by Jenny Siegel
“Storm.” She holds out her arms. Not her, as well. “We’ve missed you. Hank didn’t say you were coming.”
“No…I-”
“Typical Hank doesn’t tell us anything.”
“It’s just for a short while until-” But I don’t get to finish when Uncle Pat hugs me.
“Sit down, kick back, and we can catch up soon. What do you want to drink?”
“Diet Coke.”
“Now where’s my pad?” Aunt Lynda pats down her pockets.
“Over there, beside those girls who look way too young to be drinking.” I nod my head discreetly in their direction. Aunt Lynda’s eyes narrow at them.
“Hmm, they do. I’ll check their ID and none of this fake stuff.”
“Of course, not.” I bite my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Sit down; I’ll be right over.” She rushes off to retrieve her pad and start ID’ing the underaged girls, leaving me to take a seat beside Beth, Aaron, and another guy I don’t know.
“What have you done?” Beth asks looking over her shoulder as Aunt Lynda scrutinizes each girl’s ID, decides it is fake, which it probably is, and ushers them out. But not before giving Max a smack upside his head.
I bend my head to hide my amusement, but my shoulders shake with silent laughter.
“Already causing trouble and you’ve only been back a few hours.” Aaron smirks, and I can only nod as tears of laughter glisten in my eyes.
Once I calm down and finish my soda, I head to the jukebox. I flick through to see if there is anything new, but there’s not, so I work back through the choices. My skin starts to tingle, and when I turn to see who is behind me, I meet a pair of dark, almost black eyes, framed by impossibly dark lashes and brows that dip into a hard v.
“Max.” I nod. “What happened to your friends? Was it past their bedtime?” I bite my lip and try to keep a straight face as a fresh wave of laughter threatens to overwhelm me.
“Ha. Ha,” he says without a trace of humor in his voice. “Was that you?”
“Not at all.” I try for an innocent, butter-wouldn’t-melt look, but I can’t pull it off and the way the corners of my mouth twitch with amusement is a dead giveaway.
“Where’d you learn to ride like that?” He tilts his head.
“Around.” I keep it vague, not about to reveal that I went to track days and illegal races for a while.
“Impressive.” He arches his eyebrow. “How long you home for?”
“Not sure, at least until my dad is better.”
The jukebox is in the corner, near the pool table, but no one is playing and we’re on our own. Well, as much as you can be in a busy bar. Max moves toward me, backing me further into the corner.
“Why’d you leave, Storm?” He presses closer, and I flatten myself against the jukebox, but there is no escape. I should know by now that there is no escaping Max; he is everywhere. He takes another step closer.
“You know why.” I hate the way my voice quivers.
His hands hang at his side, and then they’re on me, skimming up the outside of my black skinny jeans and around to grip my ass. Just like I’ve seen Aaron do to Beth, he jerks my bottom half to him so my pelvis brushes against his dick, which is hardening in his jeans as we speak.
“Things were just getting interesting.” His softly spoken words set free the butterflies in my stomach, and they soar higher and higher. The eye contact is too intense, and his dark eyes bore into my soul. I dip my head before he can see everything I don’t want him to.
“I couldn’t, Max.” I shake my head, hoping it will strengthen my argument, but he carries on undeterred.
“Do you still remember?” His finger tilts my chin, guiding it upwards so I have no choice but to look at him.
My eyes lock with his. “What?” And that’s when I start to fall. Down and down, my stomach feels as if it’s in a freefall, and the feeling grows deep inside me.
“Do you still remember how it felt to have me inside you?”
“Max.” My shock and outrage are less effective when it comes out as a breathy gasp. In fact, it sounds more like I’m calling out his name as he makes me come. And I certainly remember how that feels.
“I remember.” His voice is equally breathy, and I get where he is going with this. But he carries on. “I remember every single detail of that night. The way you felt, the way you tasted.” I draw in a sharp breath, my eyes widening, and he chuckles. The bastard actually chuckles at me. He finds it funny to get me all turned on and, let's be blunt, horny. And I didn’t even bring my trusty pink B.O.B. with me.
“I remember how you sounded when I made you come, whispering my name over and over again like it was a prayer.”
Mesmerized by the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands on my ass, my eyelids close and his lips trail up my jawline to my earlobe. My head drops back as his tongue starts a lazy trail down my neck. When my head connects with the jukebox, it knocks some sense into me, and I jerk upright.
Squeezing a hand between our bodies, I push against a wall of solid muscle. “Stop.” My voice sounds stronger than I feel. Max pulls back to look at me, puzzled. “We’re not doing this,” I start and swallow thickly. It’s too hot in here, and my lady parts need fanning. A drink would help, preferably a stiff… no, strong one… noooo, anything with alcohol in it, but I’ve got the bike so a Coke will have to do. Then perhaps a cold shower.
“You’re right; we can’t do this here.” He takes my hand, ready to lead me god knows where and have his wicked way with me.
“No.” I don’t budge. “We’re not doing this ever.” I meet his glare dead on and something flickers in the depths of his; what it is god only knows.
He leans closer. “Oh, we’re doing this Storm. We have unfinished business. You can deny it, but you want this as much as I do.” Then I see the spark of a challenge. So, he thinks I want this. Well, dream on, buddy. Even though I do, it ain’t going to happen.
“See you around.” He drops my hand but before I can stop him, he brushes his lips over my forehead and walks away.
I watch his retreating back weave through the tables and then the door slams behind him, snapping me out of my stupor. It isn’t until I’m back in my seat that I realize I still haven’t picked a song.
“What was all that about?” Beth leans closer and Aaron does the same, as if I’m about to impart some great secret.
“Nothing. He was just pissed because I beat him.” I wave my hand and look over their heads at something really interesting on the other side of the room.
“Bullshit. We could tell something was going on.” Beth’s voice drops.
“The whole bar could tell something was going on,” Aaron whispers. I lean back and look at the two of them.
“Why are you whispering?” I whisper, and they look at each other then back at me.
“So, what is going on with you and Max?” Beth persists, and I heave a sigh of exasperation.
“Nothing.”
“But something has. Something you’re not telling us?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Nothing is going on with us, there never has and there never will. I know better than to get sucked in by the likes of Max Morgan.” I push up from the table, and their eyes follow. “Now, I’m going home. I need to see my dad in the morning, and I’ll come to the garage.”
Aaron casts Beth a quick sidelong look. “Yeah, about that…”
“Do you mind opening up? It’s fine if you’re a little late, but I’ll come as soon as I’ve been to the hospital.” I lean down and hug Beth and then place a kiss on the top of Aaron’s head. “Thanks. Well done tonight, Aaron. Love you guys.” I pick up my jacket and wave to Aunt Lynda and Uncle Pat as I push the door open.
The temperature has dropped slightly and I zip up my jacket, pull on my helmet, and swing my leg over my Harley. I take my time driving home, making slight detours to cover as much of the town as I can. Eventually, I pull into my dad’s drive and kill the engine.
The house is in darkness, and when I open the front door, a familiar smell greets me. I can’t even say what it is, but it’s just the smell of my dad. I still can’t believe he’s been this stupid as to race at some reunion night. Who has ever heard of that? I bet it’s something his crazy buddies and him have thought of. Then to go and crash, ending up in the hospital with a collapsed lung and broken bones.
Silently, I move through the house, locking the front door and checking the back door. Even though the town is safe, it’s more force of habit. My heels sound loud on the wooden stairs as I drag my weary bones up to bed. When I reach my old room, I don’t even turn on the lights. I just fall face first onto my bed; the same bed I’ve had since I was a teenager. My dad refused to buy me a double just because Beth was getting a double. I think it was the mention of Beth getting one that lost me the argument. He knew about her and Aaron, and his mind was probably connecting the dots and thinking it would be me next.
If my skinny jeans weren’t so uncomfortable to sleep in, I probably wouldn’t bother getting undressed, but I wrestle out of them and slide under the covers.
Chapter Five
Of course, because I didn’t close the curtains, the early morning sun hits me square in the eyes when I roll over. With a groan, I throw an arm over my eyes. I fumble with my watch and peer through the crack in my eyelids. I expect it to be stupid o’clock, but I’m shocked to read 8am.
Shit. I have to be up and at ‘em. The hospital first and then the garage. Although I’m sure Aaron has everything under control, there is no doubt in my mind that the paperwork will be piling up and no one will have been paid this week. I pull out another pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse; better to at least look respectable going into the hospital. I slide my feet back into my boots and pull on my leather jacket.
My hair is hidden beneath my helmet, but I take an elastic band just in case. All set, I lock up and head out. I throw my leg over my bike and pull out of the drive. I ride at a leisurely pace and wish I could take my helmet off and feel the wind in my hair. I may like risks, but I’m not stupid.
• • •
When I reach my dad’s room I stand at the door unobserved, watching him for a minute. He’s concentrating on whatever crap is on the TV, remote in hand, ready to change it as soon as he gets bored or the commercials come on. Fine lines etch his face, and although I can’t see them from here, I know they’re there. As he shifts in the bed, his face crumples with the pain, and that’s when he catches me watching. His body sags against the pillow and his lips curve into a tired smile.
“Leigh.” He reaches out with his free hand but winces as pain hits. I rush over, taking his hand so he doesn’t have to strain himself.
“Hey, Dad.” I lean down and kiss his forehead. “How are you this morning?”
“Okay. A little sore. I think the pills are wearing off.” He scrunches up his eyes tightly. I move to the bottom of the bed and pick up his chart, quickly turning the pages and scanning the notes the doctors have made. I run a finger down the times of his medicine.
“You’re due for another dose. I’ll go find a nurse.” He gives me a weak smile as I leave the room in search of anyone who can help.
By the time I come back with Nurse McCartney, my dad is as white as a sheet and his breathing is shallow. It hurts to breathe because of his broken ribs.
“Now, Mr. Storm.” Nurse McCartney bustles over and fixes his pillows, ignoring the way my dad winces at being jostled about. “Your daughter tells me that you’re in some pain.”
“Yes,” he mumbles and looks like he’s about to barf while she takes her time checking his chart.
“Right. Here, take these.” She hands him three pills in a little cup. “Drink this,” she orders, pouring him a cup of water and handing it to him. He knocks back the tablets and sinks back into the pillows, his eyelids fluttering shut. Nurse McCartney pads from the room, leaving us alone.
“I’ll come back later and see you. I’m going to the garage now. Okay?” I don’t know if he hears me, but he nods and closes his eyes. It is my cue to leave.
I pass Nurse McCartney on the way out. “Call me if there’s anything.” She gives me a warm smile.
“Don’t worry, honey. He’s in good hands,” she assures me. I nod and make my way down the corridor to the elevator, still not entirely happy at having to leave him, but there’s not much I can do here.
• • •
When I pull up outside the garage, the metal shutters are up and all the lights are on. The engine on the Harley dies and music filters out, Pink singing “The Truth About Love.” There are a couple of cars up on the ramps and a Volkswagen Golf GTi in the middle of the garage with its hood up. Blue overall clad legs stick out from under it, black boots tap in time with the music, and soft humming is coming from under the car. I stand with my hands on my hips and straddle either side of the black boots before kicking one to get his attention.
The humming stops, and I watch as Aaron slowly slides out from under the car and between my legs. Only it isn't Aaron. It's Max, and he’s grinning up at me looking like the cat that got the cream. His dark hair is tousled and sticking up in places where he ran his fingers through it, and dirt streaks his forehead. He doesn't look surprised to see me. Wish I could say the same.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, outraged, because he obviously works here but nobody thought to tell me.
“Nice to see you, too.” He smirks and sits up.
“No, seriously, where is Aaron?”
“Still in bed with Beth, no doubt, and I work here.” He is so infuriatingly calm.
“Since when?”
“Since Hank hired me.” He pushes up to stand while my eyes bug out and I continue to stare at him like he has two heads.
“I gather no one told you?”
“Nuh-uh, they forgot to tell me that vital piece of information.”
“Will it be a problem?” He steps closer and picks up the rag at the side of me and wipes his hands.
“Why would it be a problem?”
He tosses the rag onto the engine of the Golf he is working on. “Seeing as we've slept with each other and you're crazy for me.”
My hands fist on my hips indignantly. “I am not crazy for you.”
He holds his hands up in mock protest. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” And then he winks at me with the cocky smile on his face that makes me want to knock it off with a monkey wrench.
“As we're going to be working with each other, I'm going to need you to keep your hands to yourself.” Again with the smirk.
“I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole. You’re such a dick.”
He steps closer and his hand appears out of nowhere, wrapping around my waist to pull me into his body. I raise my hands in an effort to stop our bodies from colliding, and they make contact with the solid warm muscle. Tingles spread from my fingertips, down my arms, and work their way through every cell in my body.
“It's happened before.” His eyes flash with annoyance, making him appear even more dangerous, and dammit if my body doesn't respond, growing warm in the most inappropriate places, which is namely between my legs. His lips brush against my ear as he bends to whisper.
“It's only a matter of time.” It sounds more like a promise than a statement of fact, and my nipples draw tight at the husky quality of his voice. My breath hitches and my hands on his chest rise and fall sharply as his breath quickens.
Before I can question it further or indeed formulate a response, witty or otherwise, I hear footsteps and Aaron call out.
“Morning…” His voice trails off, and we jump apart. Tucking hair behind my ear, I turn away from Max and nod at Aaron.
“Thanks for the heads-up.” And I march to the office but don't miss the questioning look Aaron throws Max and his shake of the head, as if answering with, ‘don't ask.’
• • •
Between running back and forth to the hospital with a chan
ge of clothes, pandering to my dad’s every need, and catching up with my aunt and uncle, I’m hardly in the garage. Part of me is avoiding Max and I’m still a bit pissed that nobody thought to tell me that he works there. When I asked my dad about it, his answer was a shrug, and he justified it by saying that he didn’t think it would be a problem. When I visit him on Friday evening, he has more color in his cheeks and isn’t wincing in pain quite so much. Then he tells me that I’m not needed for visiting duties this weekend.
“You don’t need to come around as much over the weekend. Go and have some fun with Beth and Aaron.”
“Really? Beth wants to talk about the wedding.” I groan inwardly, thinking I had a perfect excuse to get out of it.
“Yes, go and mix with people your own age. Plus Fred and your Uncle Pat said they would pop in a few times.”
“If you’re sure? But if you need anything, just phone.”
“Of course.” I lean over and give him a quick hug before leaving him to switch on the TV and immerse himself in some documentary.
Well, it looks like I’ve got a free weekend. Now I just have to decide what to do with myself. I pull out my phone and select Beth’s number from my favorites.
“Whatcha doin’?” I drawl down the line, and she squeals in response.
“Yay, you’re just in time. Come pick me up and we’ll get some dinner and then head to the quarter mile. You up for that?” With a smile that she can’t see on my face, I shake my head slightly at how excited she gets. No doubt she is in the middle of putting on her make-up, choosing an outfit, and fixing her hair.
“See you soon.” I hang up and debate whether to go home and get changed or go as I am. In the end, I pop home and change my top to a hot pink strappy number, which should meet with Beth’s approval.
Ten minutes later, I pull up outside Beth’s house and gun my engine, waiting until she appears at the front door. She takes one look at my bike and shakes her head.