"Thank you." His easy compliment fills me with a little more hope. You don't compliment someone you're about to kill. Would you? And also, I like the praise. It's wrong on so many levels, but he's just so cute. It's a girl thing. When a cute guy compliments you, it's thrilling. That and I need therapy.The whole situation is so epically wrong.The two of us stare at one another, neither speaking until I'm sure I'm going to go insane. How does someone sit at a table so quiet? If he is a secret government agent, that must be his superpower."So, tell me about yourself."Graham chuckles. "Contrary to popular rumors, I am not a spy. I'm here on a short-term assignment helping Ridge Jefferson," he mentions the town's leading security specialists. They have signs all over saying they'll install your home security system, but most town residents are sure they're a group of secret government operatives, so admitting this isn't helping his defense of not a secret government like job.
"This is crazy." After Graham followed me out of the dining room after our blackmail date, he practically demanded I give him a real date.And so, I agreed.I didn't even make a fight or pretend like I wasn't interested. I still haven't worked out if he is mysteriously hot or scary hot, and I think deep down inside I'm curious enough to find out. Will he wine and dine me or lock me in a kidnapper van with shag carpeting and no windows?Cammie sighs as she tugs on my hair, her fingers flying through the strands as she braids it in some kind of elaborate design. She promised my medium brown color would make me look like a feisty Katniss when she finished. "It's romantic.""How exactly is getting caught snooping in his room and then blackmailed into a date romantic?""It sounds like the opening to a romance novel. You and the hero have an unlikely first meeting, but over time the two of you fall in love and eventually he sweeps you off your feet and takes you home where he is th
What would people in town consider the second-best place? There aren't many options. "The bakery?"Graham's steps falter, but just for a second as if he's an engine that missed a click. "That place is a little too friendly."He says "too friendly" as if that is a bad thing. The bakery is one of my favorite parts of Pelican Bay. Everyone knows everybody else and wouldn't waste a second giving you a helping hand. Even the color scheme is happy.We stop much quicker than the steps it would require to get to the bakery, which is a good thing because my nose has already started to complain the frostbite will take it right off my face. Graham holds the door open, stepping back and letting me enter the diner first.One point for a gentleman.Graham is right. I have spent too much time at the bed-and-breakfast the last six months and not enough in the rest of Pelican Bay. Besides the occasional trip to the bakery for something hot to drink or one of her handmade cookies, I haven't go
"You're seeing the spy again?" Cammie asks, waving her hand in front of her face and pretending to fan herself."Shhh. Lower your voice. He's not and yes." If he were a spy, it's not like he'd tell me anyway.Her eyes narrow as she studies me and worry builds in my stomach. I love Cammie even though she gets me into trouble, but that girl could make money as a human lie detector. She has to be part gypsy because half the time she knows what I'm planning to do before I do."Is he blackmailing you?" She stares for a moment longer. "Because he is hot, but he caught you in his room with a B&E.""Me?" I whisper shout and then quickly look around to make sure there were no guests in hearing range. It can never get out that I was in someone's room when I shouldn't have been. The consequences would be dire for the bed-and-breakfast and myself."Where is he taking you?" she asks leaning against the front desk, her eyes never wavering. Human lie detector.I shrug. "I have no idea."
My eyes search his, looking for an explanation of the two women continuing to smile overwhelmingly at him and us as if they're waiting for him to make some big declaration, but he's not planning to. Graham is hot. Is it possible these two have a thing for the man who brought me to their bakery on a date?Why do they know his name? Why did he pick here? Why are they so smiley? My eyes ask the questions, but he only shakes his head and leans down whispering in my ear."It's not what it looks like. I'll tell you later."He orders two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of donut holes, allowing me to pick out my favorite kind — cherry glazed. Then rather than take a seat at one of the small brightly colored tables and chairs, he basically pushes me right back out the bakery door, the two women behind the counter with smiles even larger. They both wave as we walk by the large window. It's a little Stepford Wives if you ask me."What was that about?"Graham holds his truck door open as
My nose crinkles at the odor floating up from the room vents and floor. It's a cross between a cigarette and a dead skunk, as if somebody found a piece of roadkill, rolled it up and decide to smoke it. The thought alone makes me gag.I'm not a person to smoke recreational weed myself, even though it is legal, but even I know what it smells like. Although this stuff is expired. Can weed expire?But where would it be coming from? Even though the drug may be legal in Maine for personal use, it doesn't mean they can smoke in the bed-and-breakfast even in the privacy of rooms. We're a no smoking facility. This building has been around for over one hundred years. It's kindling.I follow the putrid smell out into the hallway, my nose taking in all the scents around me like I've turned into a bloodhound drug-sniffing dog. Thinking of that, what happened to all those canines now that weed is legal? Did they ship them to other states? Or do they use them to sniff out large quantities of po
Graham tugs my leg to him twisting our appendages together. Less than a breath separates us and my heart hammers, begging for him to kiss me.He does, and it's nothing like when we sat together on the bench in the middle of a clearing. This kiss is demanding and firm. His lips lock onto mine and the room gets twenty degrees hotter. His hand cups my chin, his thumb rubbing against my skin. My lips open, granting him access, and our tongues duel against one another.His fingers curl underneath my shirt tracing against my naked skin until he hits the barrier of my bra. I moan, moving a finger through his belt buckle and pulling him closer, wanting so much more.It's fast. Faster than it should be. I count off the days and the number of dates as fast as possible. Does this count as three? Will he think less of me if it isn't?His attention falls to my neck and Graham lazily dots my collarbone with kisses. "We don't need to do anything more," he says between each peck. "Whatever you
"Are you sure you want to meet my friends?" Graham runs his fingers through his dark hair smoothing it back.I nod like a fool caught up in his spell. I've never met a man who can make such a simple action so overwhelmingly intimate."Yup." As if I'd say anything else.He gives me one last look, waiting for me to change my mind, and when I don't, we walk through the big doors of the bed-and-breakfast out into the cold afternoon. Before we cross over the covered patio, he takes my hand into his. Our arms swing together back and forth as we walk.Normally, I want to stay inside and avoid the cold as much as possible, even on a rare afternoon off, but the last few days I've ventured out to spend time with Graham. You would think your body would get used to the sudden drop in temperature, your skin hardened against the bite of the cold wind. But it doesn't. The air is as frigid for me today as it was yesterday. Possibly even colder. My skin still hurts and with each breath it feels
ElliotFive years later"No, sweetie, we only get one puppy today." I squat getting on the same level as my daughter, Brandise.The round ball of fluff she squeezes onto with all her might so he doesn't run away licks her across the face and she giggles. "Daddy, they're twins just me and Bray. They have to stay together."My eyes flick back and forth between each dog. One held in the tight grip of Brandise and the other being sized up by my son. Their mother, Harley, a woman who took too long for me to figure she meant everything stands between the two of them with her lips pinched together not helping me in this situation. She's left me out in the cold on my own.The two puppy siblings look alike, but in my eyes every Yorkie looks the same. How can you tell them apart? The puppies my babies held both had a lighter colored face than Rocky, but other than that they were big puffballs of fur."Sweetie, Rocky only needs one brother," I try again hoping to talk sense into her.
Elliot's steps are slow but sure as I hold open the bakery door to let him get through the space. Once he's cleared the way, I stand beside him in case he needs me for support as he makes his way to the first table in the busy sitting section. You wouldn't expect a shoulder injury to cause issues walking, but with each movement his body makes, his shoulder sways with the force and his face grimaces.It's too soon for him to be up and moving, but I couldn't make him listen to reason.He finds his seat and plops in it heavily, the chair legs scraping on the tile. The people around us stop what they're doing and turn before a small round of applause starts from behind the bakery counter and then picks up including people from every space in the bakery. Elliot turns to the noise, catching everyone in their adoration, and scowls until the clapping fades."Cupcakes for everyone," Anessa says smiling from her spot at the counter. "Especially for our new hero."Elliot's scowl deepens.
Dominick releases a breath and sucks in another one as if preparing himself for this new life. "Are you positive? Because there are very eligible bachelors in my club. A brother could keep you safe."I don't argue with him that Elliot kept me safe. Well at least until he got shot, and no one can blame a man for that. He literally stuck his body in between me and a loaded weapon. How much more could he have done?Plus I could never live life in the club again. Now after experiencing life on my own. "Yeah, and then they'd cheat on me or go to prison."Dominick shakes his head. "My men aren't that way. They love hard and deep. I changed the club here, Harley. It's different from how we grew up in Colorado."There's honesty in his words, but it will never be enough to bring me back. "Elliot is mine."Dom shakes his head once, admitting defeat. "Fine. Onto topic two. I met your father," he says father accusatorily like I've been keeping something from him.Which, in a way, I hav
Without warning there's another harsh pop in the air like someone shooting off a firecracker, and then red blossoms in the middle of Pete's forehead. His body falls back hitting the ground once again. The thud is too far away to hear, but I swear my body feels the vibration.Holy fuck.My ears ring from the gunfire as men pool around us each of them yelling things back and forth. It's coordinated chaos. An ambulance with its lights flashing speeds over the highway."That man took three bullets to the chest," Huxley mutters to himself shaking his head. "I haven't seen anything that crazy since Thailand."... The steady beat of Elliot's hospital machines lulls me into a restless sleep as my head rests on Elliot's hand."Harley," a deep voice whispers in my ear, shaking my shoulder. "Har."In a start my head pops up and my eyes search Elliot's face, but his hand still rests underneath my head, a pool of my drool sticking between his fingers."Still drool, huh? I wouldn't
"Dominick won't pay anything for me," I lie.Pete laughs. "Don't want money. I'm looking to trade you for a free get-out-of-town card. If he won't offer me his protection, you'll be a going away gift to my men. They're upset with having to leave. I'm sure you understand.""What?" Fear causes me to choke out the word as a hundred images flash through my brain of what he could mean, but only one is sick and depraved enough for this man.He smirks. "They'll love you if the Impaler doesn't."I fall to my knees against the back of his seat. "No, please don't." I'd rather he shoot me now than do what his smile promises. He means I'm to be a sexual gift given to his men and passed between them. I'd never survive. Sure, Dom trained me in basic self-defense skills, but my mother sheltered me from club life so I only heard the evils of the world through others. Until now, I never once felt concern for my safety. Not the way I do now.The cargo van travels on the highway, passing a bill
"Stand up, Fucker."Elliot scoots away from me as I claw deftly on his leg trying to hold on and keep him close. He turns, not making any sudden movements and puts his body in front of mine to shield me once again from the nasties of life."Let's not do anything drastic, Pete." Elliot takes a step forward with his hand held out defensively.I twist seeing the old man wearing a pair of board shorts, a blue Hawaiian shirt with palm trees, and flip-flops on his feet standing in the middle of the beach. He resembles a tourist who belongs in Florida not a man running a drug ring in Pelican Bay. He sneers at me taking the tension from Elliot for just a moment and waving the gun in his direction as if either of us could forget it's there."She's the only one who can name me. Without her I can pick up shop and start somewhere fresh and there's nothing you can do about it. You guys don't have shit on me.""You're standing in the middle of a public beach during the day, Pete," Elliot t
He flinches as of my question has hurt him, but I'm the child who didn't have a father. "I got out early for good behavior and I looked up your mother. I learned what happened. Sorry about your loss," he says. The words are stagnant as if he knows what he's supposed to say but struggles with the meaning. Yet, something in the inflection makes me believe he means each one. His eyes turn soft, possibly remembering his time with my mother.My life has never been cupcakes and cookies, but the last month has been indescribable except for the word surreal. First, I had no father, then I picked up a club president for a stepdad, lost him, and now gained back the original. What is happening to my life?"What will happen now?"My father shakes his head and stares at me with a touch of a smile tweaking his lips. "I'm out of the club life. Plan to take the straight and narrow from here on out."I hold back the cringe at his promise. It's one I've heard from club brothers my entire life. E
Elliot shakes his head, his fingers curving around the handle of his gun. His face pinches together as if he has so much to say, but is staying silent for me.Until he doesn't anymore."Would someone mind telling me what the fuck is going on?"He's not the only one looking for answers. "Me too. Mom said you died in a motorcycle crash. Drove your bike over a mountain ledge one night." She hadn't said he'd been drinking, but I've filled in the blanks for myself as I aged.My father's teeth come together hard making a gnashing sound I hear even from my position. "Yeah well. She thought it would be better than the true story. Easier for both of you to move on rather than wait around on me living only a half-life.""Then what is the true story?" After my mom left Dominick's dad, it was the three of us together. I always believed we never hid any secrets from one another.My father shakes his head and stares at me but looks past me as if he's reliving the memories himself. "She s
My gaze and thoughts flip to the back door, but I'm too far away to reach it before he could shoot me.The man is younger than Pete and not the person I saw put a bullet in someone earlier this month, but he's old enough to be my father. His skin is leathered and wrinkled as if he's spent a lifetime in the sun. His jeans are loose and a leather jacket lacking any MC cut is wrapped around his body. Not a Bloodhound.I stand next to the kitchen island breathing heavily while trying to come up with an escape plan as the two of us stare at one another unmoving.He speaks first. "Now, Harley, is this any way to greet the old man who named you?"His words scatter in my brain, startling me into paying attention, all my plans of escape lost. "Excuse me? My father named me."It was one of the few stories I had of the man who shared such a brief relationship with my mother. "He wanted to pay homage to the best...""Damn motorcycle company the US has ever seen," he finishes my sentenc