Breathing His Air
Breathing His Air
Debra Kayn, author of
Wildly
Avon, Massachusetts
This edition published by
Crimson Romance
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
10151 Carver Road, Suite 200
Blue Ash, Ohio 45242
Copyright © 2013 by Debra Kayn
ISBN 10: 1-4405-6647-X
ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6647-9
eISBN 10: 1-4405-6648-8
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-6648-6
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Cover art © 123rf.com/14732875 and 16304825
Wheels – This one’s for you, baby. For letting only me see that softness inside of you, while being the man that I’ve always needed and wanted. I’m honored and proud to be your woman. Sturgis, 2014. I’ll be the chick on the table, you’ll be the badass who carries me away and leaves bodies on the ground. Don’t worry, I’ll remember to hold on tight.
Lukie – Helmet, son. Watch the speed. If you ever have doubts, ask yourself what you had for lunch
…
then get back on and ride.
Bubba booey and Jimmy Beam – There will be two girls for two boys, and you’ll need two motorcycles. You’ll ride side by side on the same road, going the same direction.
Sissy – Ah, you’ve lived through the embarrassment, you’ve fought and kicked what I knew was there all along. It took a biker rally, a singer, and a dude in the summer of 2012 for you to see the light. My job is done. Now I want my Harley Davidson shirt back.
And last, but not least
…
Jennifer. Thank you for believing in me, trusting me, and sharing the love for a super alpha. I couldn’t have done this without you.
Contents
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
Chapter One
The deep, rich scent of Colombian bean filled the eight-by-six shed on wheels. Tori Baldwin pulled the grape lollipop out of her mouth, tossed it in the garbage, and flipped the switch for the florescent green
Open
sign.
Let’s make some money
.
She slid the window open and leaned outside. “Welcome to the Coffee Shack. What can I get you this morning?”
An over-happy mother in an SUV with two kids sitting in the back seat held out a five-dollar bill. “I’d like a small latte, no whipped cream, please.”
“Coming right up.” Tori stuck the small cup under the dispenser and turned to the woman. “Love advice is free with any order.”
“Excuse me?” said the woman.
“If you have a question or problem with your love life, I’ll give you advice on how to get back on track and smiling.” She slipped a drinking lid onto the cup and passed it through the window, taking the woman’s money. “Anything at all. I’m here to help.”
“No, thanks. With kids and a husband I don’t have time to even think about a love life.” The woman laughed and waved off the change. “Keep it.”
“Thank you.” She shrugged and waved to the next customer to pull forward.
A German shepherd leaped over the lap of the driver and barked at her. She stepped away from the window, grabbed a dog biscuit from under the counter, and set the treat on the ledge. “What can I get you today?”
“Straight, black coffee. Large.” A husky man with a dirty baseball cap pushed the dog down and followed it up with a pat. “Stay, Sergeant.”
“Beautiful dog you have.” She poured the drink, added the lid, and handed it through the window. “Love advice is free with every purchase. Is there anything I can help you with today?”
“Love?” He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on, you look like a guy some woman would be happy to meet.” She handed over the doggy treat. “Ask me anything at all.”
His brows rose and he kept one hand on the dog. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”
“Dude … you won’t regret it.” She grinned.
“Where’s the best place to pick up women in this town?” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Try to answer that one, ’cause I’m not having any luck. I’m a long-haul trucker, so I’m not around much but when I’m home, I’d like to have a little company. Maybe a home-cooked meal if you know what I’m saying.”
“Gotcha.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward. “Saturday night at Cactus Cove, there’s a waitress by the name of Ginger. She’s tired of normal pickup lines, so be blunt and upfront. Oh, and she has a cocker spaniel, so she loves dogs.”
“Heh.” He removed his hat, ran his hand over his forehead. “Maybe I’ll stop in there. What can I lose, right?”
“Not a penny. Ginger has brown hair down to her shoulders. About — she held her hand a few inches above her head — this tall. A real sweetie. Tell you what I’ll do. Give me your name. I’ll drop a few hints about you tonight when I go there for dinner.”
He studied her, shook his head, and the laugh lines around his mouth deepened. “I can’t believe I’m doing this … ”
“Your name?”
“Dwayne,” he said.
She handed him the change. “Great. Here you go, Dwayne, and good luck with Ginger.”
“Uh, thanks.” He glanced back at her as he drove away, shaking his head in amusement.
Tori hadn’t been joking. Ginger was looking for a steady man in her life.
For the next four hours, customers came and went. Tori refilled the machines and prepared for the next wave to arrive when the line emptied. Only working the morning hours would be enough to finance her stay in the quiet, off-the-main-road town of Pitnam, Oregon, and put away a little cash each week for her next trip. Once she locked up for the day, she’d have enough time to check out the town and do her own thing.
She wiped down the counters, sealed the containers of coffee, and closed the blinds. Pitnam offered her enough entertainment for a while and was big enough she wouldn’t have to form any lasting relationships.
For a brief time, she’d allow herself to fit in. She’d pretend she had what everyone else did. Then when the newness wore off and people started growing too close, she’d move on and reinvent herself somewhere else.
She never regretted her nomad life. Not a single second thought happened during the day. But when she laid her head on the pillow to go to sleep, her dreams consumed her. When those wishes became too hard to control, she ran. A new location, new customers, and a new start.
Hearing chest-thumping noise that rattled the mobile shack and sent the paper cups to falling on the counter, she glanced out the screen door. A group of men on motorcycles cruised around on the gravel, riding in a circle and stirring up dust.
Well, they’d have to come back tomorrow for coffee. She was done for the day.
After locking the Coffee Shack’s door, she walked around and double-checked the lock on the hitch. Unable to afford insurance, she devised a barrier to keep anyone from hooking onto the trailer and stealing her only source of income.
Satisfied everything was sealed up tight, she walked across the parking lot, gazing over her shoulder, smiling at her turn of good luck. The corner of a parking lot on a busy road was the perfect place to set up business for a while.
A biker pulled into the lot and veered in front of her. The hot air from the muffler blew across her bare legs, and she jumped away. Then another motorcycle skimmed the back of her knees, forcing her forward. The noise deafening, she tottered as one biker after another threatened to run her over.
Her over-the-shoulder bag fell to the ground. She bent her arms and covered her breasts, dodging from left foot to right, avoiding the roar of the engines as they rode past her, circled, and came around her again. Heart racing, she stared in horror as they blocked her in.
Dust from their tires clogged her throat. She coughed and turned in a circle, searching for an opening to escape. Afraid if she blinked, they’d run her over.
One dude, beard down to the middle of his chest, skullcap tied over his windblown long hair, stopped in front of her. He leered, and a shiver skirted down her spine at seeing the white of his eyes.
She sidestepped, but another rider moved in closer from behind her, forcing her to move right into Crazy Eyes’ bike. She squeaked and stopped herself from falling onto him by grabbing his arm.
“Climb on.” Crazy Eyes motioned with his head.
She shook her head. “No. No, thank you.”
“I said, climb on.”
That was a definite clue that she was over her head and in trouble. She sidestepped, but another biker cut off her retreat. “I don’t want to ride your motorcycle. Now move.”
“Looks like she made her choice, Harry.” The newcomer to the roundup hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “Wrap those legs around me, bitch.”
“You did not just say that to me.” She glanced in all directions.
Shit.
Four bikers boxed her in. Another row of riders circled them. She had no hope that some sane person would jump to her rescue.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, bending over to catcalls to pick up her purse.
She straightened and glared. “Oh, knock it off. I really don’t want to ride on any of your bikes, so get the hell out of my — ”
An engine roared, cutting the rest of her words off. She flinched. This wasn’t going the way she’d hoped. She’d have to try another tactic.
“I’m Tori, I own the Coffee Shack.” She pointed toward her left at the mobile trailer at the corner of Cactus Cove’s parking lot.
As if the riders planned it, they revved their bikes in answer. She planted her fists on her hips. “Can you stop that? I was going to say, I’ll give you free — ”
The noise level increased, until she covered her ears. How did they expect to hear what she had to say if they kept interrupting and setting their bikes off?
A hand grabbed her around the upper arm. She tugged and fell forward when she broke loose, and landed in Crazy Eyes’ lap. His arm went around her waist, and he hauled her in front of him on the bike.
Oh, God.
