GRIT: A Spartan Riders Novel (5 page)

Gabby was so distracted by thoughts of Blake Mahone’s humiliation that she failed to see the dark figure looming over them until it was too late.

“What the fuck are we gossiping about over here, ladies?”

SIX

 

It was obvious by the serene look on Blake’s deceptively handsome face that he had skated beyond angry into straight-up murderous.

Gabby studied the firm press of his lips, the two deep lines carved between both furrowed brows, and the hard stare of those gray eyes not with fear, but interest.

Deep down, she knew she should already be halfway to her car, making a break for it while she still had legs—much like Cricket seemed to be wishing he could do now—but she was rooted in place, the vision of Blake’s formidable form holding her prisoner far better than any jail ever could.

Digging two heavy fists into the wooden picnic table’s top, he rested all his weight into those heavily muscled arms, round shoulders bunching around his ears. Sparing her no more than a dispassionate glance, he slid his focus to Cricket, who appeared ready to leap out of his skin or lose his lunch in equal measure.

“Cricket,” he growled, the single word demanding an answer. Immediately.

“Quick, err Blake, brother…” Cricket’s stuttering and flushed face made it perfectly clear how much he feared Blake Mahone. After several more attempts to speak, he sucked in a breath and let it out with a trembling sigh of resignation. “Brother, man, I fucked up. I know it. You know it. I never should have told her the damn story, but Moose said—”

“Stop fuckin’ talking,” Blake bit out, his tone a sharp lash that silenced his brother instantly. “All I asked was what you two were talking about, but considering you practically just shit your pants, I can guess.” Blake’s gaze lifted, meeting Gabby’s. “He tell you shit about me?”

“I asked where you got your nickname,” she confessed, her voice sturdy despite his unrelenting glower.

Cricket dropped his head, looking like a man resigned to his fate, while Blake looked…well, he was unreadable. Although Gabby suspected that was the same look he wore when he was doing some hardcore stewing.

Holding her gaze, he grunted. “Take a walk with me, teach.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to talk, and the people around here aren’t so good at keeping their traps shut.” He passed a meaningful look at his brother and, jabbing a thick finger at him, snapped, “Don’t go far.”

Funny how something so seemingly benign could be so threatening. As Gabby climbed from her seat, she caught Cricket’s pale face and gave him a sympathetic half-smile. “You look like you could use this more than me,” she said, sliding what was left of her beer across the table.

He took it with a grateful twist of his lips and guzzled it down like it was water.

Shaking her head, Gabby fell into step with Blake, who had already begun trudging across the lawn, waving off anyone who tried to speak to him. Menace rolled off him in waves, but for some strange reason she wasn’t afraid.

Once they reached the fence line, far enough away from the party to be seen but not heard, Blake leaned his thick frame back against the split rails and crossed his arms over his broad chest, making him appear double his size. Staring off over her head, he said, “Those cookies you brought were good. You make ‘em?”

Okay…not where she thought he was going with this, but she’d roll with it. “Uh, no. My mom baked them actually.” She was embarrassed to admit that she’d completely forgotten about bringing anything, but her mother—always a good hostess and guest—could always be counted on to come through in a pinch.

Blake grunted his response, then followed it up with, “That story is bullshit, by the way, and doesn’t represent who I am in any way.” His chin tipped up, indicating the direction of his thoughts was back on the conversation he’d pulled her away from.

“So it’s a lie?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I was fourteen, horny as hell, and it was my first time.”

The anger in his tone was palpable, but Gabby saw it for what it really was: a defense mechanism. “Look, Blake, you don’t have to explain anything to me. We all have something in our history that we’re not proud of. But for what it’s worth, I already figured that part out.”

His gaze finally met hers, still narrowed and filled with irritation, but slightly softer than before. “So have you had your fill?”

Gabby’s brows pinched together, puzzled by his meaning.

Seeing her confusion, he clarified. “Your perspective. Am I—us—still biker trash to you?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Gabby went to stand by his side and joined him in staring out over the people gathered there. She knew in the first five minutes of arriving what her answer would be, and it had only solidified since then. “For the record, I never thought or said that you were trash, but even so, I have to admit that coming here today has opened my eyes.”

“Elaborate.”

Arching a brow at his curt tone, Gabby turned to watching the children play, seeking out one in particular. When she found Ash sitting on top of the monkey bars, an island among himself, she experienced a little pang in her chest, his earlier words about her being his only friend rushing back to her.

“Everyone knows the stories.” In a town their size, it would be impossible to hide the kind of criminal activities that were rumored to be true surrounding these people. Just because local law enforcement had never been able to pin anything solid on them didn’t mean anything. They knew how to be slippery when they wanted to.

“That was the past.”

Spoken like a true outlaw, but Gabby also couldn’t ignore that, according to her parents’ accounts, crime had been down considerably in the last couple years, and the streets had been noticeably quiet. Since her return, she could attest to the fact that, if not for the occasional roar of motorcycles ripping through the streets, no one would know a motorcycle gang resided there.

“Is this the part where you tell me that you’ve reformed your bad boy ways and are now working on making an honest living like the rest of us?”

His head swiveled around, his hard gaze pinning hers. “Yes.”

A short, simple answer spoken in that rough, growl-like voice, but no less effective in its delivery. A shiver zipped through Gabby’s torso, awakening parts of her that had lain dormant for some time. What troubled her most wasn’t whether she believed him or not, but her willingness not to question it further. Breaking eye contact, she found Ash once again.

“I know it’s none of my business, but where is his mom?”

“You’re right, it’s not your business.”

His response was a slap in the face, but not entirely unexpected. Gabby grew quiet, accepting it for what it was. Sometimes, her curiosity got the better of her, and she tended to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. “Fair enough.”

In the distance, Ash dropped down from his perch and began swinging fluidly from one bar to the next, reaching the end and turning back to make another pass with impressive ease.

“She walked out on us.”

Surprised that he’d offered her anything at all, Gabby said, “I’m sorry.” Her gaze remained focused outward, unwilling to risk any movement for fear it would break their tremulous connection and Blake decided to close her out again. Already, she craved the gritty sound of his voice.

“It was months ago. Things had been bad for a long time. If she hadn’t pulled the plug, I would have. I worry about Ash though. He’s tough like his old man,” he said with a small, prideful smirk, “but he’s still just a kid, and I’m still learning how to be a father, never mind a mom.”

“A lot of kids come from broken homes,” Gabby informed him. “They don’t necessarily break because of it. Kids are resilient. And even though you may never be able to fill both roles, just the fact that you’ve stuck around to try is commendable. Plus, you get to be there for all the important stuff, which is pretty rewarding in itself.”

A wistful smile crossed Blake’s face. “Yesterday, Ash said he met the girl he’s going to marry.”

Gabby chuckled. “I bet it’s Marybeth. Those two have been inseparable during recess. What did you tell him?”

Something in the way Blake looked at her this time made her short of breath. “I told him carpe diem.”

Seize the day.

 

***

 

It was well after dark by the time Gabby started to feel the hour. A yawn ripped through her. There was something comforting about sitting in front of a roaring fire surrounded by idle chatter and having not a care in the world.

“I like your place,” she told Blake. After their talk, she’d allowed her filter to slip some. Blake wasn’t exactly an easy guy to get along with, but she could tell that he wasn’t all bad. Just a little rough around the edges. Especially when he let down his guard. He seemed to have lost his edge from earlier, having finally settled into a relaxed state of mind, and she was finding his company surprisingly nice.

She’d observed his interactions with his friends, seeing how he dealt smiles and laughed easily, offered advice to those who sought it, offered help to those who needed it, and in return, there was no mistaking that he had the respect of everyone there. He was a true leader.

What Gabby adored most, though, was his obvious devotion to Ash. No matter where he was or what he was doing, his gaze sought his son out regularly. The last time that happened was when Ash had found Gabby’s lap, showing her pictures he had drawn for her, and calling her by her first name. She’d caught Blake’s eye for the barest instant, and what she saw there warmed her blood.

She’d already become aware of her increasing interest in him, but now that Gabby had glimpsed his interest in her too, it was all she could think about. It was a persistent whisper in her mind, demanding her undivided attention.

Staring into the fire, watching the flames dance toward the sky and burning embers scatter to the wind, she found her innermost thoughts rolling from her tongue. “You’re not what I thought, Blake Mahone.”

His face tilted down and to the side, Blake slanted her a questioning look. “How’s that?”

Stretching her legs out, Gabby wiggled her bare toes, enjoying the ambient heat that warmed her soles. “You’re a pretty scary guy,” she started. “This is the first time you haven’t been all growly and mean.”

A low chuckle percolated in his chest. In his arms, Ash’s sleeping form shifted, nuzzling in closer to his father’s chest, his angelic face buried in the side of Blake’s neck. Wrapping his arms tighter around his back, Gabby watched Blake run his lips over Ash’s scraggly blond hair and thought she’d never seen a more perfect sight in her life.

She turned in the lawn chair to face him. “You know, you’re not as intimidating here either. I mean, you are intimidating, but it’s more…subdued.”

Running one of his large hands in practiced circles across Ash’s back, Blake considered this. “It’s a learned skill. My father taught me, and his father taught him. It’s a trait you need to be successful in this life.” His lips returned to his son’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “The only time I don’t need it is when I’m with him.”

“Kids are pretty great that way,” she agreed. “They see straight through the bullshit, so it’s better to leave it at the door.”

“Truer words…” Turning his head and pressing his cheek to the top of Ash’s head, he stared back at her. “You’re not what I thought either.”

Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, Gabby felt a kind of nervous anticipation at his words before handing them back to him. “Yeah, how’s that?”

His smirk grabbed the light reflecting from the fire. With only half his face lit, the other cast in deep shadows, he represented the battle between light and dark in her mind perfectly and wondered if it was an accurate representation of the man sitting before her.

“I thought you were an uptight priss with a stick shoved up her ass.”

Her face heated, and Gabby’s voice grew small. “And now?”

“I still think you have a stick shoved up your ass, but I’m sure with some special attention, we can get it out.”

The burning in her cheeks intensified, and Gabby yanked her gaze from his, staring into the flames of the bonfire instead. She found herself wondering just how he planned to help her get that stick out, because there was no doubt that one existed. Just like him, she couldn’t help the way she’d been raised or how her past had shaped her. But she wouldn’t mind learning new ways to be…and Blake seemed just the person to teach her.

“You’re good with Ash,” Blake said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much he needed a woman in his life until today.”

“He’s an easy kid to like.” She’d thought he’d be a problem when she first met him. It surprised her that Ash turned out to be the best behaved kid in her class. In the week she’d known him, they’d grown close.

“He likes you too.”

She smiled, pleased to hear it.

“I appreciate you looking after him when…”

“When you’re late?” she finished for him.

His head jerked once.

“I’d like to say I’m happy to do it, but honestly? It pisses me off when you’re not there.”

“Because you’ve got other things you’d rather be doing?”

“Because he deserves better.”

Their gazes clashed, held. In the span of a few seconds, they assessed one another. Gabby decided she might be able to forgive Blake Mahone his tardiness if he kept looking at her like that—as if he wanted nothing more than to grab her from her chair and kiss her senseless.

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