by Jessie Cooke
“Don’t go,” he said in a breathless whisper.
“I need to get back…” she said.
“To the hospital?” She didn’t answer him, instead moving further away and sitting up on the edge of the bed. She sat there and caught her breath for a second, and he didn’t move to stop her when she finally stood up. She got dressed quickly, feeling his eyes on her body the whole time. When she finished she finally looked at him and said:
“Thanks.”
“Kat…”
“It was good, Paul. But let’s not ruin it with a bunch of words that nobody means, okay? I appreciate what you did for my father…and for me…I have to go now.” Without another word, or that kiss goodbye that could be as dangerous as the afterglow, she slipped out into the hallway and headed for the elevator. She felt guilty, leaving him there with that confused look on his face…but hell, men did it to women all the time. He was probably guilty of it himself. They’d both got what they wanted and now Kat had the rest of the night to finish cooking for the birthday party at the Skulls clubhouse she’d agreed to cater the next day. By the time she got outside into the fresh air and walked across the street to where her car was parked…Paul was already just another memory.
7
Kat was running on no sleep for twenty-six hours by the time she pulled the bashed-up van off the road in front of the Skulls guardhouse. This was the third time she’d been there since they’d been on lockdown, so she knew the drill. She turned off her engine and was out of the van before the guy at the gate, Mercer, stepped out of the little shack. “Hey there, Hurricane, back for the big party today, huh?”
“Yep. You bikers are getting old.”
“Fuck that,” he said, “Tank’s the old one, not me. I doubt I’ll live to be sixty-five.”
“Still young enough to have that Superman complex going on, huh?”
Mercer laughed as he pulled open the back of the van. “Ain’t a complex. I’m looking at your pink chonies right now with my x-ray vision.”
Kat laughed. “If you think I even own a pair of pink chonies, you’re whacked.” Kat had gone to high school with Mercer. Back then he was a baseball player, looking to get picked up by the Yankees someday. Life happened and he knocked some girl up when he was sixteen, quit school, and got a job at a local mini-mart. Kat was gone before he decided to become a biker, but she wasn’t surprised. The Skulls were local legends, to the local policemen’s chagrin, and most little boys on the south side wanted to grow up to be one.
Mercer went through the motions of checking out the van, talking her out of a half-dozen finger sandwiches and a handful of chocolate chip cookies before he let her go. Kat yawned as she drove up in front of the clubhouse. She was excited about this gig because Dax was paying her well to cater it, but she was looking forward to getting it over with so she could take a little nap before she had to open the bar that night. She stepped out of the van and the two armed guys on either side of the door waved at her. One of them stuck his head in the door and a few seconds later, three prospects appeared to help her unload. She handed each one of them a tray of carefully prepared and artistically arranged food, issuing directions as she did. She was reaching in to grab a crockpot full of sweet and sour meatballs when she heard someone say,
“I’ll be damned, if it’s not Hurricane Katrina.” She spun around and was face to face with Kyle Brady. Shit.
“This place is just overrun with Bradys lately, who would have thunk it?”
Kyle smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t like her any more than Angel did. “Don’t get too excited, David’s not here.”
Kat narrowed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “I have work to do here, Kyle. I wish I could say it was nice to see you, but…”
He chuckled. “My sentiments exactly. What are you doing here, Katrina?”
“Not that it’s your business, but I’m catering Tank’s birthday party.”
He laughed. “Catering? You made all that food?” He waved his hand at the containers and pots she had stacked in the back of the van.
“Yes, I made all that food. Had I known you would be here, I would have thrown in some arsenic appetizers.”
“I’ll pass on lunch, just in case. Does my sister know you’re here?”
Kat turned her back on him and pulled out a pan of green beans with bacon to hand to one of the prospects that had come back for more. The kid took it and she glanced over her shoulder at Kyle again. “You’re still here?”
“You didn’t answer my question. Does Angel know you’re here?”
“I’m assuming, since her old man is my business partner, that she does…but you’ll have to confirm that with her.”
“Your business partner? Has Dax lost his mind, or has he not been in that shack your family still calls a bar lately?”
Her sigh was heavier and louder as she turned all the way around to face Kyle. “What the fuck do you hope to get out of harassing me, Kyle? I’m working here. If you’re dying to arrest someone, maybe you can go inside and catch one of the ex-felons with a gun or something.”
“Not harassing,” he said, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Just curious. And I’m not a cop anymore.”
“I guess that explains you hanging out at an MC. Ex-felon yourself now? I read about all the trouble Angel had with her ex a couple years back…”
“I’m an investigator for a law firm and Angel is a lawyer. Neither of us has given up on the law, Katrina…so don’t be surprised if you feel someone watching you.”
“Fuck you, Kyle.” Kat grabbed a container of cookies and a cake carrier out of the van and without looking back at Kyle, she marched into the club. She had to stop once she was inside and take a deep breath. Kyle and Angel Brady brought out the worst in her. Sometimes she had a hard time believing that David was really their brother. Maybe their mother had a Sancho…that would explain a lot.
“Hey, Kat, everything looks great.” Gunner was coming out of the kitchen with a dishtowel in his hands. “How is Dillon? I heard he had a little accident last night.”
Kat had had Toolie take a look at the van before she loaded it up that morning. She should have known the old biker mechanic would come back to the clubhouse and spread the gossip. “He’s fine. I called the hospital this morning. They’re going to let him out this afternoon, so as soon as I’m finished here I’ll run and pick him up.”
“That’s good,” Gunner said, looking sincere. “I like Dillon. You need some more help getting things out of the van?”
“I would love that, thank you.” Gunner smiled at her again and as she turned to make her way into the kitchen she almost ran right into another woman. “Shit. Sorry. I guess I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Could be because you were watching my old man’s ass.”
“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” It was barely eleven a.m., and Kat already had enough of people. “I don’t even know who you are, much less who your old man is.”
“Name’s Tamara Covey, soon to be Davis. Gunner Davis is my old man.” The woman tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips. Kat had almost forgotten how territorial these bitches at the club got over their men. She liked Gunner, but his brother Dax was much more her type.
“Look, I’m here to cater a party. Gunner offered to help me. I wasn’t looking at his ass. I don’t want any trouble today, okay?”
“Katrina Brown?”
“Yes.” Kat figured she’d probably gotten an earful about her from Angel. She wasn’t going to defend herself. If the other woman wanted to buy into catty gossip, that was her problem. Kat just wanted to do her job and get paid so she had time to pick Dillon up and take a nap before the bar opened that evening.
Tammy’s green eyes were almost boring into Kat’s as she stood with her hands on her slim hips. She seemed to be trying to analyze the threat, or if there even was one. At last, she stepped aside and said, “I’ll go help Gunner grab the
rest of the food.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure. Dax told you that Tank is going to be pissed off that he let someone else in his kitchen, right?” Dax had not told her that, but Kat knew Tank and he was in the minority of people who liked her, so she could handle it.
“It’ll be the icing on this wonderful cake of a day I’m having,” she said, as she turned her back again and continued toward the kitchen. Tammy laughed. It was going to be a long, fucking day.
The next hour passed without trouble, thankfully. Kat spent the time in the kitchen, heating things up and arranging food on platters. A few of the club girls, some she knew and some she didn’t, came in to help her and everything was ready to go, right on time. Tables had been set up out behind the club and someone had decorated them and hung a “Happy Birthday” banner for the old biker. Kat and the girls carried the trays out and arranged them on the food table, and then Kat set up the special cake she’d made for the old man. Tank had to give up riding years before, thanks to the arthritis in his hands. He loved to cook, however, and had found his niche in the club by doing that. Kat had decorated the cake with a metal toy Harley Davidson as well as miniature rolling pins, spatulas, and a tiny little barbecue pit. She was proud of herself when she finished it and now as she arranged it on the table she got another rush of self-accomplishment.
“That’s nice, Kat.” Dax had walked up to the edge of the table. Kat smiled at him and willed her body to calm down. Just his presence made her hormones go crazy.
“Thanks. I was proud of it.”
“Everyone needs something to be proud of.” Angel walked up behind her old man and put her hand possessively on his arm. It was the first time in almost five years that Kat had been face to face with her. She was sorry to see the other woman was still as drop-dead gorgeous as she had been back then.
“Hello, Angel, long time no see.”
“Not long enough,” Angel said with a tight smile. Kat saw Dax look down at her, but she couldn’t see the look on his face. Angel’s looked annoyed and almost identical to how Kyle’s had looked just a while ago. Kat held her tongue and Dax said:
“Come on, baby. Jimmie will be bringing Tank back soon. Let’s go make sure everyone is ready.”
Angel gave Kat one last dirty look before slipping her hand in Dax’s and letting him lead her away. Still not quite noon and Kat needed a fucking drink. She walked around putting the final touches on things, and when Tank arrived and the party started, she slipped out. She’d go take care of her business and come back later in time for cleanup.
As Kat drove away from the clubhouse, the past flooded her brain once more, taking her to another place she didn’t want to be. She was barely twenty years old and dating a man that she thought she was going to marry someday. He’d be the first and last man to break her heart. After him, she refused to let her emotions get involved. Her idea of a relationship was telling the guy her real name. The funny thing was, men did it all the time, but she was the one they called a whore.
Kat met David Brady at a party when she was eighteen. He thought she was cool with all her tattoos and her Harley. He came from a huge, straight-laced Catholic family and part of his attraction to her, she was sure, was that they’d take one look at her and not approve. As she pulled onto the freeway, her mind relived their first time together…it was her first time and, silly girl that she was, she thought David was going to be her first and last.
Kat and David had been dating for two months. She still hadn’t met his family even though he’d wanted to take her home more than once. She had heard so much about the Bradys and how they were all cops and perfect Catholics that attended church together every Sunday. She’d seen Kyle a few times, and the two older ones that lived most of the year on their fishing boat. They came into Brownie’s, and although she wasn’t old enough then to serve beer, she spent a lot of time in the back, helping Dillon with things like inventory and stocking. They were all so attractive and although the fishermen often looked disheveled and unkempt, Kyle Brady was like David, always immaculately groomed. Kat knew he had a sister that they all called “Angel” and doted on, but she hadn’t met her either at that point. She saw a picture David had of her in his wallet—and just based on a photograph, Kat was intimidated.
David never acted like he thought he was better than her, although she thought he was. He took her out to dinner and to the movies and treated her like she was a princess, both in public and behind closed doors. She had told him early on that she was a virgin and “saving herself” and he had completely respected that. They engaged in a lot of kissing and heavy petting, but it always stopped above the waist. That was until one weekend when Dillon had to close down the bar and go to New Orleans to “handle some business.” Kat stayed behind because she’d recently started a new job at an auto parts store in town. She had to work Saturday afternoon, but all day she’d thought about David and the fact that she had the little apartment she and Dillon lived in all to herself. Just before she got off work that day she’d called him and asked if he wanted to come over for dinner. David accepted right away, not aware that Dillon was out of town.
Kat stole a bottle of wine from the bar, one of the few Dillon kept around just in case a “lady” showed up. She cooked a brisket from a recipe she’d found in one of her mother’s old books and made baked potatoes and asparagus to go with it. When David got there, he was more than a little surprised. “Where’s your dad?” he asked when he saw the table was only set for two.
“New Orleans,” she said. Kat and David had been on about eight dates by that time and the only time they were alone was in his car, coming and going. She wasn’t sure that day if the look on David’s face was surprised and happy, or surprised and…worried. She urged him to sit down and poured him a glass of wine.
“Wine too, wow.” He smiled up at her and her stomach did a somersault. She was so in love with him already and she wanted to be with him in every way…and prove that. She poured wine in her own glass…a Solo cup, actually, but she’d had to improvise. She took her seat and picked up the lighter on the table to light the two candles that she’d bought at the dollar store on her way home from work. She picked up the serving dish and put a slice of the brisket on David’s plate, adding the potato and asparagus. “It smells great. Did you cook all of this?”
“I did,” she said, proudly. “I had to either learn how to cook or live off fast food, since Dillon wasn’t going to.”
“Does your dad know I’m here…I mean, without him here too?”
“No. But he doesn’t need to know. I’m eighteen, David. Just because I still live with him, doesn’t mean he still gets to control me.”
He smiled and put a piece of the meat in his mouth. She could see the questions in his eyes, but he was apparently going to save them for later. They talked instead about her upcoming gymnastics meet in Connecticut and his interview for a lab technician at the police department. David’s father was a detective and his brother a beat cop. His sister was already in the police academy and although he seemed nervous about the interview, Kat was sure he had the job in the bag.
After dinner, they cleaned the kitchen together and Kat served the chocolate cake she’d made for the occasion. After that was finished, they were both stuffed and they took the rest of their wine into the small living room and sat down on the couch. David reached for the remote control, but Kat was ready to make her move…and afraid she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t. She took it out of his hand as he cocked an eyebrow at her and then she climbed up in his lap, facing him. Before saying a word, she leaned down and kissed him softly on his lips. David brought his hands up while they kissed and rested them on her back, underneath her shirt, where she liked them. She’d had more than one dream, or fantasy, of those hands roaming every inch of her body. He moved them up and down her back as the kiss grew more intense and passionate. She could feel his thumbs skim the sides of her breasts and she could feel her panties getting wet underneat
h her jeans.
Kat was the one to break the kiss so that they could both come up for air. She didn’t know how to tell him that she was ready to have sex, so she finally just stuttered out, “I’m…ready.”
David was an outgoing guy, popular and well-liked. He always knew just what to say and when to say it. Kat had been surprised by that when she first found out he was a lab tech. He wasn’t your average, geeky lab rat. But if anyone had been listening that night, they would have never known that.
“You’re…ready? Ready for…? I mean, you want to…?”
His stuttering was actually making Kat bolder.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m ready. I want to have sex with you, David. I want to spend the night with you.”
“Are you sure?” He shifted underneath her but she could feel the erection already growing in his pants. Kat had read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies, trying to prepare herself for what was about to happen. She was well-versed on the anatomy and mechanics of it all…she just hoped she didn’t screw it up somehow.
She put her hands on either side of his face and said, “I’m ready. I want my first time to be with you. Make love to me, David.”
Kat used to say that to him a lot. The last time she said it to David was the last time she said it to anyone. Now, she didn’t “make love,” she fucked.
Kat could see the emotions in his eyes and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. She could feel that he wanted her, but he was such a good guy that he was second-guessing her willingness. Once again he said, “You’re sure, Kat? Positive?”
She smiled and leaned into his mouth. With her lips pressed into his she said, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
8