Reprise (26 page)

He grinned. “How’d you know you were going to get lucky?”

One of her eyebrows cocked. “Me? I always get lucky when I want to.”

He chuckled and pulled the edge of the plastic curtain back to find a wrapped condom right where she’d said. He had it on in an instant, then was back against her warm, soft and now slippery body.

Her arms came around his shoulders, her face tilting up to accept his hungry kiss. Her tongue rolled and slid with his, and such was their routine that he was back inside her without registering her legs wrapping around him or the fact that he’d pressed her to the wall. It was just...home.

No one had ever felt better than this.

“Oh God, God. Harlon.”

He loved the sound of desperation in her tone, how it wrapped around his name like a plea. Her hips were working with his, their dance perfect.

“God Mallory, I’ve always missed this.”

She whimpered.

“No one’s ever been half as perfect.”

“Harlon.”

“Don’t know what I was thinking leaving you. This is the only place I should have been.”

“Harlon!”

He buried his face in the side of her neck, wincing as her nails cut into his shoulders and her body tightened up. Just like that she came undone, crying out so loud it rung in his ears. But he loved it.

“You’ve always been the one for me,” she whispered, right in his ear. “I know that you got scared. I even forgave you for it. But don’t ever hurt me like you did this last time.”

“I won’t,” he breathed, pulling back to gaze in those eyes. “As long as I can, I’ll take care of you.”

Her brow furrowed, but then he was back to thrusting into her and her eyelids fluttered. He knew he’d ended the conversation with that so he concentrated on her body, the way it cushioned him, the grip she had on his cock. It took only a few more minutes before she was keening out his name and he was groaning against her neck again.

In silence they untangled, and he moved her to the front of the tub to get her shower time in. Outside the shower curtain he got rid of the condom and rinsed off in the sink.

The humidity was thick in the room, and as another damn coughing fit took over he struggled to keep the sound of it down. Phlegm filled his mouth and when he leaned down to spit his back protested. Damn, he was getting old.

The deep red hitting the bowl of the sink was a shock. It was only then he could taste the blood.

In a panic he turned the cold tap, rinsed the blood from the sink and stooped further to fill his mouth. He rinsed and spat twice.

Thank God that had happened now, not in the shower. Having Mallory see that would be disastrous.

Chapter Twenty-One

After her quick shower Mal braided her wet hair, toweled off best she could with the thin motel linens and went through the plastic Walmart bags she’d left in the bathroom the night before. Clean underwear, right out of the Hanes package, yoga pants, and a T-shirt under her hoodie. She still looked ready to do housework but at least she was put together and felt human again.

Before opening the bathroom door she paused, suddenly feeling unsure. Letting Harlon whisk her off to safety was easy to do. He’d done it before, then he’d left her behind.

God, she was twenty again and wanting to believe him. She wanted that more than anything. She was smarter than this. She’d been swept up by thugs who’d killed those kidnappers and then handed her over to Harlon’s care.
That
was the man on the other side of the door now; the kind that had friends that shot people for the good of others.

Well, that took care of that concern. She had no choice, and not just because she was scared of Cleary. She wasn’t going to be looked after by a bunch of bikers for however long. But...here she was, letting a biker take care of her.

So she was either stupid or enjoyed the kind of heartbreak that Harlon Gray could dish out.

As she left the bathroom he was sitting in one of the fake leather chairs, gazing out the window at what was a gray and overcast day. When he turned to look at her he grinned, and it crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes. “Hey,” he said, his voice deep and warm.

It softened her uncertainty, which only proved how stupid she was.

“I was thinking we should eat. The restaurant on the main floor does a good breakfast.”

She glanced at the alarm clock’s digital display. “It’s almost lunch.”

“Yeah, but we just woke up. And after a shower like that I feel like bacon and eggs.”

Now she
did
blush, and it was a ridiculous reaction but mentioning things like that always made her blush. Which he knew. Only him, though. Any other man she’d been with could bring up an escapade and she’d just laugh.

“That
does
sound good,” she mumbled, setting down her white trash luggage on the foot of her bed.

He chuckled, and that made the blush worse. That chuckle tickled the inside of her stomach as surely as his beard tickled the skin.

“Then we can hit the road. We’ll be arriving in Markham before dinner.”

She nodded. As far as things had gone recently, spending part of December in California shouldn’t be seen as a hardship. Truthfully, this
did
feel safer than Cleary. No one was kidnapping her. Actually, her captor in this instance had given her amazing sex in the shower just minutes ago. Sex that she had gone in and asked for.

He lent her his phone to call work, then Matt. The bakery folks were understanding, told her to take a few days. They’d heard of something happening the night before, but there weren’t a lot of details. Matt was properly worried but he promised to cancel the gig at the bar that night.

Harlon checked them out of the room, with a lot of knowing gazes from the desk clerk since they’d only been there less than six hours, and her new threads were stowed in the truck. Then Harlon took her hand and led her to the diner.

Walmart yoga pants or not, that made her feel like something precious.

He held her hand while she slid into a booth then he sat across from her. He turned their mugs over and handed her a menu, eyes on his own laminated sheet as he did so.

There was no way she could avoid staring at him. As much as it sucked that they hadn’t had these past twenty-nine years together, she had him now. And she liked it.

“You know what you want?” he mumbled, looking up and catching her examination. “What’s wrong?”

“I just...I want this to be the real thing. The you that is here right now...I want that to actually be you.”

He smiled, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes, showing off perfect teeth. “It’s me, honey. This is me, not scared. Realizing I want you with me, rather than me hurting you.”

“You were scared for me last night.”

“Yeah, I really was.”

Honesty. She liked that, too. He’d had that with her before. He’d say what was on his mind and in his heart. It was usually
her
that had trouble opening up, but he never had trouble with that, either. Like he knew her thoughts anyway.

“I’m glad you came for me.”

He grinned again and she smiled back, just as the waitress arrived with a steaming carafe of coffee. Tiny nodded to their cups and the waitress filled both then moved on.

Tiny tapped her menu. “Decide what you want honey. We gotta get on the road. You made that shower a little too long.”

She made a noise of protest which made him chuckle. He’d always been bossy, but thinking back on that shower she really didn’t mind letting him get away with it.

The next pass the waitress made they ordered their bacon and eggs, then settled in to wait for their food quietly. He caught her hands in his, thumb running over the back.

“I don’t know how to work this,” he said softly, eyes on their hands. “You in Cleary, me in California. But however long and however often we get to be together...I want to be with you. Like we were.” Now his eyes came up and her breath caught. “Some of my best days, honey. I want to have more of them, however we make that work.”

Her grip tightened in his. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can figure out...something.”

“Good.” He sounded relieved, then he leaned to one side and dug in his back pocket. “Sorry. That’s the club phone.”

She nodded and took a sip of coffee, rather than letting her fluttering heart turn her into a ridiculous mess.

“Tiny,” he grumbled, sounding like he did around other people. It almost made her choke on her coffee. “What? That’s tonight?”

She frowned.

“Shit. Right. I forgot.” He rubbed his brow and sighed heavily, then dropped his hand and caught her eye. He smiled. “Yeah, we’ll be back by then. I guess I’ll miss all the decorating, with the old ladies bossing me around?”

She took another sip of coffee as he ended the call. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just...I forgot it was decorating day at the clubhouse.”

“Decorating day?”

He smiled again. “They put up a tree and decorate for Christmas. A family affair.”

She frowned. “What’s the date?”

He did the same. “I don’t know. The twenty-second?”

“Is it really?” She winced. “Shit. I’m not ready for Christmas at all.”

“What do you usually do?”

“Well,” she sighed, flipping her braid back over her shoulder. “Usually the people who own the bakery downstairs invite me over for supper on Christmas Day. Then the next day the hotel bar usually has a big party, and we play that. It’s a big drunk, and then the band usually gets shitfaced after that, too.” His smile had faded while she spoke. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No, what was the look on your face?”

“Nothing, Mal. I just realized your mom’s been gone a little while and your dad...”

She swallowed hard. “Why? Have you been spending all those Christmases past with your family? Because I haven’t seen you around town.”

His back straightened and the smile was gone. “Yeah, I spend Christmas with my family in Markham. Every year.”

She shrank back at his sharp tone. “Sorry.”

“No, shit.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pity you. That’s really...hypocritical.”

“I’m not saying my life is great but, it’s what I’ve got.”

“I love my life,” he said, sounding like an apology. “I really do. My brothers are my family. But I admit, when I’m falling asleep after turkey and pie and all that Christmas baking, I think of you and Angie. And how great all those Christmases would have been.”

Again with the nose prickles. “Me too.”

“She would have been—”

“Twenty-eight,” Mallory finished.

He let out a deep breath. “Shit. We could have been grandparents.”

She sniffled and had to grab a napkin.

“Shit, sorry Mal. I’ll stop talking.”

“I think that all the time. She could have had a baby of her own by this point.”

His eyes went to the window, to the view of the parking lot. There was water in his eyes too, and she had to look away.

They were quiet until the food arrived, and they ate without talking, too. Then when they walked quietly to the truck he took her hand again, his grip tight.

-oOo-

The sun was down by the time they pulled into the clubhouse lot. The lot was full of bikes and a few small SUVs, which provided an odd juxtaposition for who she already knew would be inside the clubhouse. Bikes and family vehicles.

Again he held her hand, tugging her a bit closer as they got to the door. As he grabbed the handle Tiny kissed her quickly. Before she could ask why he did that he opened the door and they walked into...

Madness. Absolute madness.

There was loud Christmas music playing. Voices were raised, people were shouting and laughing. There were kids running around, too—Libby and Jayce Junior were the only two she eventually recognized.

“Merry Christmas, Mal!” Fritter came running up to them, nearly manically happy, a headband with some kind of dangly on it, hanging right in front of his forehead. Too late she recognized it as mistletoe, and then he was suddenly laying a loud kiss on her mouth—mostly to the side, to be honest—before he grabbed Harlon to do the same to him.

Well, he tried. But Harlon showed him hard enough to detach and Fritter just grinned, flicking the mistletoe with a grin. “Aren’t these great?”

Harlon frowned, then brought Mal to his side. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, wiping her face. “He kinda missed my mouth. Mostly.”

“Where’s Sharon? Shouldn’t you be using that mistletoe on her?”

Fritter turned to survey the room. “Where
is
my woman? She was putting shit on the tree with Adeel.”

“Go find her,” he growled inelegantly, then steered Mal into the building.

The place was warm, and even if it was a biker hangout she felt totally underdressed. Everyone else looked really nice, even the kids were wearing their Sunday duds.

“I’m not wearing the right thing,” she muttered, turning to Harlon.

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at how I’m dressed. I should be washing windows.”

He smiled, kissed her again, and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Mal.”

Maybe it was silly. After all, she’d been kidnapped. And he’d forgotten about the event himself, but then they stopped so he could pull on his leather vest like the one the others were wearing and she realized they dressed the same all the time.

“Look at this figure. I’d know you anywhere, Mal.”

Arms from behind her wrapped her up in a big hug, and she gave a squeak as she was lifted off her feet.

“Put her down,” Harlon grumbled and she was set back on her feet. She whirled on her attacker, and it turned out to be Knuckles. He was wearing one of those ridiculous mistletoe headbands, too, and he grabbed her before she could avoid him. His kiss was square on the mouth but definitely chaste. When he released her she was laughing, even though Harlon shoved his shoulder.

“Fuck off with that. I’m done with everyone kissing my woman.”

Knuckles grinned. “Don’t be jealous. It’s not like I gave her any tongue.”

“Thank God,” she mumbled as Harlon put an arm around her shoulders again.

“Babe, you wouldn’t be able to handle it,” Knuckles promised in all seriousness.

“Go grab an available woman and leave us alone,” Harlon suggested.

“I just had an idea.” Knuckles removed the headband from his temples and tucked it down the front of his pants so the mistletoe was hanging in front of his fly. Then he waggled his eyebrows.

“Fucking grow up,” Harlon groused, but even that sounded like he was laughing. “There’s kids around.”

Knuckles moved the headband to its appropriate place. “You’re right. But later...” Then he was off with a wink.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping with all this?” she asked the man holding onto her like she was expensive property.

“I guess,” he sighed, stretching to look around over the heads of a mostly cramped room.

“Who are all these people?” she had to ask. The faces she recognized from the funeral made up maybe a tenth of the attendants.

“Friends, hang arounds and their families. We have them all over for the decorating party, then for a dinner on Christmas Eve, too.”

“That’s really cool.”

“Yeah. Then on Christmas Day we have a supper at the soup kitchen.”

She turned in surprise. “Really?”