Chayton's Tempest (4 page)

best to help her out. She would thank him and send him on his

way to play sports or do homework. No matter how busy she

was, she always made sure she was there during anything he

was participating in, school or otherwise.

He’d spent many nights in her office at work while,

prohibited from coming out to the front. His mom would come

back there to check on his homework and him. He’d learned

how to mix drinks at a young age, but she’d refused to let him

serve any until he was twenty-one. So this year, he’d begun to

serve in the bar, even getting his certificate and it was all legal.

Dakota worked hard in school, determined to excel and

make his mother proud of him. He would be able to provide

for her and let her relax. For a while, he’d encouraged her to

date, but she’d staunchly refused. Nevertheless, recently there

had been a military man whom she’d been seeing off and on.

Tonight, Dakota had never seen that look on his

mother’s face. Something had spooked her and scared the crap

out of her. Anger began to burn inside Dakota. He would stand

for
no one
hurting her.

His hand reached for the door to her room. He wanted

to console her; but at the last second, he dropped his hand. His

mama was a proud woman. “I love you, Mama,” he whispered

to the door before he headed back to his room.

Three

Maverick woke the next morning feeling refreshed, as if

new life had poured into him. Walking down the street to grab

some breakfast, he thought about the woman at the bar.

She was someone special. All the lust he had for women,

the desire to flirt and play around had returned. Unlike
Talli

who did nothing for him, this woman boiled his blood in a

wonderful way.

He’d almost lost control when she looked at him. Then

her eyes had changed, and that had gotten him wondering

about her even more. One thing was for sure, he knew where

he was going tonight.

After eating breakfast, Maverick did more sightseeing. It

didn’t take long, however, and he went down
Wyoming

Boulevard toward Kirkland Air Force Base. Showing his

identification and the fact he had on a helmet and a reflective

vest, he was allowed on. It was regulation to wear them while

on motorcycles; even on bicycles, one had to be what the

military considered safe and “visible” or they could refuse to

let personnel on base.

He smiled as he rode, his mind drifting back to the

stunning smile his vixen had on her face as she’d spoken with

the waitress,
Mili
. Parking his bike, he took off the vest and

helmet.

His phone rang as he swung his leg off the hog.

“Maverick,” he said.

“Well, you sound tons better than when I talked to you

last,” the masculine voice on the other end said.

“Hey, Hondo.” Maverick began walking to the front

doors.

“How are you doing? Where are you?”

 
“I’m in New Mexico. At Kirkland Air Force Base about

to hit their B/X.”

“
New Mexico
? Air Force Base? You not thinking of

bailin
’ on us, are you?”

“Hell no!” he blurted. “I was in Albuquerque driving

around and ended up here. Just going shopping, seeing what

these Flaps have at their exchange.”

A deep sigh of relief filled the line. “What are you doing

in
New Mexico
?”

Pausing outside the exchange doors, Maverick leaned

against the wall. “I had a vision that led me here. I can’t explain

it man, but I know that I am in the right place.”

“Right place for what?’ Hondo questioned. He would

never doubt
Mav’s
visions but Maverick knew he was curious.

“I’m not sure yet. But I felt restless at home; and when I

began to drive, I was sent here. So I am going to stay here until

I figure it out.”

Hondo paused for a brief minute. “Okay. I fully expect

to see you and your wife-to-be at the end of this month

downtime.”

Hondo’s words brought one face to mind. It took a

moment before he could see anything past her beauty and

respond, “I like being single, thank you very much.”

Hondo heard the long pause and chuckled, making

Maverick silently curse. He, James
Lonetree
, had never

hesitated to say that before; normally it was out before the

statement about his future wife was fully in the air.

“So did I at one time,” the black man told Maverick.

“Well,
Xaria
would change my mind, too, but I don’t

think you’d share.”

Silence reigned on the other end for a moment. “It’s

good to hear you joking around again,
Mav
. I have to go. Keep

in touch.”

“Bye, Hondo, give that wife of yours my best.” Maverick

shut off his phone and walked inside, immediately cooled by

the blasting air conditioning. Taking in the size of the place, he

grabbed a cart and began to shop, ignoring all the appreciative

looks the women gave him.

Maverick left the exchange, carrying his bags. He’d

purchased some things that might come in handy. Stowing

them in the saddlebags, he tossed on his vest and fastened his

helmet. He hated riding with one, but military rules stated one

had to have a brain bucket on along with the reflective vest if

on a bike.

Putting his bike back on the road, he drove through the

base. It never ceased to amaze him how nice an Air Force base

was.
Sure as
shittin
’ have a hard time finding a Navy base this nice.

He drove out the gate and up

looking at the mountains to his right. Instead of returning to his

hotel right away, he journeyed through the city, getting more

of the layout of the land.

That night around seven-thirty, Maverick walked back

through the doors of B’s Quarry
.
It was not as busy as the

previous night and he sat in a table towards the back, where it

was darker than most places.

It didn’t take long for a waitress to approach. “What can

I get for you, doll?”

Maverick smiled up at her. It wasn’t
Mili
but she was

still very attractive. “I’ll take a beer; whatever is on tap’s fine.”

“You got it, handsome.” She winked and then sashayed

off to the bar.

Where he sat, Maverick had a clear line of sight to the

bar. At the moment, that young man was back there and took

the order from the waitress. A side door opened by the

women’s restroom and Maverick watched his gorgeous

bartender walk through it.

He licked his lips as his obsidian eyes took in her

appearance. She wore a pair of low-rider jeans that should have

been outlawed, the way they cupped her lower body. A white

dress shirt was tied off at her waist. Its sleeves were torn away

and he could envision the bra that was beneath it.

Her manner of dress left her midsection bare and he

eagerly lapped up the view. He noticed the white canvas shoes

on her feet and no socks. Her hair was completely off her neck

and face with the exception of the wisps plastered to her skin.

She was delectable looking and he wanted to get to know her

better. All of her.

She turned around at the door and reached in to lift out

a big case of alcohol. He wanted to go help her, but the young

man behind the counter beat him to it. The smile she bestowed

upon that lad made Maverick sick.

Get a grip,
Mav
; you can’t be jealous over a woman who

hasn’t said more than five words to you.
Taking a deep breath, he

tipped the waitress when she left his beer. Holding the cold

mug in one strong hand, he observed the woman make trip

after trip, carrying more boxes out of that room.

Wanting to go help her, Maverick had to force himself to

remain in his seat. She didn’t look stressed; in fact, she seemed

quite content with doing physical labor. When she was

finished, her five-seven frame slid behind the counter just as a

group of men came in the door. All of them hollered greetings

to her.

“Tempest,” he muttered to himself while listening to her

respond. “Her name is Tempest.”

It was a good thing Tempest didn’t have a box in her

hands the first time she’d come up from the cellar for she

would have dropped it when her dark eyes landed on the tall

man sitting alone off to the side.
He
was back.

So in order to regain some semblance of control, she’d

brought up the cases one by one as opposed to two at a time

like she usually did. Tempest knew her son noticed but, bless

his heart, had the brains to keep his mouth shut.

The trio of men that had come in through the door after

she’d finished were part of her Wednesday night regulars. It

didn’t take long for them to seat themselves around the bar.

 
“Evening, gentlemen,” Tempest said with a smile as she

automatically began preparing their drinks for them.

“Hey, darling,” the largest of the three, Frank

Witherspoon, said. “How are you doing?”

Tempest sent him a blinding smile. She slid his double

shot of José
Cuervo
Gold across the shiny teak bar top. “Not

bad. And yourself, how’s your wife doing?”

“Ready for you to come over for another dinner.” He

flopped down a twenty and waited for the change.

“I’ll wait for the call.” Her hands mixed a Lynchburg

Lemonade and pushed it across to another customer. “And

you, Mr. Miles Homer? How are you doing?”

The pale, freckled-faced man grinned at her. “Very well,

my dear. Going to ask my woman to marry me this weekend

when she flies into town.”

Putting the change in front of her friend, she nodded.

“Congrats! Let me know how it turns out.”

“Sweetheart, you will be handling the bachelor party

and possibly the reception!”

Tempest arched a brow. “I will, will I? At his answering

nod, she smiled. Without breaking her momentum she fixed

Oscar Hewitt a single shot of Black Label with club soda and

lemon twist.

“Excuse me!” a man shouted from down the bar after

she handed Oscar his drink.

With ease, Tempest moved down the bar and talked to

the man waving the bill. As the night progressed, the joint

filled up and music played. Tonight’s selections were more

country than anything else.

Maverick left his solitary seat and headed for a barstool.

He had to be closer to her—no reason, just a need. The young

man was down at this end of the bar and Maverick just waved

him away holding up the beer that he had in his hand.

His eyes strayed back to the beautiful woman who