Chayton's Tempest

by Aliyah Burke

  date, but she’d staunchly refused. Nevertheless, recently there

  had been a military man whom she’d been seeing off and on.

  Tonight, Dakota had never seen that look on his

  mother’s face. Something had spooked her and scared the crap

  out of her. Anger began to burn inside Dakota. He would stand

  for no one hurting her.

  His hand reached for the door to her room. He wanted

  to console her; but at the last second, he dropped his hand. His

  mama was a proud woman. “I love you, Mama,” he whispered

  to the door before he headed back to his room.

  Three

  Maverick woke the next morning feeling refreshed, as if

  new life had poured into him. Walking down the street to grab

  some breakfast, he thought about the woman at the bar.

  She was someone special. All the lust he had for women,

  the desire to flirt and play around had returned. Unlike Talli

  who did nothing for him, this woman boiled his blood in a

  wonderful way.

  He’d almost lost control when she looked at him. Then

  her eyes had changed, and that had gotten him wondering

  about her even more. One thing was for sure, he knew where

  he was going tonight.

  After eating breakfast, Maverick did more sightseeing. It

  didn’t take long, however, and he went down Wyoming

  Boulevard toward Kirkland Air Force Base. Showing his

  identification and the fact he had on a helmet and a reflective

  vest, he was allowed on. It was regulation to wear them while

  on motorcycles; even on bicycles, one had to be what the

  military considered safe and “visible” or they could refuse to

  let personnel on base.

  He smiled as he rode, his mind drifting back to the

  stunning smile his vixen had on her face as she’d spoken with

  the waitress, Mili. Parking his bike, he took off the vest and

  helmet.

  His phone rang as he swung his leg off the hog.

  “Maverick,” he said.

  “Well, you sound tons better than when I talked to you

  last,” the masculine voice on the other end said.

  “Hey, Hondo.” Maverick began walking to the front

  doors.

  “How are you doing? Where are you?”

  “I’m in New Mexico. At Kirkland Air Force Base about

  to hit their B/X.”

  “New Mexico? Air Force Base? You not thinking of

  bailin’ on us, are you?”

  “Hell no!” he blurted. “I was in Albuquerque driving

  around and ended up here. Just going shopping, seeing what

  these Flaps have at their exchange.”

  A deep sigh of relief filled the line. “What are you doing

  in New Mexico?”

  Pausing outside the exchange doors, Maverick leaned

  against the wall. “I had a vision that led me here. I can’t explain

  it man, but I know that I am in the right place.”

  “Right place for what?’ Hondo questioned. He would

  never doubt Mav’s visions but Maverick knew he was curious.

  “I’m not sure yet. But I felt restless at home; and when I

  began to drive, I was sent here. So I am going to stay here until

  I figure it out.”

  Hondo paused for a brief minute. “Okay. I fully expect

  to see you and your wife-to-be at the end of this month

  downtime.”

  Hondo’s words brought one face to mind. It took a

  moment before he could see anything past her beauty and

  respond, “I like being single, thank you very much.”

  Hondo heard the long pause and chuckled, making

  Maverick silently curse. He, James Lonetree, had never

  hesitated to say that before; normally it was out before the

  statement about his future wife was fully in the air.

  “So did I at one time,” the black man told Maverick.

  “Well, Xaria would change my mind, too, but I don’t

  think you’d share.”

  Silence reigned on the other end for a moment. “It’s

  good to hear you joking around again, Mav. I have to go. Keep

  in touch.”

  “Bye, Hondo, give that wife of yours my best.” Maverick

  shut off his phone and walked inside, immediately cooled by

  the blasting air conditioning. Taking in the size of the place, he

  grabbed a cart and began to shop, ignoring all the appreciative

  looks the women gave him.

  Maverick left the exchange, carrying his bags. He’d

  purchased some things that might come in handy. Stowing

  them in the saddlebags, he tossed on his vest and fastened his

  helmet. He hated riding with one, but military rules stated one

  had to have a brain bucket on along with the reflective vest if

  on a bike.

  Putting his bike back on the road, he drove through the

  base. It never ceased to amaze him how nice an Air Force base

  was. Sure as shittin’ have a hard time finding a Navy base this nice.

  He drove out the gate and up Wyoming Boulevard

  ,

  looking at the mountains to his right. Instead of returning to his

  hotel right away, he journeyed through the city, getting more

  of the layout of the land.

  That night around seven-thirty, Maverick walked back

  through the doors of B’s Quarry. It was not as busy as the

  previous night and he sat in a table towards the back, where it

  was darker than most places.

  It didn’t take long for a waitress to approach. “What can

  I get for you, doll?”

  Maverick smiled up at her. It wasn’t Mili but she was

  still very attractive. “I’ll take a beer; whatever is on tap’s fine.”

  “You got it, handsome.” She winked and then sashayed

  off to the bar.

  Where he sat, Maverick had a clear line of sight to the

  bar. At the moment, that young man was back there and took

  the order from the waitress. A side door opened by the

  women’s restroom and Maverick watched his gorgeous

  bartender walk through it.

  He licked his lips as his obsidian eyes took in her

  appearance. She wore a pair of low-rider jeans that should have

  been outlawed, the way they cupped her lower body. A white

  dress shirt was tied off at her waist. Its sleeves were torn away

  and he could envision the bra that was beneath it.

  Her manner of dress left her midsection bare and he

  eagerly lapped up the view. He noticed the white canvas shoes

  on her feet and no socks. Her hair was completely off her neck

  and face with the exception of the wisps plastered to her skin.

  She was delectable looking and he wanted to get to know her

  better. All of her.

  She turned around at the door and reached in to lift out

  a big case of alcohol. He wanted to go help her, but the young

  man behind the counter beat him to it. The smile she bestowed

  upon that lad made Maverick sick.

  Get a grip, Mav; you can’t be jealous over a woman who

  hasn’t said more than five words to you. Taking a deep breath, he

  tipped the waitress when she left his beer. Holding the cold

  mug in one strong hand, he observed the woman make trip

  after trip, carrying more boxes out of that room.

  Wanting to go help her, Maverick had to force himself to


  remain in his seat. She didn’t look stressed; in fact, she seemed

  quite content with doing physical labor. When she was

  finished, her five-seven frame slid behind the counter just as a

  group of men came in the door. All of them hollered greetings

  to her.

  “Tempest,” he muttered to himself while listening to her

  respond. “Her name is Tempest.”

  It was a good thing Tempest didn’t have a box in her

  hands the first time she’d come up from the cellar for she

  would have dropped it when her dark eyes landed on the tall

  man sitting alone off to the side. He was back.

  So in order to regain some semblance of control, she’d

  brought up the cases one by one as opposed to two at a time

  like she usually did. Tempest knew her son noticed but, bless

  his heart, had the brains to keep his mouth shut.

  The trio of men that had come in through the door after

  she’d finished were part of her Wednesday night regulars. It

  didn’t take long for them to seat themselves around the bar.

  “Evening, gentlemen,” Tempest said with a smile as she

  automatically began preparing their drinks for them.

  “Hey, darling,” the largest of the three, Frank

  Witherspoon, said. “How are you doing?”

  Tempest sent him a blinding smile. She slid his double

  shot of José Cuervo Gold across the shiny teak bar top. “Not

  bad. And yourself, how’s your wife doing?”

  “Ready for you to come over for another dinner.” He

  flopped down a twenty and waited for the change.

  “I’ll wait for the call.” Her hands mixed a Lynchburg

  Lemonade and pushed it across to another customer. “And

  you, Mr. Miles Homer? How are you doing?”

  The pale, freckled-faced man grinned at her. “Very well,

  my dear. Going to ask my woman to marry me this weekend

  when she flies into town.”

  Putting the change in front of her friend, she nodded.

  “Congrats! Let me know how it turns out.”

  “Sweetheart, you will be handling the bachelor party

  and possibly the reception!”

  Tempest arched a brow. “I will, will I? At his answering

  nod, she smiled. Without breaking her momentum she fixed

  Oscar Hewitt a single shot of Black Label with club soda and

  lemon twist.

  “Excuse me!” a man shouted from down the bar after

  she handed Oscar his drink.

  With ease, Tempest moved down the bar and talked to

  the man waving the bill. As the night progressed, the joint

  filled up and music played. Tonight’s selections were more

  country than anything else.

  Maverick left his solitary seat and headed for a barstool.

  He had to be closer to her—no reason, just a need. The young

  man was down at this end of the bar and Maverick just waved

  him away holding up the beer that he had in his hand.

  His eyes strayed back to the beautiful woman who

  worked endlessly and effortlessly behind the bar. She was an

  amazing bartender, filling orders and carrying on

  conversations with those around her. Watching her work was

  like observing a masterpiece. There was no showing off, but

  everything was flawless and without hesitation.

  “Dak,” her voice reached over the crowd, catching the

  younger man’s attention. When he looked over at her, she

  finished with, “Can you bring up some more popcorn, pretzels,

  and nuts, please?”

  “Sure thing,” he hollered back. Sliding the current drink

  he was working on to the customer, he made change and went

  to the side door where Maverick had first seen her come from

  this evening.

  There was movement beside him and Maverick saw a

  woman slip on the stool. She was dark blonde with a very

  curvaceous figure. “Hey,” she said with a wink.

  “Evening,” he returned as he reached for a handful of

  nuts.

  “Haven’t seen you in here before.” Her blue eyes

  traveled blatantly over his body.

  “Passing through town.” Maverick looked up as

  Tempest walked past him to attend to some people at the far

  end of the bar.

  “Where are you from?” she asked as one hand dropped

  to rest on his leg.

  Maverick looked at her hand and moved it back to her

  own leg. “Around.”

  Not easily deterred, she fluttered her lashes at him. “Buy

  me a drink?”

  While it was on the tip of his tongue to flat out refuse,

  the little voice in the back of his head told him that Tempest

  would have to get the drink. “Sure.”

  She giggled. “Wonderful.”

  Maverick pulled out some money and reached out with

  his hand to get her attention. Tempest acknowledged him with

  a wave, indicating she would be right there.

  Shit! Why is he at the bar? Placing a smile on her face,

  Tempest finished up with her patron and moved down the bar

  toward where he sat. Next to him…next to him was Nikki, who

  rarely paid for her own drink.

  “Evening,” Tempest said with a smile.

  “Evening,” Maverick’s deep voice resonated through her

  entire being.

  “What’ll it be? A refill?” she asked, pointing at his beer.

  “No, Tempest,” Nikki interrupted. “He’s buying me a

  drink.”

  “Of course he is.” Her eyes hardened as she looked at

  the devilishly handsome man for a moment before turning her

  attention to the woman beside him. “And you would be

  having…?”

  Nikki licked her lips and leaned closer to Maverick’s

  body, her eyes were full of lust as she looked over her man of

  the moment. “I’ll have,” she paused to glance toward Tempest.

  “I’m gonna have me a Slow Comfortable Screw,” she purred.

  “Of course you are,” Tempest said, shaking her head.

  She circled around and reached for the bottle of sloe gin,

  unaware that motion showed off her tattoo to the man behind

  her.

  Spinning back around, Tempest ignored Maverick and

  placed an ice-filled Collins glass before Nikki and quickly

  mixed her drink. “There you go.” Silently, she took the money

  from Maverick and made change. Never once did she touch his

  hand, opting to leave the money on the counter instead. “Sure

  you don’t need a refill or anything?” she asked him.

  Maverick shook his head. It had been one hell of a shock

  to see his name tattooed across her lower back. The artwork

  was amazing, and it showed that the name, Maverick, was very

  painful to her. He wanted to know the whole story.

  “If you’re sure,” she said with a shrug. She noticed

  Dakota had returned and for a moment, there was a lull at the

  bar. Her son was filling orders for the waitress.

  Before she could move away from him and down the

  bar, he said, “You are an amazing bartender. How long have

  you worked here?”

  Her eyes narrowed, filled with uncontrolled rage. “Why

  are you so interested in my life?”

  Maverick could easily tell she was struggling to remain

 
polite to him. That threw him off. He wooed women, pleased

  them, but they weren’t mad at him. “You are very beautiful.”

  His response was so automatic it made her skin crawl.

  Tempest didn’t even notice Nikki walk away, having gotten

  her first free drink. One full lip lifted in a snarl as she stared

  into his onyx-like eyes. He had a half-grin on his face, like a

  man who knew he was handsome and charming. Like a man

  who had no problem using his charm to get him what he

  wanted.

  Tempest sneered. “I can’t believe you actually think that

  is going to work with me!”

  “Sweetheart,” he drawled. “I don’t know you and have

  no idea what is going to work with you. I would love to get to

  know you, however.”

  For a moment, Tempest stood there rigid with fury. Her

  chest rose and fell with each breath she struggled to inhale. Her

  hands wrung the rag in her hands as she fought valiantly to

  maintain command of her unrestrained emotions.

  Maverick couldn’t understand what her problem with

  him was. She looked at him like he were less than a damn leper

  and now she seemed furious about something. He was just

  having some fun. I thought bartenders were supposed to flirt.

  “You don’t get to know me. I learned all I wanted to

  about you,” she hissed as her hands clutched the edge of the

  teak bar.

  Narrowing his eyes, Maverick drew back and stared at

  her. She knew him? “What are you talking about? I don’t know

  you.” What was going on?

  Neither of them noticed the young man had moved up

  behind them. “No, you chose to forget me.” Tempest stood up

  straight and shot him a glare that froze the air around him.

  Standing, Maverick reached across the bar for her. The

  action prompted two bouncers to materialize beside him, one

  on each side, and caused the young man to step between them.

  “What are you talking about? We’ve never met.”

  Scorn filled her face as she waved off the men. Stepping

  as close as the bar allowed her to, Tempest placed two shaking

  hands down on the shiny surface. “So that’s what you told

  yourself, to alleviate your guilt? Fine, weave whatever bullshit

  story you want. I could care less that you say you don’t know

  me. But I know you, James Chayton Lonetree, AKA Maverick. I

  know you…and I hate you.” She spun around and walked

  through the door behind the bar closing it with a finality that

  snapped him out of his shock.