HONEY FOR NOTHIN' Read online

  “Right.” He nodded to her. “Yeah, Kit was here for a few days, helpin’ Lindi out.”

  Lindi was busing the cyclists’ table, and watching him with big eyes. Worried, but letting him take the lead, thank fuck.

  “But she ain’t here now?” Bouncer swiveled in the booth to scowl up at Jack. He had mustard smeared on his mustache, about which Jack was not gonna enlighten him. He respected Bouncer as a tough man in a fight, but he didn’t like him much, and he sure as hell could not see Lindi’s best girl with him.

  Jack scratched his jaw. “Nope. Kit’s a little ... flighty, y’know? I’m surprised we got three days out of her. Where’d she say she was headed, baby?”

  “To stay at some woman’s place.” Lindi scrubbed her table vigorously. “Marla ... no, Marquita, that’s right.”

  One thing Jack already knew about his woman, she did not like to lie, which was a good thing, ‘cause she was lousy at it. He’d expected her to shrug and say she didn’t know where Kit had gone, not take the throttle and ride some story about a mythical friend of Kit’s.

  “You sure about that?” Bouncer demanded, glowering at her over his shoulder. “Maybe I better have me a look round the back of this place.”

  “Marquita.” Deni repeated. “I did hear my girl talk about a Marquita once. Now who was that?”

  Lindi straightened like she’d been goosed. She set her hand on her hip, and glared at Bouncer. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  The air in the café went dark and ugly. Bouncer stiffened, and set his hands on the table to push upright, rattling the dishes and knocking over his glass, luckily empty.

  Jack rose, side-stepping between the biker and Lindi.

  “You don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” Bouncer grated. On his feet, he glared past Jack at her.

  “She’s new in the life, Bounce,” Jack said, his voice even though he was tensed to spring, should the biker try to bull past him. And Jack would not put it past the other man. “Ease up, brother.”

  “Don’t tell me to ease up, Moran.” Bouncer stabbed a finger at Lindi. “Your bitch needs to learn her place. You don’t teach it to her, I will.”

  The fuck he would. Jack’s entire body tightened, and he readied himself to take the obnoxious fuck-wad down.

  Stick’s huge hand hit the table top like a thunderclap. “Bouncer. Stand down.”

  The biker glared at Lindi and then Jack. Then he sneered. “I don’t need your help anyways—I’ll find that kitty-cat, and bring her to heel on my own.”

  He slapped his hand on the front door and shoved it open, so hard the glass shuddered. “Your food tastes like shit, too.”

  Then he was gone, striding out into the cloudy afternoon.

  Jack kept his eyes on Stick, who was watching Lindi. The tall biker lifted his chin to her. “You’re loyal, I like that. You don’t want your friend in the life. Why?”

  Lindi was pale now, but she kept her chin up. “I have no problems with the life. My problem is Kit doesn’t want to be with him. And she gets to choose, not her mother.” The way she said this left little doubt what she thought of Deni’s skills at parenting.

  “You listen here, missy,” Deni protested.

  “Quiet,” Stick ordered without turning his head. Her eyes big, Deni subsided in her seat.

  “Bullet, I need a private word with Jack,” Stick went on.

  “Sure thing.” The hound-faced biker laid a bill on the table and walked out, with a nod to Jack and Lindi. “Thanks,” he said. “Damn good burger.”

  “I’ll be right out, Bullet,” Deni called after him. “I’m her mom, so I should stay.”

  Stick didn’t argue this. But he looked to Jack, and raised his brows. “Bitches complicate life. You sure you want to take one on full time?”

  Jack laughed. “You got a point there, Stick. But yeah, mine’s worth the trouble ... most of the time.”

  Lindi huffed at this. Stick chuckled soundlessly, but then sobered as he pulled out his wallet, chained to his back pocket. He pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill and laid it on the table, then looked to Lindi again.

  “You tell your friend I don’t babysit my men. She doesn’t wanna be with Bouncer, she has to figure out how to make that happen. He’s a proud man.”

  More like he was an arrogant jackass, but Jack wasn’t gonna argue the point. He held out his arm, and Lindi came to him, snuggling close to his side, with her be-ringed hand on his chest. She nodded to Stick. “Okay. Um, thanks.”

  Jack held out his hand. “Yeah, thanks, Stick. Come back anytime—maybe bring a prettier date next time.”

  Stick gripped his hand. “The day I take a woman anywhere but onto her knees, you’ll know the world has fucking shifted on its axis. But I’ll be back. The food is good, the scenery too.”

  He winked at Lindi again, and walked out.

  Deni stopped in front of Jack and Lindi to give him a flirtatious smile as automatic as a reflex, and then narrowed her heavily made up eyes at Lindi.

  “Marquita,” she repeated. “Really? You’re sayin’ my daughter went to stay with a dead woman?”

  Lindi held up her hand, palm out. “Denise, for the love of God. You want to do something good for Kit? Forget you ever heard the name Marquita.” She leaned forward. “Do you really want your sweet baby girl with that man?”

  She stabbed her finger out the window at Bouncer, who had his fly open and was occupied pissing in Lindi’s thankfully empty parking lot. Stick was thumbing his phone, Bullet sitting his bike and looking out at the lake.

  Deni looked out at them, then pouted at Jack. “I’m just trying to set her up. A woman’s gotta have a man to look after her.” In her world, this was sure as hell true. Too bad she hadn’t chosen a good one to sic on her daughter.

  Lindi snorted. “Yeah, a good man. I bet Bouncer got his road name bouncing women, all right—off his fists. I just met him and I can tell he’s an asshole.”

  Deni bridled. “A man’s gotta be tough to hold his own in the life.”

  Jack was done. “Deni,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Kit will find a good man on her own—she’s pretty and smart and funny as hell. Now you gotta help from your end. Give up tryin’ to put her on the back of Bouncer’s bike. She doesn’t want to be there. She wants to be free and safe. You gonna take that away from her?”

  Deni frowned, then touched her hair as if it would help her think. “I want my baby girl to have a good life. And who can give that to her like a man with influence in the club?”

  “How about a man who don’t drink himself crazy and knock her around?” Jack asked.

  Her face flushing under her makeup, Deni looked away. “Bouncer ain’t like that ... least, not as bad as Jink.”

  Jack shook his head. “Deni, I’ve seen Bounce in action. And there’s no way in hell Lindi or me or Remi are giving up Kit’s location to him. You do, and I’ll tell you one thing—you won’t be welcome around here again.”

  “And you’ll lose Kit’s trust and her love,” Lindi added. “Is that what you want?”

  Deni’s lip trembled. “Of course not. How can you say that to me? I been a good mom.”

  “Yeah, you have,” Jack agreed, impatiently. “So go on bein’ that. Keep her safe.”

  Harley’s rumbled to life outside. Deni moved, shuffling in place, then backing toward the door, sniffling. “Oh, poo. I gotta go, or I won’t have a ride. You tell Kit to call me. I need to talk to her.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Lindi promised.

  The woman dithered another second, then rushed out and hopped up behind Bullet. Soon the bikes rumbled away.

  “Well,” Jack muttered into the quiet. “That was loads of fun.”

  Lindi turned into him, planting her face in his chest with a moan. “What a mess. Poor Kit.”

  “Yeah.” He grasped a handful of her thick, silky ponytail and pulled her head back, scowling down at her. “Now you wanna tell me why you did something as fuckin’ stupid as challenging Boun
cer, of all men? What the hell were you thinkin’, woman?”

  She frowned back. “I was thinking that Deni was just about to open her fat mouth and blurt out who Marquita is—or was.”

  Jack raised his brows. “Say what?”

  “She was Dave and Darrell’s mom,” Lindi told him. “So, when I said Kit’s staying at Marquita’s place, technically it’s true. Keys’ place used to be her place. It’s just that she’s been dead for twenty years.”

  Jack shook his head, amusement quelling his anger. “So you figured out how not to lie. Very creative.”

  “Well, except I could see when Deni remembered who she was, and was about to blurt it out. How Kit sprang from that woman’s womb, I do not know. Kit can do scary math problems in her head, but Deni can’t even remember to keep money to buy food and necessities. Kit’s dad must’ve been the smart one.”

  She looked up at Jack, her gaze turbulent. “And she screwed up my marriage proposal. If she hadn’t dragged those scary bikers over here, you would have done it somewhere romantic.”

  He smirked. “I could take back the ring and give you a do-over some other time,” he told her.

  She curled her fingers tightly into a fist. “Nuh-uh. You’re not getting my beautiful ring back, mister.”

  Jack really liked the way she looked at his ring. He was glad she liked it, ‘cause it had cost him a chunk of change. Seeing it on her finger made every penny worthwhile. “Guess you’ll just have to be satisfied with my proposal, then. I thought it was pretty damn good on the spur of the moment.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she agreed, gazing at her ring as he let her go.

  Although he’d rather take her into her office and show his appreciation of that soft, happy look in a very basic way, another vehicle was pulling into the lot.

  He gave her round ass a last pat. “Heads up, queen bee. You got another batch of customers coming in. I’ll be out back—gonna call Keys, make sure he’s got Kit settled.”

  “Come and share as soon as you’re done, okay?” she called after him as he strode back through the café.

  “I will.”

  Oh, he’d share with her all right. He’d share everything that he was, ‘cause she was his. And if she came with the aggravation of a flighty friend, he’d take that too. After all, he came with a club full of testosterone-laden bikers with shitty restaurant manners. And some had even worse manners with women.

  Chapter Five

  Kit gazed around the interior of Keys’ shop in fascination. She’d never spent much time around automotive shops of any kind, but the few she’d seen had been grimy and cluttered. Not this one. Every inch of the place was as tidy and organized as a doctor’s office. The walls were bright white, the floor gray painted concrete, all gleaming with care.

  The shop was essentially a two-story garage, with a high, open ceiling and stairs leading up to an enclosed room in one upper back corner, and a catwalk around the shop interior. Rolling toolboxes and various other parts and equipment lined the walls. The sanded body of a vintage pickup sat on sawhorses in one corner.

  The main floor held two vehicle bays, with steel frames to hold the vehicle and a rectangular hole in the cement below, with a ladder to climb down. One of the bays was empty, but the other held an older Chevy Blazer, painted metallic silver with red ghost flames on the hood and front side panels.

  Keys indicated it with a wave of his arm. “My first project. Going up for auction at the classic car show in July. Proceeds are going to the local Union Gospel Mission.”

  Kit moved closer to stroke her fingertips over one of the flames. The paint was cool and slick. “Wow, that’s really special.”

  He tipped his head to acknowledge the compliment, but added, “Darrell Gaspard used this rig to stalk Lindi. Seemed like the thing to do, use an abusive stalker asshole’s ride to help women with no choices.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, he would’ve hated that, right? That makes it even better.”

  She smoothed her fingers farther along the panel, her eyes on the curve of the door panel. “My mom and I spent a few nights in shelters when she was, uh, between men.”

  “That must’ve been some scary shit,” he said, moving closer with such easy grace Kit had no time to be self-conscious.

  She nodded, watching her fingers trace another flame. “It was. Looking back, she was scared too. But then she’d meet the next biker, and off we’d go with her on the back of his bike and me in a car with one of the ‘friends of the club’.’

  ‘Now, here I am, seeking shelter again ... in an auto restoration shop.” She shot him a glance through her lashes. “Maybe you could do some work on me. Tune me up so I’m ready to take on the world—once I figure out how the hell I wanna do that.”

  He dipped his chin, giving her an assessing look. “Red, I reckon you can take on anything you want, and triumph. You just gotta decide what that is, and go after it. When you do, look out, world—’specially the male half.”

  She grinned at his last words, but her heart also lost some of the weight that always seemed to press on it. “You think so?”

  Lindi and Sara were always telling her she was smart and able, but they were her best friends, so of course they’d say that. Keys was a guy who’d been around, and seen a lot. And if all he wanted was to get into her cutoffs, he would’ve just told her she was pretty, like other guys on the make.

  “I do think so. Long as you use better judgment than your mama.”

  Kit rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I plan to.”

  He nodded, as if he’d decided to believe her, and a slow smile lit his gaze. Kit felt herself tilting toward him as if she was racing downhill, gaining momentum but not wanting to slow down. She yearned to just fall into those blue eyes and see what happened. See if some of his easy confidence would wear off on her.

  A guitar riff cut through the air between them like a knife. Keys’ dark brows drew together as he pulled a phone from his pocket.

  “This’ll be Jack.” He put the phone to his ear. “Yo, how’s it going down there?”

  Kit stepped back. Well, crap. He’d been about to kiss her again, she’d felt it. And she wanted him to. That and more. No better way to take her mind off the situation she was in than some fast sex with one of the hottest men she’d ever met.

  “Yeah,” Keys said, his gaze on her. “Yeah, she’s here. We’re in the shop, door’s locked. Came up through the woods, so no way anyone had eyes on us.”

  He listened again. “You got a phone?” he asked Kit.

  She shook her head, shame niggling at her. Everyone and their ten-year-old had a phone these days, but she couldn’t afford one, not working the part-time gigs she managed in Airway Heights. Speaking of which, she’d forgotten to call the Flying Bean coffee shop and tell them she wouldn’t be in. There went that job and the possibilities of any references.

  “Tell Lindi to call my phone,” Keys said. He listened some more, grunting once in a while. “Right. Later.”

  He slid his phone back in his pocket. “Lindi will call when they close the café. We gotta get you a phone. I’ll take you into town tomorrow.”

  “What? Why?” she asked.

  “ ‘Cause how else am I gonna keep track of you, Red?” He reached up and pushed back the lock of hair that always fell over her right eye, his fingers lingering on the shell of her ear. The warm touch sent a shiver through her--which of course he noticed. His mouth quirked up. “This is a big shop. If I’m in the back and you’re upstairs, I might want to com-mun-icate.”

  She braced her hands on his chest, the leather of his vest warm and slick under her fingers. “Really? And you can’t just yell, ‘Hey Kit. Bring me a beer, yo’.”

  His lips twitched. “‘Yo’? I wouldn’t say that to you, Red. I’d say ‘Bring me a beer, beautiful.’“ His hand moved, curving around the back of her neck, under her hair and pulling her closer to him, into the warm, thrilling shelter of his hard body. “Or I might say ‘Hey, Kit Weeks, bring me another one
of those kisses that make me hard as a piston rod.”

  His other hand slid over her back, and he eased her closer still, her breasts pillowed on his hard chest, her lower body tight against his. Kit was only vaguely familiar with piston rods, but he was definitely hard. A long, thick shape pressed against her mons, through layers of soft denim. In answer, her mind fogged and her body clenched and loosened, heat blooming between her thighs, her nipples tightening.

  “I’m right here now,” she breathed. Then she inhaled, and that was so much better. He’d showered before she got here, and he smelled of clean man and faint herbal shampoo. Probably a lot better than her.

  “That’s good, Red. ‘Cause I’m gonna kiss the fuck outta you.”

  “Give it your best shot,” she invited, and then shut up because he did, and it was even better than she remembered. And now there was the added bonus of knowing he’d realized she wasn’t a fluff-brained old lady-wannabe who’d chosen the wrong biker to tease, but had instead been pulled into the middle by her mom and Bouncer.

  Keys’ lips were warm, tender and lazy, molding to hers and learning each angle and level of pressure before urging her mouth open so he could taste her. He coaxed her tongue to play with his, and then gave her his.

  Long moments later, Kit was pressed between him and the Blazer, exactly where she wanted to be. Her hoodie lay discarded on the hood of the SUV behind her, along with her cowgirl shirt. One hand cupping her ass, the other braced on the SUV behind her, Keys was rocking into her, his cock rubbing right there against her swollen clit, her cutoffs damp with her arousal while he ate at her mouth.

  “Fuck, you feel as good as you taste,” he muttered against her mouth. “Soft and strong and sweet.”

  His strong, working-man’s hand cupped her breast like they were the best thing he’d ever touched, fondling her and scraping his thumb over her nipple in a way that sent a jolt of pleasure through her. A whimper of pleasure worked its way up in her throat.

  “You like that. You’ll like this even more.” He found the hem of her thin tank and tugged it up, urging her arms up over her head so he could pull it off, careful not to catch her face. He tossed it onto the hood of the vehicle behind her, his eyes on her breasts. “God damn, these are pretty. And what’s this?”