Finlay reared back, surprised. “Yae not even gonna hear what I have tae say?”
“No.”
Finlay slammed his hand on the table. “Hell, you gonna make mae say it, aren’t yae.”
Liam really didn’t care, but one: he never wanted to see his father beg, and two: it must be damned important to him. But you know what, Finlay owed him and that was the language his father understood. “Yes.”
Finlay’s mouth puckered into an asshole. “I cannae… I donnae want to do this without yae.”
It cost him a rib to say that. Good. “What do you need help with?”
Finlay looked around as if the feds were about to bust through the windows and arrest him. “Not here. Come home and we’ll talk there.”
By home, he meant his home, Liam’s childhood home. The place Liam hadn’t been in over a decade. “All right. I’ll be there later.”
Confused, Finlay leaned forward and grunted. “Yae not coming now?”
What the hell did he need help with that Liam had to come now? “I’m spending the day with my family. I’ll get with you later.”
“We have tae move fast.” Finlay slapped the table.
“And I said I’m with my family.”
“All day. The entire day?” Finlay snapped.
“It’s all right, Liam. We can finish up here and you can drop me off at the mall.” Sabrina had Vivi bouncing in her lap.
Finlay broke into a wide smile. “See, that’s a good lass. She’s a keeper. He ever give yae a problem, yae come see Finlay and I’ll knock him straight.”
Vivi clapped and drooled happily.
“All right. Enough. Get out of here and let me have my breakfast. I’ll meet you at your house.”
“Not gonnae ask me tae join yae?” Finlay asked miffed.
Sabrina started scooting over in her booth, when Liam said, “No. Another time, not today.” Bad enough Finlay interrupted his time with his ladies, he wouldn’t let him take it all. He had his priorities, and they were in the booth across from him. Something Finlay never figured out. “All of you outta here. I’ll call when I’m the way.”
He slid back into the booth opposite Sabrina and sighed over his cold pancakes. Like magic, the waitress placed a fresh plate in front of him and took the other away. He crooked his neck to see Madge throw him a kiss, then scowl at Finlay as she passed him a to-go bag and pointed to the door.
Liam turned back to his pancakes, doused them in syrup, cut into the stack, had it speared and almost in his mouth, when Sabrina said, “So…that was your father? What’s up with the two of you?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Oh, I’m sorry. Please don’t stop eating on my account.” It was only a question, not one meant to throw him off his food.
Liam ignored her and shoveled food into his mouth. He cleared half the plate before coming up for air. “How do you eat so fast and not choke?” She’d managed to eat half of her omelet, even with Vivi grabbing for the fork every time she took a mouthful.
“Military training,” he said and paused. She figured he was measuring his words, sanitizing what to say to her. “When in combat, if you get a chance to eat, you shovel it down, ’cause you never know when your next opportunity will come.”
She wanted to know more, she wanted to know everything, but didn’t want to push.
“How d’you know Finlay is my father?”
Duh. “He’s an older version of you.” His brows arched in denial. “I think you’re gonna be a hot old guy.”
Clearly pleased with what she said, he gave her one of his panty-melting grins. “Yah think?”
“Though your ego is clearly big enough… Yeah. I think.”
He shoveled more food into his mouth, his eyes on her while he chewed. “Finlay and I aren’t close.”
“I figured since you don’t call him Dad or even introduced us. I almost thought you were…” It was almost too hard to say. “Ashamed of me.”
“Whoa.” His fork clanked onto his plate. “Why the hell would you think that?”
She reached across the table and threaded her fingers between his. “When you said we were your family, did you mean that?”
He squeezed her hand. “I don’t say what I don’t mean. If I say you’re my family, then that’s what I mean. And I’m not talking about cousins.” He pointed his fork at her. “I see where this is going.” He swiped the plate to the side and leaned over the table. He took her chin in his hand and brought her close. “We ain’t just friends. We’re lovers.”
She shouldn’t love his cockiness. Really, she shouldn’t. “Is that what we are?” She leaned in and kissed him.
“Damn straight.” He plucked Vivi off her lap and settled her in his.
Her heart squeezed in her chest and warmth spread down her limbs. She’d never felt this way before. Never. And it terrified her as much as it excited her.
She never wanted a man to fix her, to knit all her frayed edges together, patch up the holes abuse had left. Shit, after Vincent, she’d sworn she’d never want another man ever again. Amazing what a bit of kindness does for a person, combine that kindness with respect, and the shattered person who arrived at his rental house nearly two months ago, was changed. Because of him.
They wrapped up breakfast and got back into the truck. “How long will you be in the mall?” he, asked.
She shrugged. It had been forever since she’d gone shopping, and even longer than that since she had money to shop without worrying where her next meal was coming from.
“I’ve been around enough women to know what that look means. Call me when you’re ready. I’ll pick you up.”
“I can get an Uber.”
“Call me when you’re ready,” he insisted, not ordered as he stopped in front of Macy’s.
“Because you asked so nicely.” She leaned over the console and kissed him, which turned into something longer than the peck she intended.
“You don’t stop, I’m gonna put this truck in drive and take you back home,” he whispered into her mouth.
“I guess I better get going.” She started to leave, but he stopped her.
“Date night, tonight.”
“I remember. That’s why I need to go to the mall.” She slipped out of the truck before he did change her mind. With Vivi in one arm and the diaper bag in the other, she met Liam at the back of his truck for the stroller.
He patted her ass as she wheeled away. “Call me.”
“I promise.”
Sabrina stepped through the sliding glass doors into shopping heaven. God, she missed retail nirvana. “We have to pace ourselves, Vivi.” After all, window shopping was free.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Amazing how time changes everything and nothing at all, especially not his childhood home. The house was the same dingy white color with faded green shutters. The ranch style three-bedroom home had seen better decades. It wasn’t even worth a flip, and that wasn’t his prejudice talking.
He opened the gate and crossed over the threshold of the property. The front yard was barren with dead weeds compared to the perfect green lawns of the neighbors. Liam doubted anyone was brave enough to complain.
He rang the doorbell and waited. There was movement in the house, footsteps, which wasn’t surprising with three Harleys parked in the driveway—Finlay’s classic 1975 hog and two others.
A patched member opened the door and stepped aside without comment. Liam entered his childhood home and yeah, the same worn-out furniture was still in the living room. Hell, they had to be older than twenty-three years old by now. The second patch member sat on the couch, a checker board in front of him. Poor guys, Finlay didn’t have a TV in the living room. He never did and apparently hadn’t changed.
“He’s in the back, in the sunroom.” The patch took the lead, but Liam waved him away.
“I used to live here, man.” That chip on the mantle, he did that. The paint spills on the first step of the staircase, he did that. The hole behind
Grandma’s picture, did Finlay ever find that? Liam strolled through the center of the house allowing the memories to overtake him. The good memories, and there were a few. Finlay had tried to the best of his ability. Was it his fault he fell short? Yeah, abso-fucking-lutely. However, as an adult, there was some shit you just had to let go. Parents weren’t perfect, they just had to be good enough to not totally fuck their kids up for life. As it turned out, he didn’t end up so bad.
He thought of Vivi and what her future held, and realized he wanted to be a part of it. All of it. With Sabrina.
Voices drew him to the sunroom. He paused in the doorjamb and peered at Finlay and his guest. A guy in a business suit with a tie that could double for a noose. Wasn’t what he expected.
“Liam, don’t stand there. Get your arse in here and greet Samuel, he’s Oscar’s son. You remember Oscar, he’s locked up at Club Fed.
Liam took a seat across from both men. He sat back in the uncomfortable wicker chair that creaked under his weight, crossed his leg over his knee, and said, “You got me here. Now what?”
“Wanna take the club legal. Have mae eye on a few businesses. I got no real business sense. Could use some help,” Finlay grunted.
Shocked to his core, Liam came back with, “Really? You never wanted my help before.”
“There’re some properties I want yae to look at, but we have tae move fast,” Finlay continued as if Liam hadn’t spoken. “Samuel is here because I want a partnership with yae, all legal like. I’ll put up the money and yae will run things.”
Partnership and money. “Who’s money? The club’s money? Illegal money? Have you ever heard of the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”
Finlay’s nostrils flared, a tell his patience had run thin. “I know what the FBI is, Liam, and there is nothin’ tae worry about. Tell him, Samuel.”
“I’m here to broker the partnership between you two. Nothing else,” Samuel said quickly and adjusted his tie.
Liam snorted. “Your lawyer doesn’t want to get his hands dirty. That should tell you something.”
Finlay nodded, unfazed. “What that means is it will be an honest business. Nothin’ phony. Nothin’ illegal.”
The last word hung there for a moment. Finlay raised an eyebrow. The bastard knew Liam was intrigued. He wasn’t completely ignorant of what had Liam going. He waved at Finlay to continue. His father would have to spell out exactly what he wanted. Liam would give no quarter. If Finlay wanted something, he would have to ask for it.
“We’ve bought two gun shops in the past six months. They’re both treading water.”
Gun shops usually did quite well. “Someone skimming?” Liam asked.
Finlay shook his head. “Pete and Jake are running ’em. They’ve been true to Mayhem longer than yae’ve been alive. I trust ’em.” He drank from his beer and stared out into the jungle he called a backyard. “Never hurts to check the books, though.”
“I know a good accountant,” Samuel volunteered.
Finlay nodded and just like that, turned his attention back to Liam. “I bought a fair-sized piece of land past State Road Twenty.” He threw back his head and cackled for a full second. “Got it on foreclosure. One guess to the previous owners.” He looked at Liam.
It didn’t take a psychic. “The Black Dragons. Is that why they plugged you?”
Finlay shrugged as if he hadn’t a care in the world and wasn’t healing from a life-threatening wound.
“You baited the bear and got bit.”
“I survived.” Finlay smirked.
Liam couldn’t deny he was impressed, slightly.
“The land is rural, secluded. I have an idea to put a survival camp out there.” Finlay rolled the beer bottle between his hands.
Liam shook his head. That will attract unwanted government attention. “Paintball. Laser tag. They’re safer options for the club, and lucrative.”
Finlay’s face screwed up and he leaned forward. “Paintball? Laser tag? Grown men play that shite?”
“Millennials.” Liam stressed. “That’s where the money is. Throw in some Game of Thrones, Star Wars, Walking Dead themes, advertise on a few gaming platforms, and you’ll have a waiting list.” Fact is, he’d thought about doing something like that in a year or two when he had more capital, and land.
“Millennials,” Finlay spat. “God help me.” He downed his beer and slammed the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Yae interested. I can tell, so don’t bullshite me. I ain’t beggin’ if that’s yae plan, but I am askin’.”
And that was something. Finlay didn’t ask. He commanded. Yeah, he could tell Liam was interested, but Liam could tell Finlay was begging, in his own way. He wanted his son with him. Liam wanted the same.
“I’m interested, but there are conditions.”
Finlay’s craggy face broke into a grin. “Aren’t there always.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dating 101: Look presentable. Whatever that meant. Sabrina turned slowly in the mirror and scrutinized every square inch of her body. The deep blue denim jeans sat low on her hips and hugged her ass rather nicely. They were skinny, so the snug embrace went all the way to her ankles. She expected to look like a scarecrow in them, but she’d put on some weight in the last few weeks. She actually had a few curves. Even her boobs had gone up from an A cup to a B. The shirt was an off the shoulder number that showed the swell of her breasts in the push-up bra. A pair of wedges completed her new ensemble, all bought on clearance. The clothes weren’t the icing on the cake.
Sabrina ran her fingers through her new super short haircut. She lucked out on a sale at Supercuts in the mall. It was close to the same style she had years ago when she met Vincent. This time she skipped the blue dye and stuck with the asymmetric bob, chin length on the right and tapered to her earlobe on the left. She loved it and hoped Liam would feel the same. Not that she did it for him. The haircut and clothes were for her. Depending on his reaction, he would reap the benefits.
She’d already dropped Vivi off with Anna, who loved the new haircut, and the new outfit. She gushed about the transformation. To Sabrina, it wasn’t so much as a transformation as it was a return to normal. This was the person she lost when she got with Vincent. Tossed aside, now dusted off and cleaned up, this was the new improved Sabrina. Beware.
A laugh rippled from her throat and damn if it didn’t feel wonderful. She was happy with herself. The type of happy a person couldn’t contain. The type of happy that had nothing to do with a man.
The doorbell rang as she finished applying a light coat of lipstick. Burgundy, which complimented her dramatic eyes. Now was when the nerves attacked. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. A knock had her snatching up her purse and keys. She paused at the front door, hand on knob, heart in her throat, and opened the door.
“Trying to stand me— Whoa.” His eyes bugged out of his head as his gaze swept from her head to her feet and back up again. It was intimate, a sultry visual caress that had her smoldering. She needed a gallon of water and an electric fan to cool the fire in her blood.
He whistled low and backed her up against the foyer wall. “I like. I like a lot.” He pulled her into his body and let her feel his straining cock trapped behind his zipper. Instead of kissing her lips, he aimed for her neck, licked up the column, and whispered in her ear. “You did this for me?” He nibbled on the lobe and palmed her breasts.
She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel, feel him, the brush of his lips on her skin, his sharp teeth nipping her ear, his fingers tweaking her nipples through her bra and shirt. None of that stopped her from looking into his eyes and saying, “No. I did it for me.”
The sexiest smile curled his lips and her toes. “Damn straight you did. And not that you need my approval, but may I say how fucking proud of you I am?” He threaded his fingers into her hair, all the way to her scalp.
“Yes. Yes, you may.”
“I am proud of you. Extremely.” He kissed her and she was glad she’d chosen
smudge-proof lipstick. “Come on,” he said after they’d come up for air. “I’m going to take you to dinner, then somewhere fun, and maybe if you’re up for it, somewhere special.”
He took her hand and led her across the street. She thought they were headed for his truck, but he kept going into his garage until he stopped in front of his Harley. “It’s a—”
“1977 Super Glide. Pretty.” In pristine condition, the chrome was polished to a high sheen, she caught her reflection. The leather looked soft, just waiting for an ass.
Head cocked to the side, arms folded, he glared at her, his brow lowered. “How do you know?”
She folded her arms across her chest. It was too late to pretend stupidity. “I used to ride…a long time ago.”
“A Harley?”
Among others. Vincent had even bought her a bike, then refused to allow her to ride it. “Yeah.”
“Well then, you know this bike isn’t pretty,” he scolded and reached for his leather jacket hanging on a peg on the wall. He held it open for her to slip into.
She paused, her gaze trained on the bike. It had been a long time since she been on a bike and all that was associated with it. Yeah, there were some good memories, but the bad outweighed the good.
“Psst.”
Her gaze swung to him.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Liam isn’t Vincent. He’s not a Dragon. Give him a chance.
“Nothing.” She slipped her arms in his jacket and waited as he zipped it up. The leather swallowed her but all she had to do was dip her head into the collar to get a whiff of Liam. The jacket smelled exactly like him. So much so she got wet on the first inhale.
He rolled up the sleeves for her. “I’ll get you one of your own, but for now it will do.”
It will do, indeed.
He handed her a helmet off the shelf. Next, he swung his leg over the saddle and settled his fine ass on the seat. She shoved the helmet on her head, ruing the fact she chose today to get her hair done, and sat behind him. He snatched up his helmet dangling on the handlebars and covered his head.
Plain Jane and the Bad Boy (Plain Jane Series) Page 18