by Burke, Dez
“I regret like hell not being there for Sam when he needed me the most,” Flint continued. “I was only twenty at the time and barely more than a teenager myself but still...I should’ve seen that Sam needed his older brothers. Needed me.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Kendra said softly. “Like you said, you were young too. And going through the pain of losing your mom. Taking care of someone else’s needs probably wasn’t high on your list of priorities at the time.”
He shook his head. “That’s not a good excuse. Leaving Sam there to deal with Dad was too much for a kid to handle. Thank God for Jesse. When I left, he stepped up like a man and started helping out around the house. He was the brother I should have been.”
Flint had never told anyone his feelings of guilt where Sam was concerned. He’d never even admitted it to himself until after the phone call came about Tommy’s death. For years, he’d managed to keep a distance between himself, his family, and the MC.
After moving to Atlanta, he’d eventually enrolled in college more as a joke than anything else. He never expected to do so well. Many years later, he found himself working for the Public Defender’s office and was quickly on his way to earning a name for himself. Not one time had Flint ever regretted the hard choices he’d made. Not until Tommy’s death.
“So what’s it like now between you and Sam?”
“Strained.” Flint let out a humorless laugh. “Tense most of the time. He resents anything and everything I say or do.”
“Jesse said he owned a tattoo parlor.”
“Yes, he does. The Liberators hit it last night as well.”
“Was there a lot of damage?” Kendra didn’t let on that she already knew about the attack.
“Enough,” Flint replied. “The plate glass window on the front of the store was broken when they threw the Molotov cocktail through it. That’s about it. The bottle didn’t explode and ignite a fire, thank God. The Liberators were sending us a message. That’s why I’m so eager to get back to town. To help Sam repair the shop and put it back together. Plus it’s our primary source of income, so we need to open for business as soon as possible.”
Kendra blinked in confusion. “Wait a minute! You said “our” source of income. Are you a tattoo artist too?”
Moment of truth.
In a split second, Flint realized he didn’t want her to know the truth about what he did, or used to do, for a living. He didn’t want her to know he had been a respected attorney who defended poor clients. For some reason, he felt a compelling need for her to like him as he was now. For what he was now.
Good or bad, it wouldn’t be fair to let her believe he was something better than he was.
“I dabble,” he replied, a smile playing around his lips. “I can do a pretty mean tat.” Which wasn’t an outright lie. He’d done hundreds of tattoos in his life. It just wasn’t what he had gone to college for four years and then on to law school to learn how to do. Though compared to the money he made as a public defender, he might have been better off doing tattoos from the beginning.
“Have you ever thought about getting one?” he asked casually.
Kendra laughed and shook her head. “I can honestly say that no, I’ve never considered getting a tattoo. Don’t they hurt?”
“Not too bad if the person doing them is experienced and fast.”
Flint quickly slid over. Turning her around slightly, he tugged the hem of her sweater up. Kendra jumped when his fingers touched her lower back. He traced an outline slowly, delicately with both hands.
She gasped. “What are you doing?”
“A hummingbird,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Small and colorful with its wings outstretched in flight. Delicate and beautiful.”
“What?” she asked again as his fingers continued to draw the imaginary hummingbird.
“Let me design a tattoo for you. I’ll do something special. And I promise to do it as fast and painless as possible.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied hesitantly. “I don’t see myself as a tattoo kind of gal.”
He caressed his thumbs over the small of her back once more before removing his hands and pulling the hem of her sweater back down. “Then maybe it’s time to start seeing yourself differently, darling,” he drawled in that deep Southern accent she was beginning to find irresistible.
****
Kendra didn’t show it, but she was secretly pleased with his suggestion of a hummingbird tattoo. How could Flint possibly know that hummingbirds held a special significance to her? Her recently deceased grandmother adored the tiny birds and had told Kendra to watch for her on the wings of a hummingbird after she died. In her memory, Kendra had hung at least fifty hummingbird feeders on her farm the previous summer, spread out among all of the flowering bushes and trees.
Flint settled back on his side of the couch and stretched out his long legs. He tapped the toes of his black leather boots together. “Do you live close to the clinic?”
Kendra smiled. “I own a place not too far from town,” she replied. “I live in an old farm house with a big front porch. The house is tiny, barely big enough for one person. I love it though. In the evenings, I can sit on my porch and watch the sunrise go down over the mountains. It’s relaxing.”
“Do you have a lot of pets? I bet you have about ten. Or twenty.”
“Believe it or not, I don’t have any pets of my own. The hours are so long at the clinic and I never know when I’m going to get called out on emergencies. There’s always a baby or injured animal of some kind that I end up dragging home with me most nights. What about you? Do you live close by?”
“I live about ten miles away. In a big house with Jesse and Sam.” He laughed at her dubious expression. “I know, I know. I hate to admit I’m living with my brothers and about half of the crew on a temporary basis. We have what we like to call an open door policy. Their old ladies have a tendency to throw them out of the house occasionally.”
Kendra made a face. “I’m picturing a big frat house with keg parties and drunk sexy girls in tight shorts. Am I right?”
“Why don’t you come over some time and find out for yourself?” he challenged.
She shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think so. The party scene isn’t for me. I like it quiet and peaceful.”
“Who says I don’t? Something tells me you’re making presumptions about me based on the MC.”
Flint was right. She had been making assumptions about him based on his involvement with the motorcycle gang. She was stereotyping him without giving him the benefit of getting to know him first. It wasn’t like her to be so judgemental. She wasn’t giving him a fair shake and he’d called her out on it. She respected him for that.
“You’re right,” she admitted grudgingly. “I probably have been doing that.” She shrugged, unsure of how to explain it to him. “You’re in a motorcycle gang and even though I don’t know much about them, what I do know isn’t great.”
Flint drew in a deep breath before explaining. “For starters, we’re a motorcycle club, not a gang. A big, big difference there. The MC is a way of life and more like a family to me than a club. They took Jesse and me in after Mom died and gave us a place to feel secure. Like we belonged somewhere. When I look back on those times, there were a million bad places I could’ve ended up if it hadn’t been for the MC. I owe them so much.”
She nodded. “I get that. I really do. But what about the other stuff? The illegal things?” There, she’d said it. The elephant in the room was now sitting right between them. She needed an answer to the one thing that had been bothering her since she walked into the cabin. “How do you explain that?”
A troubled, dark cloud came over his face. Instantly, Kendra regretted her words and wished she could take them back. She’d stepped over the line with him.
“You know I can’t talk about any of that,” he answered regretfully. “All I can tell you is that the people on my crew are good guys.” He touched his chest abo
ve his heart. “Deep down inside. We’re not perfect by any means, and maybe not by other people’s standards. But they’re loyal and they would protect my back. I would do the same for them. That’s all I’m going to say.”
Flint stood and walked over to check the pile of firewood beside the hearth. “We’re running low. I’ll go get some more logs from the woodpile on the side of the house.”
Kendra started to offer to go help him and decided she would be better off not to. Flint had shut down the moment she mentioned the MC’s illegal activities. She felt like kicking herself. She was surprised at how he had really opened up to her about his brothers and his dad, especially since she got the distinct feeling it wasn’t something he shared with just anyone. There was so much more to Flint than she realized or expected. He had trusted her and she’d thrown it back in his face.
After a moment’s hesitation, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Flint’s keys. She placed them on the table so that it would be the first thing he saw when he walked back in.
****
The remainder of the day passed quickly. Flint spent his time checking in with Jesse and Sam while Kendra counseled anxious clients through various animal emergencies. In between calls, they sat on the couch together and talked about anything and everything. Without the distraction of a television or books, there was nothing left to do in the cabin to ease the awkwardness of the silence but to entertain each other.
By the end of the day, the thought occurred to Kendra that she hadn’t spent so much time getting to know another man in a long time. Most of the dates she had been on the past few years had been centered around movies, sporting events, or even dinner in a fancy but very quiet restaurant, none of which were conducive to intimate conversations.
To her surprise, Flint was funny and had a wicked sense of humor that she found irresistibly attractive. He entertained her with stories of the crew and their various misfortunes with the old ladies in their lives. She could listen to him talk for hours with his deep Southern drawl with a touch of Tennessee twang.
The time passed quickly. When nightfall came, Kendra realized they would need to discuss sleeping arrangements. The cabin was tiny, with only a bathroom, a small kitchen, and a living area. From the bare furnishings, it was obvious the owner only used it as a hunting retreat rather than a vacation home.
After being forced to sleep sitting up in the recliner the night before, she wasn’t eager to try it again. Being the alpha male he was, she knew Flint would readily give up the couch for her to sleep on.
She walked into the living room where he was busy stoking the fire for the night. “Flint, I hate to be a party pooper,” she began. “But I’m exhausted and need to get some shut eye before I fall over.”
“I’m sorry for keeping you up all night.” Flint moved toward the couch. “Here, let’s pull the sofa bed out for you,” he said. “I saw some sheets for it while I was prowling around in the closet by the door.”
A sofa bed? Well, that made sense, especially since there wasn’t a separate bedroom. “I didn’t know it made out into a bed,” Kendra said. “You would have been much more comfortable last night if I’d known that.”
He let out a rueful laugh. “Don’t worry, I was comfortable enough with all those pain pills. Or at least I think I was from what I can remember.”
Kendra sucked in her breath. Oh God! Please don’t let him bring up the kiss again, she prayed. Together, they took the cushions off the couch and pulled out the bed frame. After retrieving the sheets from the closet, Kendra made the bed up.
“I’ll sleep in the recliner chair tonight,” Flint said to ease the awkwardness. “You’ve had your turn.”
Kendra was too tired to argue. After changing into a long flannel shirt that hung almost to her knees, she crawled under the blanket.
Flint turned off the lamp and pulled his chair closer to the fire. “What is your family like?” he asked in the dark.
“They’re great,” Kendra replied. “My mom and dad dote on each other. He retired last year from the textile mill where he worked his entire life. My mom is a stay-at-home mother and she spent her life taking care of all of us. I have two older sisters who still try to boss me around. They all live right across the state line in North Carolina.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is. My parents sacrificed a great deal for me to go to veterinarian school. They always encouraged me not to give up even though money was so tight. Many times I almost dropped out. My parents are the best. I wish you could meet them.” The thought slipped out before she could catch herself. Oh crap! Did she really just say that?
“Me too,” Flint replied softly. “Me too, Kendra.”
“My dad took a second mortgage out on their house to loan me the money to buy into the vet practice. Dr. Henson wanted to retire and he preferred someone local to take over his clients. There aren’t a lot of veterinarians willing to work in a small country practice so I got lucky. I went on every vet visit with Dr. Henson for two years before he trusted me enough to turn the business over.”
“I remember Dr. Henson,” Flint said. “He was a good man.”
“Still is. He comes by the clinic every so often to check on me.” Kendra tried and failed to stifle a big yawn.
“You’d better get some sleep. No more questions from me tonight.”
****
Flint leaned back in the leather recliner and watched Kendra as she slept on the sofa bed. The fire had died down, and now there was only a soft glow bouncing off her hair from a few flickering embers. He reached over carefully and tucked back a strand that had fallen over her face. She stirred in her sleep but didn’t wake up. Instead, she mumbled something he couldn’t make out and pulled the blanket tighter around her.
He liked looking at her when she wasn’t on guard and defensive. Kendra was truly gorgeous in a natural way, without a speck of makeup and her hair a crazy mess. He knew she didn’t believe him when he’d told her that she was beautiful. She probably thought he was simply another scumbag trying to sweet talk her panties off.
Which, if he was honest with himself, wasn’t too far from the truth. On both counts.
Kendra must have unconsciously felt him staring at her because she suddenly opened her eyes. “Flint?” she said sleepily. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?” She propped herself up on one elbow and blinked at him.
He smiled in reassurance. “Everything’s okay. I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
She sat up and pulled the blanket up around her neck. “Jesus! It’s freezing in here. Did the furnace go out?”
“We lost power about an hour ago,” he answered. He stood up and threw another log into the fire. “I heard a pine tree snap under the weight of the ice and then the transformer blew. I figured I’d better hurry and build the fire back up before the temperature started dropping in here, but I didn’t want to wake you.”
She frowned at his bare chest. “Where is your shirt? Is your arm hurting?”
“Some,” he admitted grudgingly, stretching his sore muscles. “The shirt was rubbing the bandage so I figured I’d feel more comfortable with it off.”
“I hope you took something for the pain,” she said with concern. “It’s barely been a little over twenty-four hours since you were shot. Trying to be a tough guy by suffering isn’t very smart.”
“You’re right, and I did.” He sat back down in the chair, crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm, and closed his eyes.
Kendra smiled and lay back down after fluffing her pillow. After a moment, she threw the blanket to the side and patted the space beside her. “Flint, I can scoot over. There’s plenty of room for both of us. You look miserable and cold sitting in that chair.”
Flint didn’t hesitate or give her time to change her mind. He gingerly stretched out next to her, careful not to take up too much of her space or accidentally touch her.
After a couple of minutes in silence, Kendra whispered hesitantly, “Flint?”
“No hanky-panky, okay?”
Flint laughed out loud, a deep rumbling sound that shook the sofa bed. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Flint.”
He knew she was smiling in the dark.
Chapter Eight
Kendra woke up some time later to discover Flint’s injured arm wrapped across her breasts, holding her tightly. His bare chest was pressed close against her back while his warm breath stirred the hair on her neck. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do.
Kendra carefully lifted his arm in an attempt to slide out from under him without waking him up. When she shifted, he instinctively tightened the grip on her in his sleep. She sighed and closed her eyes, resigned to her fate. After all, being snuggled up with a hot guy in a freezing cold cabin wasn’t exactly the worst thing in the world, she reasoned. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so warm and safe. She didn’t see any harm in enjoying it while it lasted.
A soft kiss on her shoulder stirred her awake a little while later. She smiled, certain it was an erotic dream until she felt another. Oh Jesus! Her stomach tightened as Flint slid the flannel shirt from her shoulder and continued pressing gentle kisses down her upper arm. She deliberately slowed her breathing and pretended to still be asleep while her mind and heart raced.
Flint’s lips moved up and nuzzled the back of her neck. An uncontrollably delicious shiver slid down her spine. What on earth did he think he was doing? She had explicitly said no hanky-panky. A warm hand slid under the bottom of her shirt and rested on her waist. Kendra suddenly became distinctly aware of the heat and weight of his arousal prodding her hip.
Of their own will, her breasts swelled in aching need beneath the flannel shirt. Could Flint sense how hard and erect her nipples were? Did he know how much they needed to be pinched and sucked? To be rolled between his finger and thumb and tugged on hard until she cried out and begged for more?