by V. Theia
“Thanks, it erm... looks good.”
She laughed and took back the tray, propping it under her arm. “I can tell you think it’s the opposite, but trust me, you’ll like it. And it’ll stick to your ribs, as my grandmama would say, keep you warm all day.”
Again, dog shit—he’d lap it up if she told him to.
The breakfast was good. Even the damn oatmeal when he ended up scraping out the bowl. His belly was full, but his chest was empty. Story of his fucking life.
If not for the nagging things he needed to get done today he would have sat there most of the day.
A twinge of unknowns rippled through him as he stood to pay the bill.
Paige’s eye caught him from behind the counter while she served and smiled at everyone. She was a caring person, was Paige. If she saw someone in need of help she’d give it, no questions asked.
Several other eyes moved toward him when he rose and stepped over to the counter. He hadn’t realized what being part of an MC would mean until he was in the thick of it. He’d been in bar fights before and had guys try to test his patience and now people feared him by rumored reputation, but it was a whole other level of awareness being associated to the Souls.
Reaper was the least villainous member of the MC and that included Jed and that other old dude who could tell some crazy stories about his ‘good old days’.
As he knew now, a reputation needed nothing more than a few hushed whispers and the rest was history.
It didn’t bother him much, seeing how he didn’t want to talk to people, because he’d known all along that there could come a day when he stuffed his few personal possessions into a holdall bag, and he’d leave Armado Springs without looking back.
The young girl … Lucie, he thought her name was, who Paige hired this past summer, took his money and he tossed the ten dollars change into the tip jar along with another twenty. He’d stuff hundreds in there if he thought Paige wouldn’t chase him down and push the money back into his chest.
Sweet and caring, she was. Also proud as fuck, too much, he reckoned, like most head strong women tended to be. She wouldn’t even let him take her shit car in for a service last year when it died in the middle of the street—because she’d guessed correctly, he wouldn’t have charged her for it.
She’d taken it to another garage over in West Bank Falls owned by Jamie Steele, the prez of the Apollo Kingsmen.
It took one phone call to ensure they gave her an astronomically lucky discount that day on all the repairs needed and Reaper called in later to pay the rest.
He knew what he wanted to do. God, did he.
It was for Paige’s own good that he didn’t follow through on any of it.
Wasn’t it?
It was what he told himself. What he knew, more to the point.
Some things just were, and he had to be okay about it.
Just looking at her was enough. Had to be enough.
It got him through each day.
Knocking his knuckles on the counter he got her attention.
Reaper saw the rapid pulse of her heartbeat in the long column of her neck thrumming wildly. Was she as excited looking at him as he felt for her?
He knew she was attracted to him. He’d have to be dead not to recognize it. She was shy and friendly, and they’d forged a kind-of friendship over the years that Reaper himself had sought out deliberately. Some happy coincidences were not coincidences at all.
He half smiled and winked and held a hand up to tell her bye.
He wouldn’t say see you tomorrow. More likely it would be later, just as soon he got finished collecting the gambling money.
There was so much he’d wanted to say for a long time and no matter how he worded it in his head on those drunken nights he felt extra pathetic, he never said any of them. He wanted to lay it all out there for Paige to see … to understand and Reaper—for the fucking life of him, couldn’t find the beginning of that sentence.
There hadn’t ever been a time he’d tried to stay away from Paige.
As hopeless as it was, he needed these moments.
Some people took pills for their illnesses.
Reaper took Paige in, one greedy glance at a time.
He liked her and she liked him.
Anyone would question Reaper where the problem was and why wasn’t she in his bed already.
How long do you have? He’d ask them.
CHAPTER THREE
“When one door closes and another one doesn’t open? Just climb through a window.” - Paige
“So, how was it today?” Paige’s best friend and fellow crafting hoarder asked, leaning both elbows on the counter. The day crowd had thinned out some, but the diner was never truly empty, it was why she’d hired Lucie a few months ago to help between her college classes.
The town librarian, who happened to be Paige’s second most favorite person ever, was a horrible gossip ever since she stepped up her campaign to get Paige as blissfully in love and happy as she was with her own biker.
Winter was gorgeous with her silver hair and curved, pregnant body and laughing eyes. She dressed like one of those 1950’s pin up girls and they had a standing date to get together most days during their lunch breaks to gossip.
Until now it was just about Winter’s boy and all the damn sex they were having.
But ever since Paige confessed to liking Reaper, Winter loved nothing more than quizzing Paige on every sighting and meeting she had with him in order to help her non-existent relationship to bloom.
“Winter, I told you, I’m over that little crush.” Paige informed with her head firmly tucked down over the milk she was frothing so Winter couldn’t see the lie on her face.
She thought of the very big and casually brutal looking biker with his jaw-length sandy-colored hair always tucked into a beanie hat. His stubble face that appeared as though he was two days late shaving and his supple looking lips she wanted to bite.
Not to mention his straddle-worthy hips and hands like shovels that looked so damn capable of holding …anything.
Her belly flipped and flopped. Especially when she thought about how good he always smelled. He had perfect white teeth and clipped nails and perfect veins on the back of his hands that rolled right up his muscled forearms. He dressed simply in jeans and long-sleeved shirts, but he owned the look and she loved it.
Yeah, she was over that crush. It had moved onto the next level, but no one needed to know that.
It was sooooo embarrassing. Who developed crushes at her age? On celebrities, sure! They were unattainable and safe. But her crush, the one who made her knees weak and her panties soaking wet. Every. Single. Freaking. Day, he walked in and out of her job and gave her the most intense stares of her life. And the urge to grab at all the unsaid words he had hiding in his eyes became somewhat of a problem for her.
And sometimes he gave her a sexual look that made her inner thighs quiver.
“Okay, Pinocchio. Then it won’t matter to you that he’s across the street talking to a hot girl and they look very friendly?”
Paige nearly broke her neck, her ankles and lost the jug of milk in her haste to look out of the window. And see nothing of the sort.
She turned back around to see her friend cackling. “Look at that, I think the crush has resurrected.”
“You’re a bitch,” she laughed. “Okay, fine. I like him more than ever. But it’s not going to happen, you know this. I know this. It’s hopeless. I did have a few connections on the dating app, though.”
Nerves bit through her stomach lining. Most of the guys messaging her were looking for a straight sex hook-up and the way they’d spoken was kinda vile. Didn’t they know what romance was?
A couple of them had stood out as decent guys who could hold a conversation, so she’d made dates with both of them for the coming week. She was already regretting it.
“Carry your own condoms. Don’t assume they have them.” Winter advised sipping on her mocha latte.
P
aige chuckled. “I’m not having sex on the first date.”
“You don’t know that. You might take one look at what’s behind horny door #1 and attach your lady bits to his face. Be prepared with condoms.” Then added, with her grin all saucy in that way Winter got when she was about to TMI Paige some sex stories about her husband. “You know how it was for me and Beau. We were only talking for minutes before I was leaving in a cab with him.”
“Because you, dirty girl, were looking to get laid. I’m not. God, do you even know how long it’s been since I’ve had sex? Because I don’t. But I know I won’t be first date banging.”
“Are you girl-scaped down there?”
“Oh-my-god, Winter!” Paige half-laughed then half-panicked that old Harry at the other end of the counter had heard, but he was busy spooning all day pancakes into his mouth. The sweet old man had strawberry jam in his beard, so she took a fistful of napkins down his way and returned to her friend. “Ever since you got pregnant and started having sex five times a day, you’ve turned into an oversharing harlot.”
“I know,” Sighed Winter with a dreamy smile on her face. “Beau is…”
Through all their nightly texting, Paige knew exactly what Beau was because Winter shared in great detail. Seriously, pregnancy had rendered her friend filter-less.
She only felt a tiny envious cinch in her chest but was still 100% happy for her bestie finding the most epic love. To see them together it was just magical, that man of Winter’s was what romance books were written about. As dreamy as she knew Snake to be, it was only one man who caused Paige’s underwear to combust.
“Are you sure about this, Paige?”
The dating app. They’d had this conversation already. She chewed her lip while she refilled the saltshakers.
“How long have I known Reaper now? Years! And he hasn’t so much as held my hand let alone put that hand down my pants, Winnie. We spend Christmas together and I think he likes me; he brings me all the things I love eating and he’s so… I don’t know … kind. He leaves me charms for my bracelet in places around my apartment where he knows I’ll find them after he’s gone. But nothing happens. I’m his buddy, that’s it. I have to accept it. I’m friend-zoned so bad I can see the friendship bracelets he’s going to make for me.”
“Are we absolutely sure he’s not gay?”
Paige’s heart stuttered.
“If he is, then he hasn’t drooled over a Hemsworth brother in front of me.”
“That’s because Captain America is hotter.”
Winter reached across the counter and covered her hand. Sympathy. Which only made Paige extra pathetic.
Being in heavy lust-sortof-love was so catastrophic when it wasn’t reciprocated.
She completely cherished being Reaper’s friend and if that’s all it ever would be she’d be perfectly happy. She would.
“I’m fine, let’s not get our tiny violins out just yet. I have two dates this week and it’s more than I’ve had all year.”
“Yay. Do you want help deciding what to wear?”
Winter boasted a gorgeous custom-built-closet of outfits. Paige? Not so much. She owned a few choice dresses and heels and she liked watching YouTube tutorials of sixteen-year-old boys teaching her how to perfect contouring, but she was hopeless with fashion and always went for comfort. Her style was eclectic, erring on the side of street clown. She loved colors and wearing lots of colors at the same time.
“Only if you’re sure you can climb off your hubby long enough to help me.”
Winter blushed. That meant Paige was on her own.
To be fair, if she herself had a gorgeous husband offering his hard body day and night for her use, she too would become a flake of a friend.
Orgasms before besties. Wasn’t that the saying?
“A word, Paige … if you’ve finished chatting.” She heard calling out from the back in a booming voice.
She cringed. Ugh, her boss sounded about as happy as a bull going to market. He only came in once a week to look over the books and he was always in a bad mood lately. She clashed eyes with Winter who’d heard all her work woes about the boss who happened to share a name with Winter’s husband. Unfortunately that’s where the similarities ended. He wasn’t always a cantankerous man. Not when he hired her on the spot anyway. But in this last year he’d been yelling at everything and everyone.
She told Winter she’d see her later and moved through the swinging doors to the kitchen. It looked like hurricane boss had already swept through the kitchen and given the cook a dressing down because he was furiously chopping vegetables.
Twenty minutes later she left the boss’ office and walked back to her duties with her shoulders slumped.
Well that’s that, she thought.
Just when things were starting to look up, she might have to search for a new job in the very near future, and she loved the diner, for the most part. It was early mornings and long arduous hours on her feet, plus more responsibilities with the on-site baking, but she still loved it. And who would say no to a regular income when things like heat and ramen needed to be paid for?
The owner wanted to sell.
And depending on who bought the place it might not stay a diner. Fast food places, especially drive-thru’s were everywhere now. Local diners like this one, were closing all the time, unable to compete with the chains.
It also meant her dream of owning her own cake shop would grow further away if she had to live off her savings.
Paige went about her duties on autopilot for the next few hours. Pouring coffee and cutting slices of pie served with whipped cream and smiling at every customer.
She talked and laughed and listened to other people’s daily grind and all the while her mind was fixated on what she could do.
Later still she was clearing tables and setting tasks for Lucie and helping the cook with a heavy order. She stepped out behind the counter, so ready for the day to be over so she could go home and boil herself in the tub and eat full fat ice cream. None of that protein crap. She needed the sugar and the feel-good guilt it brought with it.
It was her job to be courteous and any other day it came naturally. Today, not so much, but only one person noticed.
Only one person strode up to the counter like he’d just climbed down off his horse in the bloody battlefield and didn’t give a shit who he collided with.
Reaper’s hooded eyes burned through Paige, and she had to take a steadying breath before she truly looked at him with a smile.
How could he be so handsome? It was rude. She looked away before her heart scrambled.
“What’s wrong?” He all but growled, his face clouded over.
How could a man so big be so invisible at the same time? His body was so dense with muscle mass and yet she’d watched him on more than one occasion prowl through the diner and no one paid a lick of attention to him. She wondered how he coordinated a body so big and sleek as a wild animal.
“W-what do you mean? Nothing is wrong. What can I get you?”
“Paige. What’s wrong?”
Oh, jeez. The rattle from his throat was a warning for her to dare tell him it was nothing again. It was so flipping unfair, her heart felt like a fish caught in a net.
“Just a bad afternoon, nothing to worry about, Reaper. Do you want a coffee?”
He sort of inhaled and didn’t let it out for a very long time. Longer than was proper for breathing and Paige’s eyebrows rose up into her pink-blonde wispy hairs along her forehead line.
Then he moved.
Like a ghost, he was suddenly around the counter opening. He took her wrist gently and pulled her through.
Paige had no choice but to follow the man.
Not like she wouldn’t, she was dazed and dazzled. This was a rare time he was touching her voluntarily and her poor heart was pitter-pattering like an engine that wouldn’t start.
He took her over to his booth, swerving his manly hips so he didn’t knock over any chairs in his rush.
God, she loved the way he walked. Masculine, purposeful and determined. She often watched him leaving the diner just so she could gaze at his long, long legs.
Yeah, his legs, right, Paige. She watched his gorgeous ass.
When he’d urged her to slide into the seat of his booth, he took the other, resting both of his laced hands on top of the table, he again pinned her with his golden eyes, Paige felt the intensity right down to her shoes. Her toes curled and she tried so hard not to squirm and clasp her thighs together to stop the tingly ache in the apex.
“I can see it on your face.” He claimed. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
She sighed. “My boss just told me he’s selling and if the new owners don’t want to keep it as a diner then I’m going to be jobless.”
Long seconds ticked by with the only reaction from Reaper being his strong jaw muscle twitching. She wasn’t sure he’d even speak. He wasn’t known for his conversation skills. He listened really well, but as for giving back many words…not so much.
“What a fucking jackass.” He said finally and her eyes rounded with amusement. “Did he say when all this was going down?”
“Nope, just he was hoping to sell before the end of Summer.”
Basically in a couple of months seeing how it was coming up to August now.
Her nervous fingers laced together.
“I’m sorry, Paige.” He spoke quietly. His far-away accent sliding through her as it always did, touching her skin and bones and soft places. She wished at times he’d speak more, to give her his voice and sexy, rough timbered accent. Other times she was so damn glad he was practically a mute because he affected her in so many ways that taking away one aspect of his appeal was needed.
“It’s okay, it happens. I’ll find a new job.” It was just a pain in the neck that she might have to. It was just one more spoke in the tire to offset her life goals, but Paige wasn’t one for being down for too long. She’d bounce back and carry on.
It was what life was all about, tripping over the cracks, picking yourself up and overcoming the tough times.