Road to Peace (2 page)

Widowed young, Maisie Mann was left to raise her daughter alone. Now, nine years later, she thinks she might have life as a single mom mastered…until her car breaks down on the wrong side of town. All she requires is a little roadside assistance and she’ll be on her way. But when her help comes in the form of a gruff but alluring biker, it sparks emotions she hasn’t experienced since her husband died.

Connor ‘Hatch’ Wallace is nobody’s hero. The Sergeant-at-Arms for the Dogs of Fire MC has a bitter past and has sworn off anyone threatening his independence. But fate has other ideas.

Maisie has no intention of getting involved with a man like Hatch and, despite her overwhelming attraction to him, pushes him away… until her life, and that of her child, are threatened.

Is Maisie’s only chance of survival in the hands of a badass biker?

Will Hatch be able to put aside his past and protect a woman and her daughter at the risk of losing everything?

Hey, T.M.

I won’t “out” you to the masses, but never leave a fellow woman stranded, and never do it to an author…you’ll end up in a book!

Maisie

I
WALKED OUT of Lonnie’s salon and into the blaring heat of an unusually hot Pacific Northwest April. Squinting against the brightness, I slid my sunglasses on and headed to the Chinese restaurant next door for some takeout. Ten minutes later, order in hand, I was ready to go home and soak in the tub. It had been a long day and I needed a little down time. Only, when I climbed into my car, slid the key in the ignition, and turned… nothing happened.

“What the—?” I tried again, but still nothing, so I climbed out and looked around. Lonnie’s lights were off, the closed sign hung on the door, and the parking lot was all but empty. “Just great,” I said, and groaned.

I considered going back into the Chinese restaurant for help, but I’d had to repeat my order three times, so I had little faith they’d be able to understand my request for a jump. I grabbed my cell and called Triple A.

“Roadside Assistance, how may I help you?”

“Well, I’m in Orchards and I have a dead battery,” I said.

“No problem, we can send someone out. What’s the address?”

I rattled off my location, gave her my card number and other pertinent information.

“We can have someone out to you in about an hour.”

“Really? Nothing sooner?”

“No, sorry. We’re really busy today.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

I sighed and hung up, turning to find Lonnie walking out of her shop. “Hey, Maisie. You’re still here?”

“I have a dead battery. I called Triple A, but if you have a minute, would you mind giving me a jump, please?”

“No, sorry, I actually have to be somewhere.”

I stared at her, so shocked by her unwillingness to help me I couldn’t even form a response. It would take maybe five minutes to jump my battery. I’d been loyal to her for more than ten years, even following her to this crappy part of town, and she couldn’t take five minutes to help me? I think my mouth was still slightly agape as I watched her climb into her car and drive off, smiling (and waving) at me as she passed.

God! I’d just given her a thirty-percent tip. Not to mention, I always sent her a Christmas card (even though she
never
reciprocated) and even sent her a gift on her birthday. Not cool!

I sighed and leaned against my car, scanning the area. I lived and worked in downtown Portland and only ever came up here for my hair needs. But there had to be someone around who could help me so I wouldn’t be stuck here for another hour.

I walked a few feet away from my car and looked around.
Bingo.
A little hole-in-the wall mechanic’s garage was across the busy street and three doors down. Concerned they wouldn’t be open, or would be manned by grease monkeys who liked to take advantage of women in need of automotive services, I shuddered, but trudged toward the shop anyway. If they were open, I figured they’d probably be able to help me, but if they weren’t willing, then I’d give them a nasty Yelp review. I should probably do that to Lonnie, but wasn’t entirely sure I was quite that brave. It took me years to find her.

* * *

Hatch

Connor ‘Hatch’ Wallace dumped an armload of parts onto the front counter of Bruce’s Specialty Auto Services, and pulled out his clipboard to check them off. His buddy’s shop was one of several he’d made deliveries to today, but luckily it was the last and the least amount… it meant he’d been able to carry everything in his saddlebags of his Harley Fat Boy. The day was too nice to be locked in a cage. He’d needed to ride. And now he wanted beer and pussy, not necessarily in that order, but he had to wait ’til he got back to the compound to enjoy either.

“Hatch!”

“Yeah?” he called back, still scribbling on the order sheet.

“Hot one comin’.”

Hatch glanced up to see a woman navigating the intersection and heading toward them. She wore a fitted light-blue blouse, tight, white jeans that hugged her shapely legs, and heels that looked like they cost more than his bike. Her long, blonde hair hung in straight sheets, but as a gust of wind caught her locks, she had to fight to keep the strands out of her face. She slid her sunglasses on top of her head, pulling her hair away from her face and Hatch’s breath left his body. She was like the first ray of sunshine after the rain. Damn, she was a knockout.

She walked into the tiny customer area and gave him a tentative smile. “Hi,” she breathed out. “My battery’s dead and Triple A’s going to be a while. Is there someone here who’d be willing to give me a jump?”

Hatch’s dick took notice of her sweet, British accent.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll jump you. Anytime, anyplace,” Bruce said, and Hatch watched her step back slightly, her face a little paler than before. For whatever reason, Bruce’s dirty innuendo made Hatch want to beat the shit out of his old friend.

“Piss off, Bruce,” Hatch ordered quietly, then turned to face her. He was shocked by a sudden need to protect her, but he planned to help her and get her the hell out of his space. He needed a woman to protect as much as he needed a hole in the head, but he did have a sister and he’d never leave a woman stranded. “I’ll get you goin’ again. Where are you parked?”

She pointed to the parking lot across the street. “Just over there.”

“Bruce, where’s your portable jump pack?”

Bruce grabbed it from the back room and handed it to Hatch.

Hatch smiled at the woman and nodded. “I’ll follow you.”

“Thank you.”

“Be back, Bruce.” Hatch nodded to the clipboard on the desk. “Sign off on the delivery so I can get out of here, yeah?”

“No problem, Hatch.”

Hatch followed the woman to her car and she popped the hood, sliding inside the car to start it. After hooking up the jumper cables, he called out, “Okay, turn the key.”

After several tries, they were still unable to get the Lexus going. She joined him at the front of the car with a sigh. “It’s not the battery, is it?”

“Nope.” He dipped his head further inside and checked all the cables before facing her. “Do you mind if I check your fuse?”

“I don’t know where that is, but sure.”

He opened the front door, pried open the fuse panel and pulled out the troublesome little buggar. “Your ignition fuse is blown.”

“Crap,” she said. “Please tell me you have one in the shop.”

“It’s my buddy’s shop, so I’m not sure, but give me a minute and I’ll find out.”

She nodded and Hatch called Bruce. “Hey man, you bang her yet?”

Hatch turned away from the woman with a scowl. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. She’s got a blown fuse. You got one over there or not?”

“Depends on what car.”

“Ma’am?” Hatch asked. “Your car’s a 2015, right?”

“Maisie.”

“Sorry?”

She smiled. “My name’s Maisie. I’d rather that than ‘ma’am,’ and yes, my car is a 2015.”

Hatch forced himself not to react to the fuckin’ sexy ass name attached to the fuckin’ sexy ass woman as he rattled off the information to Bruce. But hell if he wouldn’t be conjurin’ up her image as he fucked some other pussy later on that night, wishin’ her sexy-ass voice was callin’ his name as she came.

“Yeah, I think I got one,” Bruce said. “Let me find it and I’ll bring it by.”

Hatch hung up and slid his phone in his pocket. He closed the hood of the car and turned to Maisie. “Bruce is lookin’ for your part and then we’ll get you on your way.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Despite her obvious politeness and confidence, there was a sadness about her. “You’ve kind of been my knight in shining armor today, I must say. I’ll just give Triple A a ring and cancel.”

Hatch nodded and she pulled out her cell phone, canceling the truck just as Bruce jogged over, part in hand. Hatch replaced the fuse and Maisie’s car started without issue.

“You’re all set,” Hatch said.

“Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“Sixt—” Bruce started to say.

“Nothin’,” Hatch interrupted.

“You deserve to be paid for your time,” Maisie countered.

“It’s all good,” he said. “Just drive carefully.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Hatch… and, ah, Bruce is it?” she said.

Bruce’s head bobbed up and down like the douchebag he was, but Maisie didn’t seem to notice, her million-dollar smile back on her face. “Thank you again.”

She climbed in her car and took off, giving them a sexy little wave as she headed toward the freeway.

“Fuck me, that woman was fine,” Bruce sang out.

“Shut the hell up, Bruce,” Hatch ground out.

“You gonna pay for that part?”

“Yeah, man, I’ll pay for the fucking part.”

They headed back to the shop where Hatch grabbed his shit, climbed on his Harley, and headed for the only place he could get the beautiful woman out of his head.

* * *

Maisie

“I’m sorry?” Alison, my best friend and business partner, snapped over the speaker. “She just left you there?”

“Um, yes,” I said, and guided my car onto the freeway. Alison had called just as I hit I-5 and was now on hands-free.

“Who does that?” she continued. “It’s woman code, bitch. Never leave your sister behind.”

“I know! And I gave her a thirty-percent tip!”

“Did you annihilate her and then tell her you were never coming back?”

“No,” I admitted. “I was so in shock I lost my words for a period of time.”

“Your British politeness was a hindrance wasn’t it?”

I smiled. “You may have a point.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because it would have taken you an hour just to get over the bridge. I figured Triple A would be faster and in the end, the nice but scruffy man who helped me was even faster.”

“Mmmm, scruffy good or scruffy bad?”

I thought about that question for a second. Mr. Hatch had long, dark hair, pulled back into a partial ponytail, which was sexy as heck, and his beard was full and slightly peppered with grey, but not out of control. He obviously manscaped, which a woman like me appreciated. “Scruffy good.” I nodded. “Definitely good.”

Ali giggled. “Only
you
would meet some hot guy after blowing a fuse.”

“No doubt.” I smiled. “How’s Poppy?”

Ali was watching my twelve-year-old daughter while I took some time for me.

“She’s good.”

“Hi Mummy,” she called in the background.

“Hi Poppet.” I smiled. God, I loved that girl. “I should be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay, we’ll see you then,” Ali said.

Ali hung up and I continued down the freeway. My thoughts turned to Mr. Hatch, then almost as quickly to my very dead husband, Niall. It had been nine years, but I was still quite miffed with him for leaving me. We’d been in the States for about five years when he got cancer and beat it into remission twice.

Unfortunately, third time was the charm in the form of a nail in his literal coffin, and he was gone. We thought we had more time. We didn’t. If Ali and her cop husband, Ryan, hadn’t been there, not only would I have crumbled, the business Niall and I had built together would have as well. Much to my family’s disappointment, I had no intention of going back to England and had sent my brother home alone despite his pleas for me to join him. Even my sister Kenna, whom I was closest to, couldn’t convince me to go back. I’d needed the distance.

I could only thank God that Poppy was too young to remember, because truly, I think it would have broken her. It took me a good two years and two visits a week to a therapist to get to the point where I could get out of bed in the morning on my own. Currently, I was down to one visit a month for “maintenance.”

I was now somewhat in control of my insanity and no one could be happier than me. Or maybe Poppy. Or Ali. I sighed. Now I was even rambling in my head. Maybe I wasn’t in control after all.