HONEY FOR NOTHIN' Read online

  She felt Keys’ warmth behind her back as he moved close. He didn’t grab her or loom, just stood close, his arm braced on the window frame.

  “Building crews comin’ tomorrow morning,” he said. “I could use someone to do a burger and Coke run at lunch. I wanna be here to supervise. Can you help me out with that?”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “What if the Flyers—or at least, Bouncer comes back?”

  “You can go incognito,” he suggested with a grin. “Put this gorgeous red hair under a cap, wear some sunglasses and a baggy jacket—and hide these legs, ‘cause they’re a dead giveaway.”

  “My legs?” she echoed. She peered down at herself. They were just long, pale legs.

  Keys chuckled, that deep, lazy sound in his throat she liked so much. Then, when she didn’t smile back, he sobered and gave her an odd, penetrating look. “Fuck me, she means it.”

  “Mean what?” She turned on him, her shoulder and hip brushing against him, since he did not step back.

  He shook his head, looking into her face. “Any other woman, I’d think you were fishin’. But you ... you don’t get it, do you? Why Bouncer’s so fuckin’ hot to get you he’ll risk hauling you across a state line on the back of his bike. And why a man like me will do what it takes to keep you safe and free from fear.”

  Kit forgot to breathe. She searched his blue eyes and his hard face. Slowly, she shook her head,

  “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, moving in. He wrapped his hand around her neck, warm and strong, and smiled down at her. “Well, you just hang on for the ride, Red, and maybe you’ll figure it out.”

  Her face burned again, which after what they’d just done, was just weird. She should be past blushing about anything.

  Except this weird intensity in his gaze, as if she were the most fascinating creature he’d encountered in some time ... it just made her at once self-conscious and so giddy she wanted to fling herself into his arms and never let go.

  Then he kissed her again and Kit decided to wonder later about his cryptic words. Oh, she loved kissing him. He moved on in and took what he wanted, and made sure a woman enjoyed it as he did so. In a moment, she was holding on to him, her hands hooked in the loose armholes of his vest behind his shoulders as she pressed herself into him, luxuriating in the feel of hard, virile male against her softness, his bulges filling her hollows.

  When he drew back, she whined in protest—embarrassing, but true—and dragged her eyes open. “Don’t stop.”

  He shook his head once, regret clear on his face. “Red, hate like fuck to back off, but we need to get you in for blood tests before we do any more exchanging of bodily fluids.”

  Kit froze, her heated fog of arousal popping like a bubble. She let go of him, and moved back, banging the back of her shoulder against the window frame. It hurt, but not as much as his frank words. “Um ... right.”

  “Hey, babe,” he soothed, tipping his head to peer into her face. “I’m not laying that on you like blame. But I know you’ve been livin’ loose, livin’ hard, takin’ comfort where you could find it. We just gotta make sure—”

  “Says the biker man who just fucked his way across the west,” she hissed, shoving at him.

  He rocked back on one foot, and though she knew it was more that he’d let her push him than anything, the small victory helped dispel the lump of embarrassment lodged in her chest.

  His brows flew up. “Don’t know where you got that idea.”

  “From your daily gossip reports with your bro Jack, that’s where.”

  She hurried toward the door, dodging the mattress, intent only on getting away from him. “You know, you can take your offer—all of ‘em, and shove them. I’m going back down the mountain to take my chances.”

  “The hell you are.” Her arm was seized in an iron grip, and she found herself pulled around to face him, his face hard, brows lowered in a fearsome frown. “You’re not runnin’ straight back into danger because you’re in a snit, Red.”

  “A snit?” she repeated incredulously. “I do not have ‘snits’, you jack-ass. I get mad! And people who get in my way regret it.”

  Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have flung her free hand up in air quotes when she said ‘snit’. But he definitely shouldn’t have laughed.

  She used his tight grasp on her arm as a lever, and shot up her knee straight for his balls.

  Unfortunately, he was faster than her, even while laughing. He fended off her knee with a twist of his hard thigh, then grabbed her behind her upraised knee and pulled her leg even higher, so she hung on one foot, off-balance in his grasp. Dependent on his good will to keep from falling on her ass on the floor

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You try that again, and I’ll turn you over my knee and spank your ass until it matches your hair. You get me?”

  She huffed, and then had to grab onto him for balance. “I get you, you big biker bully.”

  He gave her a look. “Really? It’s okay for you to try and emasculate me, but not all right for me to grab you? Seems unfair to me.”

  “Like it’s all right for you to call me a slut, when you’re a—a man-whore.”

  His chin went back, and he raised his brows. “You kiss your mama with that mouth, Miss Kitty?”

  She smacked his chest, hard enough her palm stung. “You ever call me that again and I will mask-olate you or whatever.” She didn’t remember big words, not like Lindi, who would know not only what that word meant but how to spell it.

  His mouth twitched. “Then I s’pose role play is out, like where I get to be Marshal Dillon.”

  She rolled her eyes, which made him laugh again.

  He squeezed her leg, and let it go. “And for the record, I was not callin’ you a slut. So settle, yeah?”

  “Sure, big guy,” she said in a breathy voice. “Tell you what, we’ll go down to the clinic and have his’n’hers blood tests, ‘kay? It’ll be so fun.”

  He sighed, and let go of her. “Uh-huh.”

  Kit stepped away from him, nearly stumbling on the mattress. Landing on her ass on his bed now would just be hella embarrassing. The mood was gone. And it could stay gone—she was not having any more sexy-times with a hypocrite, even one as gorgeous as him.

  Maybe Remi would let her stay with him until this whole thing with Bouncer blew over. She wouldn’t mind snuggling in his hotel bed. Except that damnit, Keys was right. She should have blood tests before she got with Remi, too. The thought of sharing anything ugly with him made her tummy roll.

  She might be a slut, but she wasn’t that careless.

  “I’m gonna get some work done,” Keys told her from the doorway. “Make yourself at home—fridge is downstairs by the bathroom, there’s beer, pop, leftover takeout in there, snacks and shit in the cupboard.”

  The urge to ask if he had a computer she could use trembled on her tongue, but Kit bit it back. She wasn’t asking him for anything else.

  He raised his brows, then when she said nothing, his look turned cool again. “Right. Stay inside, out of sight.”

  His footsteps thumped away, down the stairs.

  Kit stuck her tongue out at the empty doorway. Childish? Yeah, so what. She felt childish right now—filled with an all-too-familiar sense that life was roaring past all around her, out of her control, with other people pushing her this way and that.

  Well she was still the boss of her, and as soon as he got into his work, she was out of here. That choice she could make.

  The rhythmic sound of soft scraping greeted her when she walked down the stairs. Keys was working on the old truck body, sanding the nose with a chunk of something in his hands. He had his back to her, so Kit used the opportunity to explore.

  There was a small kitchen area in one corner in the back, with a refrigerator, table and two chairs and cupboards. She was surprised to find the bathroom big, clean and tidy. Toilet paper, paper towels and cleaning supplies were stacked along one wall, the toilet, a big cupboard with a sink
on another, and a glassed-in shower in one corner.

  The decor consisted of burgundy towels hanging on a rack by the shower, and a large poster of a blonde draped over a Harley. She wore a black leather thong and a come-and-get-me-big-boy smile. Kit was used to seeing even more graphic posters around club-houses, so she was surprised by her urge to go find a marker and give this blonde a mustache and a few blacked-out teeth. And those boobs were so fake.

  She used the toilet, washed her hands and surveyed herself in the mirror over the sink. Pale face, flaming hair out to there, shirt on crooked, yeah, that was her. She finger-combed her hair a little and then tossed it back from her shoulders with a sigh. Her hair was going to do what it wanted, no sense worrying about it. And she had no extra money for salon visits, so the color was not gonna change. She’d had a fun purple highlight last winter, courtesy of her mom’s friend Evelyn, but it was gone now.

  And while her clothing wasn’t exactly biker chic, it was all she had, so no sense worrying about that either. She wasn’t willing to be some biker’s bitch to earn pretty clothing, and with only a high school education she wasn’t exactly rocking the job market either.

  She pushed down the familiar pressure that swelled in her middle, threatening to cut off her breath. She’d be fine. She was fine. She had friends, she had ... crap. She had nothing.

  Her hands were shaking as she shoved open the door and walked back out into the shop.

  Keys worked on as she crossed to the outside door. Kit eased the door open, and slipped outside, pulling it shut after herself. It was cloudy and still, only the top branches of the trees stirring far overhead.

  She listened carefully, scanning the clearing and surrounding woods. No motorcycles, only the faint sound of a car on the highway below.

  A loud screech cut the quiet air, making her start violently. She blew out a shaky breath as a black shape swooped through the clearing. A crow. Good thing this was reality, not SOA, or the damn bird would be a sign of bad things to come. She could almost hear the series’ awesome, gritty song playing in the background.

  Hands stuffed in the pockets of her hoodie, she wandered along the side of the shop. She turned the corner, and ran straight into a man’s hard chest. They both gave an oof! of surprise, then Kit recoiled with an instinctive gasp of fear.

  A hard hand grabbed her upper arm in a painful grip.

  It was Remi. Kit sagged with relief. “Jesus, you scared me. Ow, let go—you’re hurting me.”

  Instead, his grip tightened, and when she shook her hair back and looked into his face, Kit realized he was pissed.

  He shook her. “Kit, what the fuck are you doing wandering around out here?”

  She twisted in his grasp, scowling at him. “Let go, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  Remi shook his head once, but while he freed her arm, he slid his around her, herding her back along the building. He carried a large plastic bag in his other hand. “C’mon, you can explain inside.”

  “Shouldn’t you be down at the café?”

  “Closed. I did some cleanup, Jack’s locking up with Lindi.” He lifted the bag, and grinned crookedly. “I brought you dinner.”

  She eyed the bag with interest. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it hadn’t exactly been the kind of day to keep track of meals. Her tummy growled, and Remi’s grin widened.

  He herded her into the corner behind the old Coke machine. “You gotta give me another kiss to get it, though.”

  Kit responded to the twinkle in his dark eyes, sliding her hands up his chest and leaning into him. Here was someone who didn’t judge her, who only wanted to be her friend--maybe even her boyfriend. “I’ll kiss you for nothing, Remington.”

  Then she did. He smelled of fried food and clean sweat and he tasted sweet and wild. His mouth opened against hers, he tipped his head and he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. The plastic bag rustled, Styrofoam boxes whacking lightly against her hip as he tightened his grip on her. He felt so good in her arms, slim and hard and warm.

  They kissed, broke for breath and returned with silent agreement to each other’s mouths.

  He drew back at last, tipping his forehead against hers and nudging his lean hips into hers. “You taste so good,” he told her. “I could kiss you all day.”

  “Me too,” she told him. She wanted to undo his braid and pull him over her, kiss him and more with his black hair falling around their faces.

  “Later,” he promised. He gave her a last kiss, swift and damp, then straightened. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

  “I don’t know why everyone’s so worried about me poking my nose out for fresh air,” she grumbled as she followed him back into the shop. “The Flyers took off, right?”

  “I’ll tell you in a minute,” he said. “You and Keys.”

  “Tell me what?” a hard voice demanded.

  Kit’s irritation shriveled, alarm replacing it. Keys stood a few feet inside the door, arms crossed and a scowl on his face—directed solely at her.

  Chapter Seven

  Keys was honest to God not sure which he wanted to do more at the moment—kiss the fuck out of someone or spank their ass. He stood back and let the two walk into the shop, then slammed the door and locked it after them.

  “The fuck?” he demanded of the pretty redhead currently giving him a guilty look from beneath her lashes. “I tell you not to go outside and you do it the minute I turn my back? Do you not have any survival skills?”

  He and Remi exchanged a look that said the other man shared his irritation, although Remi’s wasn’t as extreme.

  Hell, maybe they should take turns spanking her. And oh, mama, that scene made his cock twitch with sheer lust. He and Remi turning her ass pink and then sharing her between them.

  If Keys could put up with her that long. The butterfly inked on her chest was beginning to seem like less of a decoration, and more of a personality test score.

  She huffed a breath that jiggled her tits, luckily for her in a way he really liked, because when she muttered ‘sorry’, he was ready to accept it, although giving her a hard look. “You gonna do it again?”

  “I can’t stay in here forever,” she told him, waving her hands to encompass the shop. At least she didn’t make those stupid little air quotes, or he would’ve had to kiss her. And since Remi had a certain gleam in his eyes when he watched her, Keys would curtail his own filthy fantasies—for now. If she preferred Remington to him, he’d deal. Remi was maybe the only man he knew that he’d step aside for with her.

  “You don’t have to stay in here forever,” Remi told her. “But even though the Flyers took off, a couple of dudes wandered into the café after them, ordered Cokes and hung around for a while, then left. I didn’t like their looks, neither did Jack.”

  Keys tensed, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. “You think they were looking for her?”

  Remi shrugged. “I got a hunch, is all. Don’t think they’re locals.”

  Remi was solid—if he had a hunch, Keys respected it. “Bouncer calling in a favor, maybe.”

  That would be something that stubborn jack-ass would do, set a watch on the café and likely Lindi’s place too. Shit, if the biker got his paws on Kit, she would be in way over her pretty head. “Well, Jack’s got the café and Lindi covered. But yeah, we need to keep you inside, Red. You’re on lock down for the night.”

  She opened her mouth, and he knew he was in for a fight. But Remi lifted the bag he was carrying, distracting her. “I brought dinner. Mac’n’cheese, salad and fried chicken,” he announced.

  “Bacon mac’n’cheese?” Keys asked, his own mouth watering. He’d had that from Remi before, and it kicked major ass.

  “Yup.”

  Keys’ waved to the table in the back corner kitchen. “Fantastic. Let’s eat.”

  Kit was eying Remi like he’d just shit rainbows. “You put bacon in your mac’n’cheese?”

  Remi grinned down at her, and Keys got why. That husky
Jessica Rabbit voice of hers, sounded like she’d just asked him if he could really last for half an hour in the saddle.

  “I do—and I make it from scratch, not a box,” Remi told her. “Also brought your favorite salad dressing, ranch.”

  “That’s everybody’s favorite, not just Red’s.” Keys grinned at the two of them as he pulled some paper plates from the cupboard and tossed them on the beat-up Formica table. Some forks from a drawer, the plastic salt and pepper shakers, and they were ready to eat.

  As Remi unloaded the food, Keys looked in the frig. “Beer or water?”

  “Beer,” the two chorused together.

  He pulled out three bottles of local lager, twisted the top off his own and took a long pull. To his amusement, Kit braced her bottle against the lip of the table and smacked the top off with a quick, expert move. She took a drink, and he watched her lick her lips.

  Remi opened the container of chicken.

  “Oh, man,” Keys said, inhaling the rich scent as he dropped into a chair between his guests. “I missed your cooking, babe.”

  Remi fumbled the dish of mac’n’cheese. His cheeks flushed, he set it down and offered the spoon to Kit. Her gaze on the food, she hadn’t noticed Keys’ slip. Not that he cared, but Remi did, so he’d watch that.

  Keys grabbed a piece of fried chicken and took a bite. He groaned as he chewed. “Mm, so good.”

  Her mouth full of mac’n’cheese, Kit nodded emphatically. “You should make this for the café,” she told Remi. “You and Lindi would have people lining up out the door.”

  “And this,” Keys added, holding up his piece of chicken.

  “I don’t know,” Remi said, filling his own plate. “Jack and I are talking about the menu for the supper club he’s gonna build next door. The mac’n’cheese would go perfect with barbecued ribs.”

  Keys took a big bite of the hot, cheesy pasta and nodded emphatically. Remi was right about that.

  “Don’t wanna have too many recipes in common between the two places,” Remi went on. “You want people to have favorites they can only get at one place or the other. That way they’ll spread their business.” He spoke with authority, which he should, the kid had been in the business since he was old enough to work for pay.