Wait, was I supposed to do that? Does he want me to go with him or hang back? This is complicated as hell. Smokey didn’t pull his hand away, so she went with it and stood silently by his side as he greeted his friends.
The older man was still looking at her. “Who’s the lady?”
She almost extended her hand and introduced herself, but stopped. He was asking Smokey the question, not her.
Smokey tugged her forward. “This is Ashley.”
“Why is she here?” a tall man with striking blue eyes asked. His features were hard and stern, as if chiseled from the finest marble.
Holy shit. I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side, or any of them for that matter. There was enough testosterone in the air to suffocate a bear.
“She’s the marketing manager of Zach’s firm, IMG. She’s helping me with some advertising.”
“Again—why the fuck is she here?”
“When Willy called, she was with me. You got a fuckin’ problem with that?” Smokey said, his tone icy.
Stiffening, she held her breath. The tension between them was so thick, she feared they’d start throwing punches any second.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a tall man with wiry gray hair and bushy mustache heading their way.
Coming up to her, he extended his hand. “I’m real glad to meet you, young lady.”
Startled, Ashley stared at his hand, not knowing what to do. When Smokey gently nudged her arm, she reached out and shook it.
“Ashley, this is Willy.” To Willy, he asked, “How was the trip?”
“Real good. The tourists haven’t invaded the state yet, so we had the mountain passes and canyons to ourselves.”
As they chatted, the uneasiness between Smokey and the blue-eyed biker dissipated. Zach wasn’t exaggerating when he told me about the Insurgents. I’d say it’s a good thing Willy came when he did.
“Ashley wants to talk to you about hiring a couple of teens from the Mount Vista shelter.”
He turned his attention to her. “I’d be open to that.”
“I’m a volunteer at the shelter. There are a few boys I have in mind. Smokey has someone too.”
A big grin broke out over Willy’s face as he grabbed her hand. “I’d love to hear about them. But first, I want you to meet my buddies.”
As he guided her away and over toward his friends, Smokey turned back to his club members. Not one of them looked her way, so she focused her attention on remembering the crazy road names of Willy’s biker friends. After several minutes of answering their questions, Willy gave her a tight hug.
“I’m mighty happy right now. I’ve been waiting a long time for Smokey to bring a lady around.”
Not knowing what to say, Ashley smiled.
“Do you want a beer? A shot of whiskey?”
“No thanks. I wouldn’t mind a Coke if you have some.”
Willy slapped his wrinkled tanned forehead with the palm of his hand. “Dammit to hell!” I knew I forgot something at the store. I always write these fuckin’ lists and forget to take them when I go into town.”
“No worries. I’m good, really.”
Frowning, he tapped a finger against the side of his mouth, and then suddenly, the warm smile was back. “Wait. I got some 7-Up. It doesn’t have the caffeine, but I can put a shot of rum in it to give you a buzz.”
She laughed. “7-Up is perfect, and I don’t need a buzz right now.”
“When you do, you let me know.” With a wink, he made his way to the bar.
For the next hour or so, Ashley sat on the couch, nursing her flat soft drink, and watching the dynamics in the room. The older blond Insurgent mingled easily with Willy’s friends while the other men talked among themselves, only branching out occasionally to speak with Willy.
“Cara wants you to call her,” the intense, blue-eyed biker said.
Smokey nodded. “Will do.”
Who’s Cara? And what does Smokey have to do with her? A thread of insecurity took hold, making her question whether letting Smokey into her bed had been a good idea. The man was a hound. Just because he took her out for a hardy meal before introducing her to Willy, didn’t mean he’d changed his ways. Her mother’s favorite expression echoed in her ears:
“A leopard never changes its spots.”
“You coming to the club?” one of the Insurgents asked.
Smokey shook his head no.
“So you’re not gonna be at the club party tonight?”
“Don’t think so.”
After bumping fists, six of the members walked out of the room, and soon after, the roar of their motorcycles echoed through the house.
“I fucking love that sound!” one of Willy’s friends, Pac Man, shouted.
“Nothing like it in the world. Hawk told me he’ll hook me up with an aftermarket exhaust,” Willy said.
“Those motherfuckers are loud,” Grizzly said.
Smokey grinned. “And what’s your fuckin’ point?”
The men laughed, and for a moment, Ashley wondered what world she’d stepped into. The way the men acted, along with their obsession with motorcycles, was something she’d never experienced before. Smokey was the only person she’d ever met who owned a motorcycle. Warner, a guy from high school, rode a dirt bike, but never acted like having one was a big deal. But Smokey and these men cherished their bikes. And I wouldn’t be surprised if motorcycles were the number one thing in his life—even before women.
“Are you ready to head out?” Smokey asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Grabbing his offered hand, she rose to her feet. “I am.”
“Did you speak to Willy about Gavin?”
“I mentioned him. He’s down with having two of them working at the farm, but part-time works best for him.”
“That’s cool.” Smokey waked over to Willy and clasped his shoulder. “Thanks, man. I’ll call you next week about breakfast.”
“Ruthie’s?”
Smokey chuckled. “Where else?”
Willy looked to Ashley. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t.”
“Smokey, you better take care of this pretty lady.”
“I plan to.”
Holy shit! Her chest swelled, her eyes darting to his.
Clearing his throat, he turned away. “Let’s go.”
Following behind him, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was just agreeing with Willy, or if he meant what he’d said. Is he planning to pursue a relationship with me? Do I want that? What happens when I go back home? Stop it! I’m the fucking queen of overanalyzing everything.
“What’d you think of Willy?”
“He’s great. You promised to tell me how you met him.”
Smokey opened the saddlebag so she could put her purse inside. “I’ll tell you about it at Blue’s Belly. Eric wants to see me about a project.”
“Okay, but I have a shift at the shelter tonight. I’m helping to serve dinner.”
“What time?”
“I need to be there at six-thirty.”
Straddling his bike, he gestured for her to climb on behind him.
“I’ll go with you.”
Did I hear him right? “You want to help serve dinner at the shelter?”
“I didn’t say anything about that. I’ll hang out with Gavin and a few of the other boys until you’re ready to go.”
His words made her body tingle. He wants to spend time with me. Then she saw his jaw harden and sunk down behind him. What’s going on now?
“Or maybe you’d rather I didn’t go.”
Frowning, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck. “Why would you say that? I love that you want to come with me.”
With a sharp nod, he gripped the handlebars. “Hold on.”
The bike roared to life. Squeezing her arms around his waist, he took off, flying down the dirt road leading to the old highway. As they rode past the open fields, Ashley tipped her head back and watched the clouds glide across
the blue sky. The moment was perfect: the scent of spruce and sweet hay in the air, the warm sunlight on her face, and Smokey’s strong body against hers.
Pulling into a parking space in front of Blue’s Belly, Ashley felt a twinge of sadness that the ride was over. When he jumped off the bike and strode away without a word, she hurried to catch up to him.
“Are you pissed at me?”
He stopped in his tracks. “No.”
“I think you are, and I don’t know why. Is it about the shelter? I was surprised you wanted to go with me, that’s all.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t shut down on me. I’m happy you want to spend time with me.” Leaning into him, she rested her hand on his arm and nuzzled against his shoulder.
Cupping her cheek, he raised her face up to his. “It’s nothing between us. Just got some club stuff on my mind.” His lips came down on hers. As the kiss grew deeper, more intense, she reveled in the sensation of his mouth devouring hers.
A horn honking in the parking lot interrupted them, and they broke apart.
Smokey burst out laughing. “Fucking Eric. He always has bad timing.”
A slender man with sandy brown hair got out of a flashy red convertible and waved at them. Lifting his chin, Smokey rocked back on his heels as Eric approached.
“Hey,” Eric greeted, taking in Ashley’s face.
“Hey,” Smokey replied, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Eric, this is Ashley. Ashley, this is Eric. Why don’t we all head inside?”
Once they entered, Ashley waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light of the bar.
“Grab a table. I’ll be back in a few,” Smokey said before moving away.
Seeing Whitney setting down a drink in front of a patron, Ashley made her way to the bar.
“Hi, Whitney.”
“Hiya. What brings you in so early on a Saturday?”
“I came with Smokey. He has to talk to Eric about something.”
Whitney leaned over the counter, her brown eyes twinkling. “Smokey? You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on there.”
“We work together.”
“I know that. So why are you here with your boss?”
Scanning the room for any sign of Smokey, she moved in closer to Whitney’s ear. “I bumped into him at the Twisted Spoke last night.”
“And?”
“We’re here today.”
Whitney’s eyes widened. “Because you spent the night together, right?”
Ashley’s lips twitched as she tried to fight the grin threatening to spread across her face. “Right.”
“Shit, girl!” Whitney yelped, smacking Ashley’s forearm. “He’s a sweet, cool dude, but he has a terrible weakness for the ladies. I love him as a friend, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“We’re just hanging out, that’s all.” She played it cool, not letting on how he affected her.
“As long as you’re in it for the short-term, and your eyes are wide open, it should be fine. And what the hell were you doing at a biker bar alone? I’ll only go there with Bruiser, and even then, it can get dicey when the guys get real shit-faced.”
“I forgot your boyfriend is a biker. Is he with a club?”
“No—he just likes to ride. He works sometimes with Smokey’s company doing construction. So tell me, what were you doing there?”
“I went to talk to Toque about working with some teens from the shelter. I didn’t know it was a biker bar until I got there. If I had, I wouldn’t have gone.”
“I’m kind of slammed here, Whitney.” Irritation laced Jared’s voice.
“Oh, shit—I’m sorry. There was only one person here five minutes ago, I swear.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled, staring at Ashley.
She returned his stare. “What? You’re blaming me? What is your deal?”
Whitney looked between them. “Did I miss something? What’s going on with you two?”
“He seems to have a problem with me, and I have no idea why.”
“Is that true?” Whitney asked, turning to Jared.
A scowl replaced the frown on his face. “We have customers waiting. Move it.” He slammed his fist on the bar then stormed away.
Whitney looked shocked. “I can’t believe he just talked to me that way. I’ve never seen him this mad before. Hell, I don’t even know what he’s so pissed about.”
“He’s a jerk?” Ashley offered in response. “For some unknown reason, I seem to grate his ass.”
“Now that I think of it, he had an attitude for no apparent reason with another woman who came into the bar last week. And a couple of weeks ago, he had a problem with a group of frat guys who were just having a good time. I forgot about that until just now.” Pausing, as if thinking on it, she shrugged. “Maybe he’s having a bad day. I can be a real bitch when I’m on my period or Bruiser pisses me off.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve had my raving lunatic moments, for sure. But, with me, he’s always in a bad mood.”
“Whitney!”
She giggled. “I better help him out. We’ll talk later.”
Watching her scurry away, she slid off the stool and found a table near the stage. The place looked much bigger when there weren’t so many people inside. Taking out her phone, she scrolled through the newsfeed.
“Do you want a drink?” Smokey asked.
Looking up at him, she smiled. “A glass of pinot grigio would be great.”
“Be right back.”
Her eyes followed him as he swaggered to the bar, admiring his round, tight ass, and the way the muscles in his arms rippled and flexed. Don’t get hooked on him. Whitney’s words confirmed what Ashley already knew: the man was a player—pure and simple. Sighing, she looked down at her phone again and tapped on an article about investing.
Focused on what she was reading, the clink of the glass on the table startled her. Smokey pulled out a chair and plopped down into it.
“Whatcha reading?”
“Just something about investing. Thanks for the drink.” She picked up the glass and took a sip. “Did you finish up your meeting with Eric?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.” She took another drink, then leaned back in her chair. “I wouldn’t want to piss your friends off. They come off as a rough bunch.”
“They are.”
“Who was the older guy with blond hair?”
“Banger—the club’s president.”
“Wow. Is he married?”
“Yeah.”
“Kids?”
“Yep.”
“Let me guess—you’re not going to elaborate on anything?”
Bringing the beer bottle to his lips, he said, “You got it,” and took a long pull.
“That’s cool. So who was the mean-looking one?”
He chuckled. “They all look mean.”
“Good point. And, by the way, so do you … sometimes. Anyway, I was asking about the guy with the black ponytail and deep blue eyes.”
“Our VP—Hawk. I warned you about him.”
“Is he married?”
“Yeah.”
“I won’t ask any more questions, because I already know your answers.” She decided to move on. “Well, Willy’s real nice. He doesn’t have that hard edge your club does. How did you meet him?”
Leaning back in his chair, he kicked his legs out in front of him, crossing one foot over the other. Silence fell between them, and Ashley pushed down her impatience, waiting until he was ready to talk.
“When I was growing up, my number one goal was to endure and escape, which I did when I hit thirteen. I wanted to get as far away as I could from the old bastard, so I headed to Denver, hitching most of the way there.”
“Did you know anyone in Denver?”
“Nope. It was the first time I’d been to a city, and all I wanted to do was survive without drawing too much attention to myself.”
“You must’ve been so scared. I can’t imagine being alo
ne at that age without my family.”
“I wasn’t scared. Living with my dad, I learned to hold my own. I just didn’t want to be sent back home, so I tried to live under the radar.”
“What did you do?”
“For a long time, I slept in all types of places—trains, stairwells, doorways, benches. During the warmer weather, I’d sleep under bridges or in the parks, always getting up before sunset so a badge wouldn’t find me.”
“Did you eat at the shelters?”
“No fuckin’ way—I couldn’t risk it. A minor couldn’t come and go in a shelter, and as hard as living on the streets was, it was a piece of cake compared to living with the old man.”
Ashley’s heart ached for the thirteen-year-old boy. She couldn’t even imagine how horrible it must’ve been. Living in homeless shelters when she was young was hard, but at least she had her family, and they all loved and supported each other. But Smokey—he was all alone.
“I don’t know how you did it.”
He shrugged. “Weed and booze helped. I met a nice lady who took me in, and I stayed with her for a year or so until her old man got out of prison.”
“That was so kind of her. You were lucky she came into your life. Have you kept in contact with her?”
Looking away, he said, “No,” and then cleared his throat. “Do you want another drink?”
“Just one more. I have to work at the shelter tonight, remember? I don’t think it’d be cool if I showed up bombed.” She smiled, but her mind was racing. He’s not telling me everything about this lady who took him in. If I press him, I know he’ll shut down. But maybe she didn’t have to know the whole story. He had the right to keep things from his past to himself, and that was okay.
“Did you want another round?” Jared asked as he approached the table.
“Yeah. What kind of music are the bands playing tonight?” Smokey asked.
“I think tonight is Reggae and Ska. Are you staying?” He shifted his gaze to Ashley, then back to Smokey.
Ashley scooted closer to Smokey. “Do you like Ska?”
Smokey smiled. “Sometimes. What about you?”
Smokey’s Distraction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Page 23