“We’re friends with benefits sometimes. She lives at the Insurgents’ clubhouse, and she’s one of several women there who … have fun with the club members. It’s nothing serious at all. I’ve never taken her on the back of my bike.” Shrugging, he splayed his hands on his lap.
Savannah’s brows knitted as a look of confusion etched her face. “Is that a big deal to have a woman on the back of your bike?”
“Fuck yeah, woman. A lot of bikers don’t let just any chick on their bikes, only the ones who matter.”
“How many have you taken?” she asked softly.
“One, but that was a long time ago.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“How often do you and Brandi meet up?”
“Not that often. Sometimes she comes over here, but usually it’s when I go to the parties at the clubhouse. The brothers have parties like all the fucking time, but I only go once in a while. I like being alone.”
“What do the club girls do at the clubhouse?”
Ryder shook his head as he scrubbed his face. “Are you sure you wanna know? Most citizens don’t get it when they find out.”
“I’m presuming I’m a ‘citizen,’ but try me anyway.”
“They service my brothers here as well as brothers from our other chapters and different MCs. Even if there isn’t a party, they’re expected to be available whenever a brother wants them. The Insurgents don’t force a club girl if she doesn’t want to fuck, but it’s sorta one of the conditions in order to get free room and board and a monthly stipend. The girls want to be there. They choose that life.”
“I see.”
Ryder couldn’t read Savannah; he didn’t know if she was repulsed by what he said or what. “Are you disgusted?”
“No. Why would I be? Everyone knows the score. It’s not like a member forces himself on one of them. That would be disgusting and unconscionable.”
He saw tears well up in her eyes, and she turned away, rubbing her eyes as if pretending that something was in them.
“Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Severity had crept into her voice.
“I hope I didn’t upset you. I want you to know that Brandi was nice to me after all the shit went down with my leg. It took me a long fucking time to even think about being with a woman, but we don’t have any feelings other than friendship.”
“I think she likes you a little more. I could tell by the way she looked at me.”
Ryder reached over and held Savannah’s hands. “I don’t want you thinking that you gotta compete with her because since I laid eyes on you, I haven’t thought about her for one fucking second. She came here because she wanted to know why I hadn’t come over to the club. I told her I was interested in you, and I am. I know it’s crazy, but I feel something for you even though we’ve only known each other less than two weeks.”
“It’ll be two weeks tomorrow,” she whispered. “I feel something for you too, and I keep telling myself that this whole thing between us is insane. I’ve never been one to act recklessly.”
“Maybe playing it too careful is making us both miss out on something great. I don’t know, but I do know you’re driving me fucking nuts, darlin’, and it pisses me off.”
Savannah laughed. “What I’m feeling for you pisses me off too.”
Chuckling, Ryder scooted over and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close as he leaned back against the couch. She rested her head on his chest, and he inhaled the vanilla scent of her shampoo while his fingers played with her hair, lightly sifting through and entwining the strands around them. Her hair’s so damn soft—like satin or velvet. Fuck.
“This is nice,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” He thought about asking Savannah why she’d run away from her husband, and if she was going back after she got whatever it was out of her system, but he didn’t want the answer to that, at least not right then. He had no desire to find out whether he was a rebound, and that she possibly could be heading back to Boston to rekindle her love with the man she’d married.
Not now.
That night, Ryder simply wanted to take all of her in—from her tantalizing scent, quiet breaths, and silky hair, to her sweet taste and natural beauty.
Even though she was a strong woman, there was a vulnerability and frailty about her that seduced him.
Despite the fact that his whole body raged with a burning desire and lust for Savannah, Ryder wasn’t going to push her. He wanted her to open up to him.
He could wait.
He was a patient man.
Deeper breaths accompanied by light snores made him smile as he looked down at Savannah’s peaceful face. He dipped his head down and lightly brushed his lips over hers, then tightened his arm around her shoulder and stared into the slowly dying fire.
Chapter Thirteen
Harry popped the tab on a Pepsi he’d bought in the gift shop of the Pinewood Springs Hotel and plopped down on a chair in his hotel room before tapping in Bret’s number on his cell phone.
On the third ring, Bret answered. “Any news?”
“Not yet. I’ve scoured this whole damn place but no sign of her or your son. Is your mother-in-law sure that your wife said Pinewood Springs?”
“Yes. Mary’s good at details and she wouldn’t have reached up her ass for that name—meaning, the town fucking exists.” Irritation laced Bret’s voice.
“It’s just strange that there’s no sign of them anywhere.”
“Mary said some dude befriended them, remember?”
“It’s my fucking job to remember.” Heat rose up Harry’s neck as he swallowed a large gulp of soda, letting it slide down his throat and abate his anger.
“Maybe the guy lives outside of Pinewood Springs.” Impatience had replaced irritation in Bret’s tone.
“I know what the fuck I’m doing. I’ve been to more damn small neighborhoods and areas, trudging through piles of fucking snow, and I still got zip.” Harry crushed the can in his hand and tossed it in the trash. “There’s a community thing going on tonight. Some tree-lighting ceremony. I’ll check it out and see if I can spot them there.”
“If Savannah’s anywhere near that damn hick town, she’ll be there with Timmy. She’d never let Timmy miss something like that—she’s always thinking of the kid and putting him first.” Bret gave a dry laugh.
“Kids like those things.” For a brief second, Harry’s three children filled his mind, and a short jab of pain hit his gut. His wife had walked out on him two years before, and he hadn’t blamed her; he was never home. Harry sighed loudly as he scratched his chin and glanced out the window at people rushing around the streets, many of them carrying Christmas-themed bags. It was during the holidays that losing his family hit him the hardest.
“Are you still with me?” Bret asked.
“Yeah. The phone just faded out a bit. Anyway, I’ll check it out tonight and get back to you. No sense in you coming here if your family’s not here.”
“They’re there. Just fucking find them.”
The phone went dead and Harry clenched his jaw. “If you didn’t pay me so well, you fucking prick, I’d tell you what I really thought of you,” he muttered, slipping the phone in his pocket. Bret’s father was a gentleman. Wayne always treated him with respect and not as if he were a bumbling, incompetent idiot the way Bret did. A large part of him understood why Bret’s wife took off with their son, but it wasn’t his job to judge. Harry’s job was to find them and let the man take it from there. The large sum of money he was paid allowed Harry to push away his contempt for the spoiled asshole and focus on his job.
Just then, his stomach growled.
Harry stood up and grabbed his jacket and the room key, then left.
Chapter Fourteen
“I think it needs to be moved over a little more,” Savannah said, pointing to the right of tree and trying to suppress a giggle as exasperation masked Ryder’s face.
“This is the last damn time I’m moving this monstrosity, woman.”
“Then I guess you better get it right.” She threw him a big smile to his scowl.
Shaking his head, he grabbed hold of the tree and inched it over.
“Perfect.” She clapped her hands.
“Now can we decorate it, Mommy?” Timmy asked.
“We sure can!” Savanah walked over to the boxes of lights and ornaments she’d bought earlier that morning at Walmart. She wished she had some of the beautiful bulbs her grandmother had given her before she died, but she’d left everything behind when she ran away that fateful day.
“I’ve done my part,” Ryder said, walking over to the couch.
“Just point me in the direction of a ladder and we’re good,” she replied, untangling a string of lights.
For a few seconds, Ryder’s eyes darted from the tree to her then back to the tree, and then he mumbled something inaudible—most definitely some cuss words—and stalked back over to the tree, taking the lights from her hands. Without a word, he started wrapping them around the tree from the top down. Warmth spread throughout Savannah while she watched him, and she felt as though her heart was dancing around in her chest, filling a hole no one had ever done before. To think that Ryder was a complete stranger just a couple of weeks before, and now she couldn’t imagine him not being around. It just blew her mind.
Savannah scanned the room, her gaze landing on the three stockings hanging from the mantel, the snowmen and Santa decals on the glass panes, and the string of lights around the kitchen window. The man who hates Christmas did this all for us. As if he sensed Savannah’s eyes on him, Ryder turned around and looked back at her, a string of lights dangling from his hands. The faint glimmer of the afternoon sun ghosted over his olive skin, and there was something so beautiful in those brown eyes, something so safe and warm.
Savannah padded over to him and stroked the side of his face then kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “Thank you for doing all this for me and Timmy,” she whispered in his ear.
A low growl emitted from his throat, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close.
“No worries, darlin’. I’m under your fucking spell.” He brushed his lips across hers.
Giggling, Savannah pushed away. She wanted to kiss Ryder passionately but didn’t want to confuse Timmy. He had taken a real liking to Ryder. The two of them had spent quite a bit of time together in the workshop with Timmy trying out each toy Ryder had made. Outside, they’d had fun snowball fights, made at least five snowmen, and had built a really cool snow fort. Ryder had spent more time with Timmy in just two short weeks than Bret had in the entire six years of Timmy’s life. Savannah didn’t want to get Timmy’s hopes up about Ryder and herself, especially if things didn’t work out between them—a thought that made her heart ache.
After Ryder had finished wrapping the last strand of lights, he looked over his shoulder at Savannah, who was perched on the edge of the couch placing hooks on the ornaments.
“That’s the last thing I’m gonna do with this tree—the rest is your job.” His tone was gruff, but his eyes were twinkling.
“And mine!” Timmy danced in place, and Ryder and Savannah laughed.
“You do the bottom half, sweetie, and I’ll do the top. After we’re done, I’ll serve the sugar cookies we made this morning.”
An hour later, empty boxes were in the garage, broken bulbs in the trash, and the floor was spotless as the three of them sat on the couch—Timmy in the middle—eating cookies, drinking hot chocolate, and watching the colored lights reflecting off the bulbs.
“It’s the most beautiful tree we’ve ever had,” Savannah said.
“I got to help. It’s the best,” Timmy replied.
And it was because they all did it together. It was the first time in years that she and Timmy had decorated a Christmas tree. They’d always had decorators come into their Boston home and deck it out to the nines. Bret told her it was what the Carltons did, so he employed the same company that did his parents’ home to do theirs as well. It was breathtakingly gorgeous, but it felt too perfect and lacked the homey feel of the holidays.
“This is your first real Christmas tree,” she said softly then kissed the top of his tousled hair.
“No shit? I mean … no way,” Ryder replied.
“Daddy had people do it for us. I like this better.” Timmy took another bite of his cookie.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryder put his arm on the back of the sofa, and her body tingled in anticipation of his touch. His warm fingers lightly caressed the back of her neck, and she raised her hand and placed it on his, squeezing it lightly.
Savannah sat staring at the tree as Ryder and Timmy talked while Brutus was sprawled next to Ryder’s feet. This is perfect. Maybe a bit more screwed up than a Norman Rockwell painting, but perfect nevertheless.
* * *
It was a Winter Wonderland of sparkling lights, glowing sculptures, animated displays, and an array of brilliant colors. Booths surrounded the perimeter of Main Square, selling homemade baked goods and cups of hot cider and cocoa.
Savannah stood next to Ryder, her arm looped around his, and watched as Timmy sat on Santa’s lap telling him what he wanted for Christmas. Several good-looking men wearing leather jackets with the Insurgents’ name and logo on the back came over to Ryder and bumped fists with him. She recognized just a few of the men: Hawk, Banger, Throttle, Rags, and Animal. The majority of the others were strangers to Savanah, but they lifted their chins to her when Ryder made the introductions.
“Santa gave me this,” Timmy said, holding up a multi-colored sucker.
“Let’s leave it for tomorrow,” Savannah said, placing it in her purse. Timmy was already bouncing from all the sugar he’d ingested since they arrived at the festival a couple of hours before.
“When are they gonna light the tree?” Timmy asked.
“Real soon, so we should head over to it,” Ryder answered.
As they stood listening to the mayor give his holiday speech, Savannah leaned against Ryder’s arm, and he looked sideways at her and smiled. He’d placed Timmy on top of his shoulders so the boy could see the festivities over the heads of the adults crammed in front of them.
Suddenly, an uneasy feeling quivered in Savannah’s stomach and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Someone’s watching me. The feeling overwhelmed her, and she knew whoever it was stood just behind her. Gripping Ryder’s upper arm, she slowly looked over her shoulder and met the steely eyes of a man whose face looked as if it’d been rearranged a few times. A thick scar ran from his left temple to the middle of the cheek, pockmarks peppered his skin, a big bump lay atop his crooked nose, and his thin lips reminded her of those on her brother’s lizard from when they were kids.
Savannah shuddered. Do I know him? She wracked her brain, but nothing came up. I’m sure I’d remember seeing someone that creepy. Angling her head slightly, she noticed that the man was still behind her, watching.
“Don’t make it obvious, but have you seen that guy behind me before? I’m just wondering if he lives here,” she said to Ryder.
“Is someone bothering you?” A hard edge marked his voice.
“No … that’s not it. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen him around town.”
Ryder glanced backward then shook his head. “Don’t know him, but I don’t go into town very often.” His gaze landed on a tall, built man in a leather jacket. Ryder raised his hand and gestured him over.
The tall man looked at Savannah then at Ryder, lifting his chin at him. “What’s up, dude?”
“Have you seen this guy behind me? The one whose nose looks like it’s been broken a few times.”
The brown-haired biker turned around and stared at the man. “What the fuck are you looking at?” he asked him.
“The tree,” the man said.
“Bullshit,” Ryder added, turning around slightly.
Savannah’s
chest tightened. What are they doing? I just asked about him, I don’t want to be the cause of any trouble.
The young biker took a couple of steps toward the stranger. “Where the fuck are you from?”
“Here.”
“Wrong answer. I saw you come out of the Pinewood Springs Hotel last night.”
Soon, two other muscular Insurgents wandered over, joining in on the banter with the tall man.
“Ryder, I don’t want any trouble. I just asked you a simple question,” Savannah said in a soft voice.
“Man checks out a woman when she’s with another man has to expect some trouble,” he answered.
“Jerry, what’s going on?” a pretty blonde asked as she came toward the small group.
“Kylie, go back over to your dad. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The blonde tossed her hair and shook her head. “I don’t want you to start something. We came to have a good time. Let’s go back together.”
The stranger crossed his arms. “Listen to the girl—she’s talking sense.”
“What the fuck did you say to me, old man?” Jerry clenched his fists.
“Rock, Clotille wants you to help out with James,” Kylie said.
“Tell her I’ll be there,” Rock said, and Savannah noticed his dark eyes never left the stranger’s face.
“Ryder … think of Timmy. Please stop this from going any further,” Savannah pleaded.
His jaw seemed to soften a bit, and tenderness pushed away the anger in his brown eyes. “Brothers, leave it be.” He then pivoted toward the man, Timmy’s small hands buried in Ryder’s hair. “Move away and there won’t be trouble. Staring at a man’s woman is gonna get your ass kicked.”
The blond-haired man’s eyes shifted from Ryder to Savannah then to Rock and Jerry before he gave a slight shrug and walked away. Savannah exhaled slowly through her nose as her nerves calmed down.
“I know where that sonofabitch is staying,” Jerry said.
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