Reinventing Mel: A Hellion MC Novel (34 page)

I snapped my eyes back to his and saw his were guarded.  He was on to me, and I couldn't shake him off.

"Your name?" he prompted, breaking the silence that had descended.  A silence that wasn't comfortable in the least.  "And the truth this time."

I stared at him, doing a bit of measuring and assessing myself. 

Could I trust him?

I reviewed the hours I'd been with him, trying to find a chink or a crack in any of our interactions that showed me he was looking to profit from my 'problem'.  The way he'd held me during my freak-out over the storm was the part that swayed me as well as the bit at the truck stop in hiding my hair. 

While I couldn't trust him completely, I was willing to take a small risk.

"Reese," I said finally, and I felt the tension in my shoulders release a bit as I spoke.  "I won't give you my last name, but my real, first name is Reese."

"Reese," he repeated and I loved the little burr on the 'R' when he said my name.  The way he said it made my plain, old everyday first name sound sexy and mysterious.

"Yeah," I said, ducking my head and tucking my hands between my knees.  This honesty shit was scary.

"Are you running, Reese?" he asked with a head tilt.

"Yeah," I admitted quietly, feeling my heart beat hard within my chest.  I still wasn't 100% sure he wasn't working for
him,
even though Bayco was way better than any of the others that I'd had run-ins with before.

"Do you need help?" he asked, his voice almost a low growl in the quiet of the park.  I turned my head and saw the baseball game was breaking up.  This question was harder to answer than the other ones.  But it wasn't
me
asking
him
for help.  Rather it was him asking if he could help me. 

A big difference. 

Huge in the fact that for once in my life, someone other than my mama was trying to give aid.  And it was a man who was doing the asking.  In my life, in the few times I'd actually tried to request it, I'd either been laughed at or found that the male version of help only seemed to help them—never me.

I swallowed thickly before I nodded, crossing my fingers underneath the table. 

He blinked slowly.  "I want to hear the words, Reese."

"I need help, Bayco," I muttered.

"How old are you, draga?" he asked, his voice still quiet and deep.

"Twenty-one and what's that name you called me?  That 'draga' thingie?" I answered and glanced at his face, catching his look of doubt.  "What?  You don't believe me?  It's the truth!"

"You look and act so much younger," he said thoughtfully after a thorough study of my face.  "Since you seem unsure of your name, I gave you one of my own."

I let what he said settle around me and felt my eyes narrow as I thought.

"How old are you, then?" I asked and felt my chin jut at my question, making it more like a challenge.

"Twenty-five," he answered without hesitation and without breaking eye contact.

It was my turn to be shocked.  He was only twenty-five?  No, that couldn't be right.  I studied his face.  Maybe it wasn't so much his looks that made me think he was so much older.   His attitude?  His calm, his control, in spite of everything?

"I, ah, I thought you were a lot older," I stammered.  He lifted one eyebrow in question.  "Not, like, old-old But you know, like thirty-old."

I got a dual eyebrow lift at my explanation.   I decided to shut up since I was only making it worse as I tried to explain.  At that, the lights, which had dimly lit our wooden rectangle, went out.

I heard him sigh from across the table as my eyes tried to adjust.  All I could see was the shadow of him in the street lights that encircled the park.

"I am tired, Reese, although I need to get home quickly.  We will find a place to stay and sleep for a few hours.  Then we will continue our journey and our talk," he said and I could hear the exhaustion in his voice. 

Hey, wait a second. 

Who was he to be making decisions about what 'we' were going to do?  As a matter of fact, when did the two of us become a 'we' anyway?  I opened my mouth to disagree but before I could, he spoke over me and my mutinous thoughts.

"Please do not argue with me, Reese.  I am tired and sore and short-tempered."

Although I wanted to say a lot more, I shut my mouth and simply followed him to the motorcycle.  My arguments could wait for another time.

Dedication

As ever this book is dedicated to my progeny—you know who you are, especially for listening when mom starts talking about people that aren't even real!

And to Jennifer Guffey.  A reader who took the time to email me and ASK for the Hellion Series after reading Hiding in Plain Sight.  I can't thank you enough, Jennifer!

Hat's off to Laura Kingsley, my editor and Faustino Gaitan, my book cover designer.  You two are helping me learn how to be a professional author instead of a girl that just types out some books about love.

And to you, dear reader.  For taking a chance on a new author and sticking with her as she is still learning and growing.  It really means a lot!

For those of you that have been with me on this journey, thanks for the memories!

For those of you still on your way, where've you been?  My heart's been waiting for you!

Author Bio - J.A. Hornbuckle

Aren't we all curious about the person who wrote the story we read?   I know I am.

Here's what I know about myself:

·
        
I love red wine

·
        
Live music gives me tingles no matter what style

·
        
Muscled, long-haired men are my own personal kryptonite

·
        
I can't deal with the cold which is why I live in Phoenix, Arizona

Of course that's just the tip of the ice-berg!

At first meeting me, people think I'm somber and a little stand-offish.  I'm really not.  It's a case of my outsides not matching my insides.  Because there's a freaking party in my head almost twenty-four seven.

I'm old enough to know better but still young enough to do it anyway (...the best part of aging is that you know the CONSEQUENCES of your actions and weigh the internal scales accordingly!)

I love writing, especially romances but only where the 'man' portion is a part of the ro-man-ce word.  And...I believe, really do have faith, that there are happily-ever-afters and hope you do too.

Feel free to contact me:

Email:
  [email protected]

Website:
  http://www.jahornbuckle.com  (Be sure to sign up for my newsletter!)

Facebook:
  J-A-Hornbuckle

Twitter:
  @JAHornbuckle

GoodReads:
  J A Hornbuckle

Other Books by J.A. Hornbuckle

Pole Dance

Human Hieroglyphix I

Tap Dance

Human Hieroglyphix II

Everybody Falls

Bewitchments

Hiding in Plain Sight

A Grantham Christmas

The Possibility of Trey

Reinventing Mel

Taking a Dare (coming soon)