time anyone ever said anything he did was sweet and quickly came up empty.

  “It was supposed to be a desert rose.” He watched as she grabbed a mug and set it in front of him. “That’s you.”

  “No.” She grabbed the coffee pot and filled his mug a third of the way up. “That’s not me.”

  Noa didn’t try to argue with her, watching as she bit her lip.

  Small bags were under her eyes. He assumed it was from a night of bad sleep, or no sleep. He could relate.

  They really should try to help each other out with that.

  “Jeff’s the only one that can touch the stove. Will you be okay with leftovers again?”

  “More than okay.”

  Bacon, eggs, and waffles were in front of him five minutes later.

  The smell alone wet his tongue.

  “Here you go.”

  “You ate already this morning?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Did you eat already?” he repeated.

  Lyndie tugged at her ear. “I’ll get something.”

  Noa picked up his fork. “Grab a plate. Split this with me.”

  “No. I can’t eat your food. You’re a customer.”

  “Is this place open yet?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Then I’m not a customer.”

  “Noa…” He liked the sound of his name on her lips.

  It wasn’t going to be the last time she said it.

  “Just one waffle and a few eggs,” she said in defeat before adding, “I’ll get you mo-”

  Raised brows cut her off.

  She pulled out an extra plate and was quiet as he split the egg and waffle.

  “You’re sure it’s a no on the bacon?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered with a smile.

  It was the first time he noticed it. The sadness behind her eyes. It was like a jolt and an anvil hitting him at once. He knew that look, only someone who’d seen more than their share of pain had it.

  “What is it with the scorpion tattoo?” she asked, gesturing toward his hands.

  The question caught him off guard.

  “Nickname,” he answered quickly, subtly watching her eat. “It just stuck.”

  “Your nickname is Scorpion?”

  “Skorpio.”

  “Skorpio?” she repeated with raised brows. “How did that come about?”

  Noa almost hissed. It was really too early in the morning for that story. He decided to give her the PG version. “Well when I was younger, I had a few scorpions I found, so I kept them as pets. I started to get known for it.” He took a sip of coffee. “My dad’s from Greece and he started telling me about the mythology, and I learned about Scorpio and started using the name.”

  “Your dad’s from Greece?” She seemed surprised.

  “And my mom’s Samoan,” he added, filling his mouth with bacon.

  Lyndie cleared her throat. “That’s a serious combination.”

  Noa shrugged.

  They ate in silence for a bit.

  “I got pulled over yesterday.”

  Lyndie straightened from the counter, her head leaned hard to the side. “What happened?”

  “I was riding without my helmet.”

  “And why were you doing that?”

  “I like to feel the wind in my hair.”

  “It’s a nice head of hair.”

  “Thanks.”

  “That still doesn’t mean you should do it. You get into an accident… that’s it.”

  Noa nodded gravely. “I won’t do it again.”

  “You must not have been in town. It would have been all over.”

  “Just outside.” He was close to finishing the coffee. “The cop’s name was William Durand. Do you know him?”

  Her face went flatter than a sheet.

  “Yeah… I do. He’s the town Sheriff.”

  Noa rolled his jaw. “He would be.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “Not much. He checked my license and let me go.”

  “Noa.” His name was a warning. “This is why I was trying to tell you to go. He’s not going to rest until you’re out of here.”

  The worry in her eyes was the only thing that gave him pause. “I don’t scare off easy, Lyndie.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” She kept her voice low like they weren’t alone. “But it’s different out here. Will and Mr. Langley, they run this town.”

  “Who’s Langley?” He leaned forward and hoped she would too. So he could get a closer look at her full mouth, that plush spot between those amazing dimples.

  “He’s the dad of the guy at the gas station. Old as dirt, rich. You can’t throw a penny around here without it landing on something he owns.”

  “Including this spot?”

  “No. One of the few. This is Mitch’s place. My boss.”

  “Anything else this Langley doesn’t own?”

  “That warehouse past the gas station. It’s been abandoned for a while.”

  He remembered seeing it the first day he rode into town.

  Lyndie sped through eating, and he noticed she kept looking out the window.

  “Lyndie, I wanted to-”

  “Holy shit.”

  Noa was surprised to hear her swear, but his joke was cut off.

  “You have to go! My boss just turned into the parking lot.” She snatched their dishes from the counter.

  Noa stood up. “He’ll see me if I go out the front.”

  “There’s a back way.”

  She quickly led him through the small kitchen, leaving the dishes in the sink, before taking him to the door that lead to the back of the parking lot.

  The diner still wasn’t officially open, and he didn’t want her to get into trouble.

  Noa turned on the asphalt to face her as she was about to shut the door, whispering, “I want to see you again, Lyndie.”

  She stared down at him, panic rushing her words. “No you don’t
. I have a baby.”

  “Figured those diapers were for somebody,” he said as she was about to shut the door the second time. “Is it okay for me to come back?” he asked quickly.

  Her eyes squinted, then she looked down at his boots before glancing behind her.

  “I don’t work tomorrow,” she whispered, “but I’ll be here Sunday morning.”

  “Okay. Thanks for breakfast,” he whispered back.

  “Yeah. Thanks for sharing.” She quickly shut the door.

  He didn’t like that they were interrupted, but at least she agreed to see him again.

  Lyndie’s face was flushed as she walked back toward the front of the diner. Hopefully Noa could sneak away without being seen.

  They were getting a big shipment and Mitch mentioned he’d be by, but she expected the delivery man to show up before he did.

  I want to see you again, Lyndie.

  The right thing to do was say no.

  That quick, simple word.

  Instead, she told him about her son, knowing it would send him packing.

  Is it okay for me to come back?

  It wasn’t.

  But Lyndie’s heart spoke up instead of her head. As if it hadn’t gotten her in enough trouble already.

  “Morning, sir.” The rest of her thoughts cut off as Mitch came through the front door in a deep purple silk shirt. “Can I get you a coffee?”

  For the next week, Noa showed up and they had coffee and breakfast together every morning. They kept it to no longer than forty-five minutes so Noa would have time to disappear before patrons started pouring in. Aside from her time with Max, it was the brightest part of her day.

  Lyndie still had no expectations that he would be around long. But she didn’t mind stealing a few moments with a rose-carrying scorpion.

  With a smile on her face, she locked up the diner. Soon she’d be holding her munchkin and kissing the top of his soft head.

  Will was casually leaning against the back of her car.

  “Evening, Lyndie.”

  Her good mood crashed, but she didn’t halt her step. “Everything is getting paid for, so…”

  “I know. I’m glad you’ve been handling your finances.”

  Lyndie didn’t openly sigh, despite wanting to. This was Sheriff Will. The guy everyone in town liked. Where was the other Will? The real one.