His mouth practically contorted trying not to smile, but eventually he surrendered to it, which made her laugh. And appreciate the appearance of the gorgeous boyish smile that took years away from his face and made her heart alternate between fluttering and trying to stop.
“That was a One. Time. Thing.”
“Uh-huh,” she teased. “They say that, once performers get a taste of the attention, they can’t quit it. It’s like an addiction.”
He snorted and brought the Harley roaring to life. “Hold on,” he said.
Sitting outside on the deck at Chuy’s, they ate nachos, though Clover scraped the jalapenos off hers through looks of incredulity and disdain from her companion. Then she stuffed herself with chicken flautas and stole one of Raze’s shrimp tacos.
Raze had never had anyone take food from his plate before. He thought he ought to resent it, or think it was rude or not ladylike, but he didn’t think those things. Goddamn if he didn’t kind of like it.
“I’m so full I can barely move,” she said as she swung her leg over the bike again.
“You don’t need to move. Just hold on tight. I’ll do the moving.”
That was not a problem. She liked leaning against his back and the pleasure of pressing her arms around his tight abs counterbalanced the fright of the ride.
Back at Raze’s house, she said, “You want to come in for a beer?”
He didn’t laugh outwardly but did think being invited inside his own house to drink one of his own beers was funny. He unlocked the door and held it open for her. “Go watch the rest of your show. I got an errand.”
“Okay.”
It didn’t take long for Raze to learn that Henry was out of work and shacked up with a girlfriend who worked the drive-through at the Dairy Queen. They lived in a two-story apartment that had seen much better days. The best thing that could be said about it was that it was located on the edge of the Walmart parking lot.
Raze made a fist and banged on the door with the side of his hand.
“Who is it?” a voice said from inside.
“Open up, Henry. Need to talk for a second.”
When Henry cracked the door open, Raze pushed his way in.
“What the fu…?”
“Who is this, Hen?” Dairy Queen interrupted, raising her voice to be heard above the noise of the soap opera she was watching.
“I don’t have business with you,” Raze told her. “So stay out of this.”
The girl closed her mouth.
Raze turned back to Henry. “You sold a woman a car couple of days ago.”
“Yeah? So?”
“It won’t start for her. I’m gonna be needin’ that money back.”
Henry’s eyes widened. “There was nothin’ wrong with that car. It was a good sale. Fair to both of us.”
“So you say. But the fact is that it won’t start for her. Got the best mechanic I know to go over it.”
“What is she to you?”
“That’s none of your business, Henry. It’s not an answer either. Just get me the money and I’ll give you the address where you can pick up the car.”
“I cain’t give that money, Raze. It’s spent.”
“On what?”
“Got Millie a ring.”
Raze looked at Millie, who proudly held up an engagement ring with a diamond so tiny that location would require a magnifying glass.
“Congratulations,” Raze said drily. “You’re gonna need to take it back and get a refund so you can repay the lady you gypped.”
“I cain’t do that, Raze. We got the ring over at All Star Pawn. And you know they don’t give money back.”
Raze stared at Henry for a few seconds. The kid was right. All Star Pawn was a black hole. Cash that went in didn’t come out again.
Without another word he walked out and left the door standing open just because it was a menacing shit move and he was in a bad mood. He straddled his bike and pulled the phone out.
“’Lo, brother,” Brash said when he answered.
“Brash, I’m lookin’ for a favor. Actually two.”
“Name it.”
“That car I left at the club.”
“Yeah?”
“Need you to sell it for me. Don’t care if it’s for parts. I also need to buy somethin’ to replace it. Somethin’ clean. Dependable.”
Brash didn’t try to hide the smile in his voice. “Suitable for a woman.”
“Yeah,” Raze said slowly.
“How much you lookin’ to pay?”
“I don’t know. Three maybe. No more.”
“Just so happens, the club owns part of a used car establishment.”
“I am not surprised. Where is it?”
“South Austin. Ben White.”
“They take credit cards?”
Brash snorted. “Raze. If an outfit does not take credit cards, they are out of business.”
“Okay. Sittin’ on my bike under a tree. Waitin’ right here.”
“Nah. Go on and head on over there. I’ll meet you. We’ll find somethin’ that works. It’s just inside the loop. Forty-seven hundred.”
“See ya there.”
Brash was only ten minutes away from the car lot. He wrapped up his appointment, headed over, and, by the time Raze pulled in, Brash had come to an understanding with the owner.
Raze backed his bike into a spot by the office door and walked over to where Brash was waiting by a cherry-looking-red 2006 Jeep Liberty Sport. Cute as cute could be. It also happened to be the same color as a set of lacy lingerie he couldn’t seem to forget about.
“What d’ya think?” Brash smiled.
“I think that’s a long way from the three thousand we talked about.”
“I happen to know that you could afford to buy a Rolls if you wanted one.”
“That’s not the point. The point is that she needs to think I got her a replacement for the seven hundred twenty-five dollars she paid for that piece of shit.”
“Oh.” Brash nodded, not even trying to contain his delight that Raze was car shopping for a woman. “Well it’s a good thing this car fits the bill. And it can be yours today, right now, for the low, low price of two thousand nine hundred ninety-nine dollars. Tax, title, license included.”
Raze narrowed his eyes. “That’s impossible.”
Brash shook his head. “Nothin’s impossible when you know the right people. So happens the owner got a deal on this vehicle and, as part owner, we’re waiving the profit.”
Raze’s lips parted when he started to let himself imagine taking that car back to stray girl. He began looking the car over in earnest. If there was a scratch or dent, he didn’t see it. It was fully loaded with a rear mount spare and ivory leather that had been maintained. Soft, supple, without a tear.
Raze popped the hood. “D’you drive it?”
“No. Figured you’d want to. It has a hundred and twenty-seven thousand miles on it, but it’s in good shape and you got the chops to keep it runnin’ for years.”
Raze was apparently satisfied with what he saw under the hood. Brash held up his hand and a guy in a short-sleeved white button-down threw him the keys, which he handed to Raze.
The two of them took the car for a spin on the loop and gave it the sort of test drive that would give a car dealer apoplexy. But they were satisfied the Jeep would meet stray girl’s needs.
When they pulled back in, Raze turned off the car and looked at Brash. “It’s perfect. Guess I owe you one. Again.”
“You owe me nothin’.” Then he chuckled. “But before we sell that Toyota, seems like we ought to call in a gypsy or a medium, find out what’s the deal.”
Raze smiled, which shocked Brash down to his biker boots. “You should,” he agreed. “Though I gotta say, whatever it was, I might be just as glad that car refused to take her away.”
Brash grinned as he got out. “Finish up the paper, Charlie,” he called to the guy in the white shirt.
“Charge me extra for deli
very. I need somebody to drive it over to my place.”
“I’ll drive. Charlie’s got a bobtail and a ramp. We’ll put your bike in the truck. I’ll drive the truck, haul your bike, and bring it back.”
“One condition. Bring the whole club for Bike Night. Beer and wings on the roadhouse. Wives, too.”
Brash grinned. “On behalf of the club, that is an offer I cannot refuse. Thursday night. We will be there. Who’s playin’? Not that it matters.”
“Thunder.”
“Excellent.”
“Whose name do you want me to put on the paperwork?” Charlie asked.
Raze answered. “Just sign it over and leave the new owner blank.”
Clover was too engrossed in another Lifetime movie to hear the truck pull up outside. She thought she might have heard the clank of metal, but it didn’t sound threatening so she stayed where she was.
It took both men to get Raze’s seven-hundred-pound Harley down the ramp and out of the truck. He parked it in the garage, pulled the door down, and walked over to shake Brash’s hand.
“Aw. You’re not gonna let me see her reaction?” Raze looked like a deer in headlights. “Just kiddin’. The moment is all yours. See you Thursday.”
“Thanks again.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Speaking of that. Don’t…” he glanced toward the house, “tell her anything about…”
Brash looked offended. “I won’t! Christ, Raze. I didn’t just find the boys’ club yesterday.”
Raze nodded and offered a tiny smile, which was all the thanks Brash needed.
CHAPTER Nine CONFESSIONAL
“You here?” Raze yelled from the kitchen door. Of course he knew she was there. First, he could hear the TV. Second, where else would she be? But he wanted to warn her, as a courtesy, and not alarm her by walking in unexpectedly.
“Yeah,” she hollered.
He stepped into the living room and glanced at the TV. “You at a stoppin’ point? Got somethin’ I want to show you.”
“What?” She brightened and looked as excited as a child at the mention of ice cream.
He gave her the tiniest lopsided grin. “Just come.”
“Okay.” She used the remote to turn off the TV, slid on her Vans, and shuffled over to where he stood. “Am I going to like it?”
“Hope so.”
He’d parked the car sideways on the gravel drive at the end of the walkway that led to the carport and garage. He opened the kitchen door and stepped back so that she could go through first.
When she saw the car, she said, “Is somebody here?”
“No. It’s yours.”
She looked confused. “What’s mine?”
“The car, silly.”
She gaped, mouth moving, but no sound coming out. “That’s not my car. That car is gorgeous. And new. And… perfect.”
He was nodding. “Yeah. It is all that. It’s also yours.”
She looked up at Raze with liquid eyes. “How?”
“Went over to Henry’s and asked for your money back. Then I called in a favor. Got you a car worth havin’. It’s in good shape. It’ll last a long time.”
Overwhelmed didn’t begin to describe the emotions that were churning in her brain and in her stomach. People didn’t go out of their way to make things easier for her. Quite the opposite, it seemed.
“I don’t know what to say, Ruin. It’s just… so perfect,” she repeated.
“Say, ‘Let’s go for a drive’.”
She laughed. “Let’s go for a drive!”
She started to climb in behind the steering wheel, but Raze said, “Don’t you want to get your license?”
Stopping dead still, she realized that he’d said she needed to get her license, not that he wanted to see it. “Sure.” She smiled.
She grabbed her purse and, on the way to the back door, decided that Bless would like a ride, too. So she grabbed the leash, fastened it onto Bless’s collar, and hurried back out to what she was sure was the best car in the world.
Bless jumped into the back seat.
“How did you know I like Jeeps?”
He smiled. “I didn’t. How could I know that, stray girl?”
“I think it’s a sign.”
“A sign of what?”
She shrugged. “Have I ever told you I love red?” she asked Raze.
He shook his head slightly. “No. You never have.”
Taking a deep breath before she turned the key, she looked at Raze as if to say, “Will it or won’t it?”
The car growled awake then settled into a pleasant purr. She laughed and rolled the back window down for Bless.
Raze couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt more pleasure than he got from watching stray girl’s delight. She was practically glowing. Now and then she would stop and fiddle with something on the console or the steering column. She tried the radio, the cruise control, and the fog lights.
“Oh look. This shows me what direction I’m going.” She was referring to a small lighted directional display on the rear view mirror.
“It doesn’t have GPS.”
“I don’t need that. I have this!” She tapped the little display on the mirror that said NW.
“It is four wheel drive. That means you’re gonna spend more in gas, but you’re not likely to get stuck in the mud.”
She nodded her approval. “The inside feels like, I don’t know, luxury. I don’t know how you got this for… Wait a minute. Did somebody die in this car?”
Raze stared at her for a full two seconds before laughter overtook him. Since Clover had never heard him laugh before, she was momentarily stunned.
She pulled off to the side of the road and said, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh.” He shrugged. “Tell me why that is.”
“What? That I’m not yucking it up half the time like a damn fool?”
“No,” she said carefully. “Why you’re so serious most of the time. Did something bad happen to you?”
Looking into her eyes, in the quiet intimacy of the cab of a Jeep Liberty, he felt like he could lose himself in the sincerity he read there. Of its own volition, his hand reached over to slide a lock of silky hair through his fingers. It was cool to the touch. And soft. So soft. He was a little mesmerized by the feel.
At length he said, “I guess to answer that question I’d have to tell you stuff about myself.”
“Okay.”
“You think you could find your way back to the house?”
She looked around and laughed when she realized that she was going to have to admit that she had no idea where they were. She shook her head.
“Let’s head back. Turn left at that stop sign.”
Six minutes later they were walking into the kitchen. She sat down at the dinette. Raze put an envelope of papers on the table before he went to the refrigerator and took out a beer. He held up a bottle in query as to whether she wanted one or not.
She said, “Water. Please.”
When he sat down, he opened the envelope and took out the papers. “I had them leave the name blank since I’m not sure what name is on your driver’s license. And it needs to match. Right now the car has an insurance binder in my name. We’ll get it switched over as soon as I know who to say is the owner of the car.”
She looked down and put her hands in her lap. “Please don’t think I’m not grateful for… everything. But I can’t tell you any more about me than I already have.”
“What is it that you think might happen if you talk to me? About whatever it is that’s going on?”
“Well…” The truth was that, a couple of days before, when she hadn’t known anything about him, she didn’t know if he was the sort of person who would try to claim a reward. But even though she acknowledged that she wasn’t always the world’s best judge of character, hence three ex-boyfriends and one ex-husband, she felt sure down to the curl of her toes that Raze Rouen was not the betraying kind. “Would you promise that anything I sa
y…?”
“Just between us. You got my word.”
“I’m not telling stuff that could get me killed to somebody who won’t say why he doesn’t smile.”
“I smile.” His response was automatic while his brain was still replaying the phrase ‘get me killed’.
“No. You don’t. I spent the first few hours working for you calling you ‘frowny guy’. And here’s the thing. Everybody knew who I was talking about.”
“That might have been because of the context.”
“No. It wasn’t because of the context, Ruin. It was because they only see you frown.”
He took a swig of beer, eyes never leaving hers. “Woman wrecked my life.”
When he didn’t say more, she said, “Really? I’m not seeing that. Your life looks pretty together to me. You’ve got a thriving business. You own your own house. Two vehicles. A dog who’d die for you. Friends who like you enough to make an event out of teasing you. And a community who practically cheers when they see you dance. Your life doesn’t look wrecked. It looks like one big fat success story.”
Hearing things from an objective perspective caused an almost instantaneous shift. She was right. Dead on. And damn. What was he acting so fucking miserable about?
She wasn’t done. “But I still want to hear the story.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you and, if you feel like your life was ruined,” she couldn’t help but stop and smile at the play on words, “I want to know what you’re thinking. Wait. That’s not right. I’d want to know your history no matter what.”
“I’ll give the pocket version if you swear you’ll tell me everything and not hold back.” She looked solemn, like she wasn’t down with the plan. “The car is gassed up. All you have to do is fill your name in on the paperwork. I’ll give you what you earned for three shifts in addition to your tips. You can drive away and not look back.
“Or you can hang around long enough to see where this goes.” He motioned between the two of them, like it had been established that there was a ‘them’ to factor in. “I need to know who’s sleeping in my bed. And why.” He sat back and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “That’s not too much to ask. I probably don’t have to tell you how I’m hopin’ you choose, but if I got you a car that’s gonna take you away from me… so be it. I can’t get in deeper without knowin’ who you are.”
Roadhouse (Sons of Sanctuary MC, Austin, Texas Book 5) Page 9