Loving Me, Trusting You (12 page)

“Shit.” I stuff myself back into my pants and grimace as I turn to find Mireya and Christy standing just outside the door. Mireya has her arms folded across her chest and a bemused smirk on her face. Christy, well … shit, the girl just looks freakin' terrified.

“Don't you know how to knock?” I ask her as my worst nightmares are confirmed and Beck slides into view. Soon as he sees what's going on, he starts to laugh again.
Can't a guy get a freaking break around here?
Mireya rolls her eyes and gestures at my mess.

“Clean it up, cowboy. The girl here has to piss.” She starts to move away, leaving me in a bit of an awkward position. “Amy will be along in just a minute. Austin and Kimmi have some shit to work out, so we're babysitting.” She walks away with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. I think I hear her mumble
Madre Mia
under breath, but who knows.

“Sorry there, babe,” I tell the frightened girl who just shakes her blonde head and steps away, floral dress drifting like smoke behind her. I can't imagine I'm helping the poor thing any. Being a part of an MC is a far cry from being a sheltered Southern belle. And then to have to deal with Bested and being tossed on the back of Beck's bike afterwards? She's got to be in shock. “Dude, lay off,” I growl at my friend as he proceeds to switch on the charm and hit on the poor girl. I saw her flirting with him at the bar that first night in Wilkes, but I have a feeling she's not really into him.

“Dude?” Beck asks me, giving me a single raised eyebrow. I keep my glare locked on his face while I clean up and drop one of the white towels into the trash can. Don't know where else to put it. He rolls his eyes at me and ends up mumbling curse words as he pushes open the door and tips an imaginary hat at Amy Cross. Austin's standing behind her with Kimmi at his side, watching carefully. I imagine him to be sort of like a lion or something, watching over his pride. Anyway, that's how I feel when he looks at Amy.

“Everything alright in here?” he asks when he sees Christy's face. Tears are building behind her eyes, but she smiles anyway, nodding her head and holding out her hand for Amy who takes it and gives her friend a gentle hug.

“Everything's just fine there, Pres,” Mireya says, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She watches the two girls embrace and something flickers behind her eyes. I wonder if she misses that kind of intimacy, if she wishes she had more friends. Mireya and women have never particularly gone hand in hand. I don't know the last time I saw her have a pleasant conversation with someone of the same sex. “And it'd be even better if you told us what the hell was going on.” Austin nods his head and swipes his hand through his blonde hair. He's overwhelmed, that's alright. I get it. I watch him carefully for a moment and decide to speak up. Didn't get my chance on the intercom, thank you very much, Mireya Sawyer.

“Sparks, I think you should talk to Diamond.” I get three sets of glares leveled on me from Austin, Kimmi, and Mireya. I hold up my hands to keep the peace, letting them know I'm not trying to start shit. “Listen to me first and then shoot me after if you don't like what I have to say.” I drop my hands and move out of the bathroom to sit on the edge of the bed. Austin and Kimmi exchange a look and move inside, closing the door behind them. “Melissa knows most – if not all – of the shit that Kent was up to. She knows how he kept things running so smoothly. Now, I know you and Kimmi have been our breadwinners for fuck knows how long, but it's going to take more than that to sail this ship, especially with all of the crap that's going down. People are okay now, but what happens if they think you can't control the group? That you can't keep things the way Kent did. They'll get antsy and things will get weird. Think about it. Melissa Diamond is a train wreck, but she's probably our best hope of managing this without a hitch.”

Austin stares at me for a moment with a blank expression and then breaks out into a grin.

“Now, tell me this,” he says, lifting his head up a bit to glance at Amy. She smiles back at him, and Mireya rolls her eyes again. “Why did it take a damn infant to bring that shit up? Don't know why I didn't think of it.” He slaps me on the back and it's my turn to roll my eyes.

“Fucking geezer,” I mumble at him as he watches Kimmi check out our newcomer. She looks pleased with what she sees. Now, I don't know if Christy swings that way or not, but Kimmi Reynolds has been known to turn a few heads that wouldn't otherwise look her way, if you catch my drift. “Now go rob a bank or some shit. That's your specialty, ain't it?” Austin laughs, and Kimmi flicks me in the nose with her long nails.

“Glad you guys are so chill with this,” she says, dangly earring swinging as she turns her head from me and focuses back on Christy. A double take. This doesn't bode well for Kimmi's current girlfriend, Margot. Poor thing. Looks like our female casanova is ready to move on. Wonder if she knows the girl's a virgin? I can practically smell her innocence from here. Christy is not like Amy, a facade of politeness wrapped around an animal. Nope. If their positions had been switched, Mireya might still be holding Austin in her grip.

I shiver and try not to think about Mireya's grip. God. My cock starts to stiffen anyway, and I drop my hands to my lap to try and cover it.

“Ain't gonna be any bank robbing going on tonight, but if we're doing Fort Walton, our plans have got to be solid. You don't mind if we step out together for awhile?” I start to shake my head, and then pause to look over at Mireya.

“You don't want any help?” she asks, and I notice that her voice softens just a bit. God, what I would give to have her look at me like that. Austin shakes his head.

“Much as I appreciate the offer, sugar, Kimmi and I have been a two-horse team for as long as I can remember. When Kent tried to get Melissa involved, it didn't exactly go over well. I'm going to say that we'll stick to what works.” He pauses and the two of them share a strange stare over my head, communicating without words. Old friends can do that, you know. It's pretty fucking special. “You'll stay here and watch the group for me though?” Mireya smiles, but it's tight-lipped, nodding her head reluctantly.

“Yeah, sure, Pres. Whatever the fuck you want.”

Austin takes a step forward like he wants to go to Amy and then pauses. Out of respect for Mireya, I watch him pull himself in, drop us a salute and leave the room with Kimmi practically drooling behind him. Thing is, I think I see Christy returning the stare. Hmm.

“I want to take a moment to thank you both,” Amy says, turning to look at us with a gentle smile. “The way you handled yourselves in that bar was admirable.” She pauses and her blue eyes lock onto Mireya's brown ones. “Especially you. I know we haven't had the best of of beginnings, but my mother always used to say that the best things are worth working for. I think we could work at being friends, don't you?” Mireya stares at her for a moment and then lights up her cigarette, shrugging like she doesn't give a shit. But I think she does. I really, really do.

“I'm going to take this outside,” she says, raising her smoke up with two fingers and moving past the girls and out onto the patio. I follow after, wanting to give the two friends a chance to catch up. And well, maybe because I'm still a little bit off after having Christy catch me whackin' it.

“Go away, Gaine,” she says before I can even close the sliding glass door behind me. I watch as she leans over the railing and sticks her leather clad ass out like she has no clue how friggin' hot she is. I know she does though. I've seen Mireya Sawyer flaunt it like a fucking peacock. She knows the body she has and the power she's got over men. I stare at her ass for a moment and step up beside her.

“Are you pissed at me?” I ask her, and she groans, dropping her head down and letting her cigarette dangle, ashes trailing off into the warm wind. The town below us stretches out, sleepy and quiet, fading into the sultry evening like a fairytale. I swear, sometimes I think these little Southern towns are in a universe of their own making, one where the hustle and bustle and bullshit doesn't reach. It feels so peaceful here.

“What for, Gaine?” she asks, and I don't really know what to say. I guess it just feels like she's angry with me all the time. I wish she'd let go a little bit. I wonder if Amy Cross could help her out with that? I think that girl just learned how to lose herself. It's a valuable skill, one that I think Mireya would benefit from. As stupid as I feel taking Beck's advice, I keep his words in mind and try not to pester her. Whining and bitching and moping around isn't going to endear any woman to me, especially not one that's tough as nails like Mireya.

“I dunno. Just thought that bike trick of yours was a little cruel. Sweet Jesus. And you wonder why I was jacking off in the bathroom?” She laughs this time, just a cruel, little chuckle, but at least it's something.

“I didn't wonder why, Gaine. I knew.” She takes a drag and passes her cig to me. I look at it for a minute and accept it, sliding the stick between my lips with a smile. “But I had to teach you a lesson. And thank you. It was complicated.” She sighs and spins around, leaning back over the railing so that her hair catches in the breeze and sways, a silken cloud of darkness that makes me wet my lips and shift uncomfortably. Mireya lets her eyes close and takes in a deep breath.

My gaze falls to her chest, to the rise and fall of her breasts, the line of dark cleavage. I shiver and feel myself responding to the sight.
Christ, Gaine, you shootin' for a marathon run today?
I keep myself angled forward, so Mireya can't see. I don't want her to think that all I'm thinking about is fucking. Far from it. If anything, I'd like to be the one to help redeem Mireya's soul. I hold my hand out and focus on my fingers, curling them in towards my palm. If I get the chance, I'm going to spare her anymore blood on her hands, even if she hates me for it.

I lick my dry lips and lean my elbows on the railing, letting the cigarette dangle from my mouth. Now that I've banned myself from bitching and nagging Mireya, I don't exactly know what to say.

“You got any ideas on how to deal with these girls for the evening?” I ask, trying to smile. The smoke falls from my mouth and tumbles end over end to the sizzling pavement below. I watch it go with a sigh. “I mean, Amy's had it pretty easy since she got here. Maybe a little hazing would be in order?” I look over at Mireya who's cracked an eye to look at me. Even half-lidded, her gaze is powerful, cutting through my chest and stabbing me straight into the heart.

“Can I break Amy's face in half?” she asks, but then she smiles and my heart flip-flops. I feel like a fucking tool when I'm around her, getting all these lame ass fluttery feelings and shit. I'm into the fairytale crap, but I'd rather not be the princess. Still, for Mireya, I might be able to make an exception. My smile turns into a grin.

“I think you already tried that, babe, and it didn't exactly go over all that well.” For a second, Mireya's still and silent, and I'm pretty damn sure I've fucked up this quiet moment of in-between, but then she grins and stretches with a groan.

“Fucking bitch fights hard.” She stands up and slips her leather jacket off her shoulders, revealing the sleeveless whatever-it-is that she's got on underneath. Looks like lingerie, but that's alright with me. I don't mind a good look-see. “For a little pussy cat that is.” She puckers her red lips at me and tosses a wink, sliding open the door and then using her hip to push it the rest of the way. I don't miss the way her leather pants hug her curves and kiss her ass, rolling my eyes to the sky and praying for somebody or something to help my dick out a little. Poor fucker's had enough trauma today.

“Get your bitch asses dressed,” she barks at them, sizing up the two skinny pale girls. Christy jumps, but Amy doesn't flinch. Actually, she smiles. “We're going out to buy a bike.”

Evening is peeking its sultry head out of the sky and getting ready to swallow the day. There's less than an hour before the dealership closes, but I say fuck it. If you give off the right attitude, people will bend over backwards for you.

When we walk into the glass doors and move across the linoleum floor, we get some looks. This isn't exactly our sort of place. I doubt any of these fuckin' people have actually ever seen a real biker before. This fine establishment is probably here to service the local balding male population, middle aged men looking for a way out of their midlife crisis without buying a convertible.

My nose wrinkles right away. This isn't exactly my scene. These are pre-built bikes from the manufacturer, name brands that'll never live up to the road the way I want them to. I already miss my Bonneville.

Gaine walks beside me, watching my face, smirking just a bit. He knows how this outing is going to go.

“Don't say a word,” I growl at him, thinking about riding on the back of his bike, knowing that I will do anything to get off of it. And it's not because of Gaine, it's out of principle. Being up against men who think women shouldn't ride makes me want to ride that much more. I want to grind that pavement and destroy the road. I want them to see me coming from across the state, gunning for it. I want to destroy perceptions and prejudices and grind them into dust. I'm going to have a hard time doing it with a make-a-million Tinkertoy, but there it is. I'm going to have to let my riding speak for itself.