Authors: Cynthia Rayne
She could see an answering heat flaring in his eyes. “If I got you anywhere near a bed again, it wouldn’t be to tuck you in.”
“Oh?” she teased. “What would you do with me?” Damn, she didn’t feel like fighting this anymore. She’d had just enough alcohol to not dwell on the ramifications.
“I could tell you, but it’d be a hell of a lot more fun to show you.”
“I’ll take her home,” Duke offered, stepping up beside them.
Cowboy scowled. “The fuck you will. Why the hell are you here anyway? You ain’t got a woman at this homestead.”
“Neither do you,” Duke pointed out.
“Remember that talk we had earlier, Cowboy?” Shepherd said cryptically. “You’re going to take Lexie home instead.”
Cowboy looked like he wanted to protest, but backed off. Though he looked pissed. “Fine, I’ll take her home.”
He kissed Daisy on the forehead. “I gotta run her home, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“But I was hoping you’d come over tonight,” Daisy said, glancing at him from under her lashes. “Weren’t you going to tuck me in?”
Cowboy backed away from her fast and she could see a pained expression on his face. “Sorry, Wildcat, I got orders. He glared at Duke. “Get her home safe.”
“Sure thing, brother,” Duke drawled with a mocking little salute.
Daisy watched as Cowboy checked on Lexie, who lay on the porch, gazing up at the ceiling with a glazed expression. “Come on, Lex, let me take you back to the dorm.” He helped her to her feet and ushered her to his bike. He started it up, placed the girl on the back and took off, leaving Daisy on the lawn with Duke, Shepherd, and Eddie.
“Thank you, Cowboy!” Eddie called to him as he took off. She turned to Shepherd and Duke. “I’m drunk, but not blind. What the hell’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” Shepherd and Duke said simultaneously.
Eddie laughed. “For big bad bikers, you are both terrible liars.” But she didn’t press it and gave Daisy a quick hug. “Thanks for coming tonight. Duke can be an ass, but he’ll get you back to the hotel.” Shepherd put his arm around her and steadied her as she gingerly walked back in the house.
“Come on, let’s go,” Duke said, as he started marching towards his motorcycle.
Daisy scowled at his back. “I don’t want to ride with you.”
“Yeah? I don’t give a fuck. You better come now if you’re coming!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Or you can sleep on the lawn. Your choice.”
Daisy followed him, but it took a lot of effort, almost like the air had become thick around her body, impeding her progress, like she walked through water or something. She felt woozy too. Finally, she reached his chopper, swaying on her feet.
The biker plopped a helmet on her head and started the engine, before putting on his own helmet. She pressed a hand to her stomach. The world seemed to swirl around her, like she stood on a carousel. “I don’t feel so good.”
Duke glowered at her. “If you upchuck on me, I’ll shoot you.”
***
The next morning, Daisy’s cell phone whistled on the nightstand, signaling a text message. She groaned, and rolled over to snatch it up. She paused as pain radiated across her temples. Dammit, she shouldn’t have drunk so much last night.
Moonshine is evil. Very, tasty evil.
She didn’t remember arriving at the hotel last night, just the bike ride with Duke, and how she’d nearly tossed her cookies three times as he took turns in the road at full speed.
But evidently, he’d gotten her back here in one piece.
She threw off the covers to find herself still dressed in the jeans and shirt from last night. Thank God Duke hadn’t tried to undress her. She found it vaguely disturbing but she couldn’t remember arriving at Hades. Shaking it off, she unlocked her phone to read the text message.
Cowboy: I’m stopping by Voo’s for biscuits. Want a couple?
She wasn’t really hungry, but it might soak up the rest of the alcohol and give her some much needed energy.
Daisy: I’d love a couple. Thanks. Coffee, too?
Cowboy: You got it. See you in a few.
She stumbled to the bathroom, washed her face, brushed her teeth, took a couple of aspirin, and put on a fresh shirt. After sitting on the edge of the bed, she gathered her hair into a pony tail, but hissed as a tender spot between her shoulder blades ached.
What the hell?
Daisy flipped on the bathroom light, lifted her shirt up, and swiveled to the right, trying to see in the mirror. She couldn’t find anything on her back at all, so what had stung? Had she somehow injured herself last night? She reached up and managed to brush the place with her fingertips. Nothing.
Maybe she’d slept funny?
Shrugging, she finished putting her hair up and then stared at the cosmetic bag on the counter. She’d never been a particularly girly girl, but she’d forced herself to do the glam thing for the stripper job. Makeup wasn’t a normal part of her morning routine and she’d pretty much gotten used to using a little moisturizer and not much else.
She debated whether or not she could do with a little touch up. She shook her head, eyeing herself in the mirror. Dark circles had formed under eyes from last night’s bender, and still didn’t look quite awake. She reached for the powder and gave herself a quick coat of it, then slicked her lips with gloss.
When did I start giving a crap about looking good for a guy?
We’re only having breakfast, this isn’t a date.
But it sure as hell felt like a date.
Fifteen minutes later, she opened the door to see Cowboy standing there in Western wear. He wore a retro black and white shirt, a tight pair of Levis, and black cowboy boots, tipped with silver. A black and silver Stetson perched on his head.
“Mornin’, Wildcat,” he said, raising a brow. “You got a hangover from last night?”
“Little bit,” she admitted. “I swear won’t be having moonshine again anytime soon.” Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned the way she’d come on to him last night.
He laughed. “So they all say.” He set the white pastry box on the table by the window. He also had two large cups of coffee in a carrier and the java smelled good.
Cowboy laid everything out on napkins. The cut the biscuits in half, buttered each side and then slathered them with honey from plastic packets. She could seriously get used to biscuit breakfasts.
“These are really good,” she said, smiling at him.
“Watch yourself on the biscuits, these things are addictive. After my wife got pregnant, I used to bring her a couple every day after work.”
Her mouth fell open. She strolled right past the pregnancy/child issue and got to the cheating bastard part. “Hold up. You’re married?”
His face grew shuttered. She wondered if learning to not show emotion was part of Horsemen prospect training. “
Was
married,” he clarified. “I’m not anymore.”
She didn’t know what to make of his statement or the wave of relief that spread over her body. Other than not wanting to be perceived as the other woman, why the hell should she care if he’d been married or not?
But Cowboy seemed troubled and she got the distinct feeling he hadn’t intended to confide in her. She should probably back off and wait for him to offer up info, but her curiosity wouldn’t be denied. “Who were you married to?” she asked.
“Melissa, my high school sweetheart.”
“Tell me about her.”
He leaned back in his chair, and told her the story, without meeting her eyes, like he read aloud from a newspaper article, flat and emotionless.
“Melissa and I met our junior year of high school and we got married right after graduation. We ended up settling in Hell. She and I had this really shitty little apartment we could barely afford, but we were happy. I worked at a refinery and she got a job as a secretary for the car dealership the next town over.”
“What happened?” She had an awful feeling from his demeanor this story didn’t end in divorce. It had to be something much worse.
He gripped the cross around his neck, smoothing his fingers over it. Finally, he spoke. “It’s a long story, Wildcat. Let’s save it for another day.”
“I’m sorry I pried.”
“Don’t be. You were just curious.” He cleared his throat.
She bit her lip, thinking she should offer up a personal story to share, since he’d opened up to her. “I told you my mother died, but I didn’t tell you much about her. Her name was Sunny, short for Sunflower. She said her parents were hippies,” Daisy offered with a shrug.
He smiled. “That’s how you and Rose got your names.”
She nodded. “Anyway, I guess after my dad left her, she had a lot of debt. She never graduated from high school, and got fired from a lot of jobs. It was hard for her to find legit employment. And she met this guy, Roger, and fell hard for him.” She took a ragged breath. “She decided to become a prostitute, not even the kind in a whorehouse. My mom worked on the streets.” She could barely get the words out. She hated to think of her mother being forced to earn money selling her body.
“Damn,” Cowboy said, his face falling.
“She did the best she could do,” she said quickly. “I know she loved Rose and me, but she made some bad choices.”
“The guy she fell for, he became her pimp?” he guessed.
Daisy dipped her head. “Yeah, and I think he might be Rose’s dad, but my mom never said for sure.”
“What happened to her?” he asked.
“They found her body dumped in a field. She died of an overdose.” She sucked in a breath.
“Did they find out who did it?”
“No, but I don’t think the cops gave it a lot of effort, figured she was just another junkie hooker,” she said bitterly.
“And that’s when you and your sister went into the foster care system?”
She nodded. “My mom didn’t have a relationship with her parents, and they didn’t want custody. They didn’t even ask for visitation,” she said bitterly. “Roger never claimed Rose, and my father signed away his rights to me. So, it was just me and Rose, against the world.” She sighed. “I’m worried its happening to my sister now, Cowboy.”
“You think she’s at the brothel?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Tears threatened to fall, and she blinked them away. “I keep thinking I’m going to lose her, the way I lost my mom.”
“No, you won’t,” he promised. “
We
won’t let it happen again.” Cowboy reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
Daisy just hoped he was right.
Chapter Twelve
After she finished having breakfast with Cowboy, ran errands, and did some chores, she’d gotten ready for work.
When it was time to go, she snuck in the backdoor of the Palace and quietly made her way past the manager’s office. Junior seemed to be preoccupied. She’d heard him cursing at someone and didn’t stick around to find out who, just tiptoed past the room and kept a low profile since.
Cowboy sat in the corner of the room again. A brunette on stage stripped down to an orange and black thong, and twirled on the pole to
Eye of the Tiger
while drunken bikers watched. Again, the place was packed. Unfortunately, Unlucky had come back with a group of cronies but another waitress had gotten saddled with the table.
As she picked up two rounds of Jack from the bar, someone tapped her shoulder and nearly caused her to dump the alcohol on the floor. She set the tray down, placing a hand to her chest to quiet her galloping heart. She turned to see suit guy from the other night, Kent.
“Sorry for surprising you,” he said with a grin.
“It’s okay. I’m lost in my thoughts I guess. Can I get you something?”
His lips curved. “Actually, I came over to ask you the very same question. Will you have a drink with me this evening?”
She thought about it for a moment. He hadn’t made any moves on her and he had always been polite. She didn’t see the harm in having a drink with him in a public place. Besides, she wanted to satisfy her curiosity, see how he fit into the situation.
“I’d love to. I should be done in a couple of hours.”
“Perfect. I know just the place.” He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “I’ll collect you in exactly two hours. You can follow me in your own vehicle,” he said.
Collect her? What an odd turn of phrase.
But she nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.”
“Excellent. I will see you soon.” He walked to the other side of the club and pulled a journal from his briefcase. One of the bikers joined him at the table and they seemed to be engaged in a deep conversation.
Odd.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Things had been busy, but easy enough until about ten minutes before her shift ended. A biker two tables over crooked a finger in her direction and she reluctantly went over to take the drink order.
He had a red handkerchief wrapped around his head, and a Fu Manchu mustache. Tattoos of naked women encircled each his arms and he had a wicked-looking knife strapped to his right thigh. He grabbed her, set her down on his lap, facing him.
“Why aren’t you up on the pole, sweets? A body like yours should be shown off,” the biker said.
Sweets?
“Thanks. You’ll have to catch my act another night.” She tried to keep her body language open and receptive to any advance he wanted to make. Hard to do, when you were irritated. “Can I get you somethin’ to drink, honey?” she said coyly.
She’d found being playful and bubbly put men at ease. The hard-edged approach with Unlucky had blown up in her face. The new strategy seemed to be working.
“Nope, I’m good.” He placed a hand on her stomach.
While the waitress uniform wasn’t exactly conservative, it thankfully concealed more than her stripperwear. Though, she still felt nearly naked. She shifted uncomfortably and his hold on her hips tightened.
“You are new here, huh?” he asked.
“Yep. What’s your name?”
“Woody,” he replied, as he ran a hand along the line of pink lace of her underwear, peeking over the top of her short shorts. “Mmm, sweets, those are sexy panties.”
“So, um, since I’m new, I thought you could fill me in a little,” she said. There’s a lot I don’t know and you seem like a man who could teach me.” She kept her eyes wide and trusting.