Doughnut Darlin' (Plus Size Romance 4) (2 page)

Lana grinned sheepishly and grabbed the extra pillow behind her head.  Unzipping the inner cover, she pulled out a tiny silver key with short, jagged teeth and handed it to Raven.  “I think this one should do the trick.  Give it a go, kiddo.”

Excitedly, Raven took the key from Lana’s trembling fingers.  Sticking it into the tiny slot, she gently turned it.  When it clicked, the lid popped open like a jack in the box, making her squeal and jump.  She looked at her mama’s beautiful, expectant face, and they both burst out laughing.  Then Lana’s laughter died down, and she spoke softly.  “Over the years I managed to put back a little money here and there, and I lucked up on some good investments.  I also sold all the jeweled heirlooms my grandma gave me.  What’s in that box is for you, my sweet girl.”

Tears formed at the corners of Raven’s eyes.  “Oh Mama, this is too much.  I can’t take this.  What about Alan? What does he have to say about it?”

Lana’s voice was strong and insistent.  “You can and you will.  There’s five-hundred thousand dollars in that box.  All of it is for you.  For you to live your life away from Alan.”

Raven wondered just how much her mother knew about Alan’s recent misconduct.

As if reading her mind, Lana said, “I’m not blind, Raven.  I’ve kept a close eye on Alan since I got sick.  I noticed how he was always sneaking glances at you when he thought I wasn’t looking.  But I wasn’t worried about him acting on anything as long as he was in my bed.  Once I got too ill to—well, to take care of his needs, I knew all bets were off.  Why do you think I‘ve insisted on you sleeping in here with me for these last two years?”

Raven blushed.  “I thought you needed me close by because you were so sick.”

Lana smiled and patted her daughter’s arm.  “I did need you, but I also needed to
protect
you. Once I’m gone, there won’t be any stopping your stepfather.  He’ll try to make his fantasies a reality.  That’s why you have to go right away.  I’ve sent him on an errand that should take most of the day.  I wanted you to have time to gather your things.”

Tears streamed down Raven’s cheeks.  “No, Mama, I don’t want to leave you.  I‘ll go after your funeral.”

Lana shook her head; the energy and vibrancy of moments ago were fading fast.  “That will be too late, my sweet girl.  You must go now.  Pack a few belongings, then call yourself a cab.  I’d give you my car, but Alan would report it stolen and have the police track it down.”

Sniffling, Raven asked, “Where should I go, Mama?”

“Anywhere you want, baby.  Just be happy when you get there.”

Raven leaned down and gave Lana a long, bittersweet hug.

When she raised up, Lana placed her hand on her daughter’s cheek.  “I want you to do two things for me.”

“I’ll do anything for you, Mama.”

“Not for me, for you.  I want you to tell stories, Raven.  Lots of beautiful, romantic ones. Write books that will make the whole world read.”

“You know about my writing?”

Smiling, Lana said, “Yes.  When you thought I was sleeping, I was really watching your fingers fly across that keyboard.”

“I promise I’ll write every day.  What was the second thing?”

Lana took a deep, thoughtful breath.  “Don’t pick a present by its wrapping.  Pretty paper on the outside doesn’t mean there’s a good gift on the inside.”

Raven furrowed her brows, fearing that her mother’s lucidity was fading.  “I’m sorry, Mama; I don’t follow.”

“Just because a man wraps himself in proper manners and a fine suit doesn’t mean he’s a gentleman.”

Raven understood.  Her mother was saying you couldn’t judge a man by his outward façade.  Alan had come with a nice wrapping, but he was ugly on the inside.  He had fooled them both.

The memory of that last day with her mama had drained Raven.  She stretched out on the sofa, covering herself with the Afghan Lana had knitted for her when she turned sixteen.  Raven drifted off to sleep, dreaming about a man with rough edges, bad manners and black leather boots.

RONAN DARK SNATCHED THE vibrating cell phone from the pocket of his leather jacket.  He had been dreading this call for days.  He didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it was.  Reluctantly, he answered.  “Mr. Shore, what can I do for you?”

“Bring my fucking daughter to me ASAP, asshole.”

Ronan clenched the phone so hard he could feel the frame cracking.  If he didn’t loosen his grip, he would crush the small device, rendering it useless.

“No can do.” More accurately, no
will
do.  He braced himself for the verbal attack that was sure to come.

“What the hell does that mean? Listen up, you no-good, rat-shitting, biker baboon. We had a deal.  You deliver my fat-ass package to me.  I give you a nice chunk of change.”

Ronan gritted his teeth.  He was developing a deep distaste for this disrespectful sonofabitch.  Taming his temper, he lied with ease.  “I can’t deliver what I don’t have.  Erman is a bust.  Raven isn’t here.”

There was a long stretch of silence.  For a minute, Ronan thought Alan Shore had hung up.  When he spoke again, his voice was a little softer and a lot less confrontational.

“I see.  Do you have any other leads?”

“My computer guy traced an email she sent this mornin.’  The IP address indicates a location in Tennessee.  Looks like Raven’s headed north.”

The edginess returned to his voice.  “Then I strongly suggest
you
head north, asswipe,” he snapped, disconnecting the call.

Ronan breathed a sigh of relief.  He had bought himself a little more time to get to know Raven.  To hear her side of things before deciding whether or not to take her back to that low-life douchebag.  For a man with high morals and ethical standards, the decision would be a no-brainer.  But Ronan Dark wasn’t that kind of man.  Nope.  He had always looked out for Number One, making life choices based on how it best benefited him. 

The fact that he hadn’t snatched Raven up, carried her back to Shore and collected the twenty- thousand dollars owed him was a testament to the effect she had already had on him.  He knew it was ridiculous to feel
anything
for her.  They hadn’t been on a date. He hadn’t kissed her. Hell, they hadn’t even had a full conversation.  Yet, the curvaceous beauty had stirred something inside him.  An odd longing to do the right thing.  To put someone else’s welfare above his own.  Raven’s influence over his thoughts and emotions was strange and disturbing.  It was also alluring and irresistible.  So much so that he had been sitting on his Harley in front of her apartment building for the last three hours.  He would sit there three days straight for just another glimpse of her gorgeous face.

It was almost dusk, and he was dying to be near her again.  To gaze into her warm, brown eyes.  To touch her creamy, flawless flesh.  To take her for that nighttime bike ride.  The one he told her she would beg for.  Sitting astride his motorcycle with an erection so monumental it threatened to rip the crotch out of his Levis, he wanted to beg
her
.  But he wouldn’t.  He would play it cool like he always did, showing no vulnerability.  Never revealing his true need and desire.  Raven would be the one to ask him, not the other way around.

RAVEN JERKED AWAKE, FEELING slightly disoriented.  She had only meant to close her eyes for a few minutes.  To take a short catnap at most.  Looking at her watch, she groaned.  She had been asleep for three hours.  Twilight was closing in.  It would be dark soon. 
Damn it!
Now she would be wide awake all night.  She really should remember to set a timer for these impromptu naps.  The last time this happened, she felt like crap for three days.  It took that long to reset her circadian rhythms and get back on a regular sleep schedule.

If there was one thing she knew for sure in this world, it was that proper sleep habits were essential.  They could make or break a day, dictate one’s moods and determine whether or not a body was productive. Stretching, she stood and walked to the window.  Beautiful thoughts of Ronan blossomed in her mind like buttercups bursting from a meadow. 

Her dreams of him had been deliciously naughty.  She could literally feel his big, strong hands intimately caressing her body.  His full, masculine lips seductively brushing the side of her neck before finding her mouth.  His tongue delving inside to tango with hers.  His knee forcing her legs apart while he ground his hardness against her softness. 

Grabbing the
TV Guide
off the coffee table, she fanned herself.  It was only a dream.  One that would never come true.  Hot men with rocking hard bodies, riding Harley-Davidson Motorcycles didn’t make love to women of her size.  Raven had seen those biker chicks on magazine covers at the convenience store. 
Those
women were tall and lean, draping themselves over the bikes and the men riding them.  Their long, blond hair flowing down the length of their backs to the top of their perfectly-shaped, tiny asses. 

Raven didn’t fit that description at all.  She was of average height with the four B’s—brown hair, brown eyes, big butt.  She knew she shouldn’t engage in self-deprecation.  It was negative and destructive.  Maybe she wasn’t model thin, but she had lots of great attributes.  She was kind, honest, funny and smart. Even if she was a little on the chubby side, she was still very pretty by any standard. 

As she pulled back the curtains and opened the blinds, she couldn’t help but wonder what standards Ronan would hold her to.  Mostly, she just wondered what it would be like for him to hold her.

Looking up at the skyline, she felt breathless.  A million stars sparkled against a solid backdrop of darkness.  She marveled at how quickly the dusk had turned to night—a night perfect for a bike ride.  Before the thought could solidify itself, she heard the revving of a motorcycle.  Squinting her eyes, she followed the sound. 
Ronan
. His sexy silhouette astride such a powerful machine made her heart flutter.  He hossed the engine again, beckoning her to him. 

Turning away from the window, away from him, Raven nervously smoothed her shoulder-length hair.  It was thick and wavy and felt silky against her sweaty palms.  The last thing she wanted was for him to see her bed-head—or in this case, sofa-bed head. 

The impatient roar of the engine made her feel flustered.  She scurried about the apartment looking for her tennis shoes.  She was wearing tan capris pants and a pink T-shirt with Minnie Mouse on the front. 
Real sexy
, she thought to herself.  But there was no time to change her clothes or her mind.

She had the distinct feeling Ronan wasn’t the type to wait around too long for any woman.  Jamming her feet into a white pair of Keds, she grabbed her keys, put them in her pocket and sprinted out the door.  When she got to the parking lot, he was gone.

RONAN SMILED MISCHIEVOUSLY FROM beneath a huge thicket of holly bushes at the entrance to the apartment complex.  He concealed the bike behind the overgrown foliage as well.  He wasn’t trying to trick Raven or be mean-spirited.  He just wanted a chance to talk to her before they took a ride.

His heart lurched when he saw the crushed look on her face.  From the glow of a street lamp, he could see tears glistening at the corners of her big, beautiful brown eyes.  They were the same chestnut color as her lovely hair. 
Shit!
This wasn’t going well at all.

He had to stifle a moan of misery when Raven dropped her sweet head in obvious disappointment, turned around and headed back toward her apartment.  He sprinted into action.  There was no way in hell he was going to let her get away that easily. 

He was fast, stealthy and quiet.  He was close enough to smell her intoxicating scent, but she had no idea he was behind her.  Just as she reached for the door, he placed one hand over her mouth and one arm around her waist.  He hauled her up against him and whispered in her ear.  “You tryin’ to get away from me, Dougnut Darlin’?”

He chuckled when she sagged against him in what he knew was relief.  Removing his hand from her mouth, he gently turned her around to face him.  He expected her to smile or maybe throw her arms around him. Instead, she slapped him across the face.

“You sick bastard! How dare you scare the shit out of me like that?”

Ronan winced; Raven’s comment had hit too close to home.  His mother had been a crack whore.  She never met a man she wouldn’t spread her legs for.  Ronan didn’t know who his father was any more than his mother did.  She overdosed when Ronan was sixteen.  She died the day after he got his driver’s license.  The state buried her in an unmarked grave.  He hit the road and never looked back.  Being parentless and on his own at such a tender age did something to him.  It made him hard and selfish and sometimes stupid—like now.

He raised both palms. “Hey, calm down.  I was just havin’ a little fun.”

“At whose expense? God! I wish I’d never come out here,” she said, stomping off.

Ronan blew out an exasperated breath.  “Wait, Raven.”  His words came out as a command instead of a request.  He wasn’t any good at apologizing, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to beg her to come back. 

She whirled on him.  “How’d you know my name? Better yet, how did you know my address?” she asked warily.