Slate (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (12 page)

She looked at him, and he motioned her over, gathering the material of the shirt in his hands. “You don’t have a jacket, Charlotte. Put this on.” He pulled it over her head and held it while she tucked her arms down into the sleeves. Once she was settled into it, he pulled the hem down, stretching it tightly around her belly. He gave it a last tug and smiled at her.

“Thanks, Andy,” she said softly, looking down.

He lifted her chin with one finger, bringing her eyes up to meet his. “You are more than welcome.” He packed his bag again, asking her casually, “What were those tally marks you were making at work?”

Occupied with putting her hair up and then fastening the helmet under her chin, she answered without thinking, “The number of times people were nice to me today.” Her hand shot up to cover her mouth, and she shook her head. “Oh my God, that sounds pitiful, doesn’t it?”

“Well, I think I should return tomorrow, and we can put more marks down,” he replied, ignoring her last statement and urging her gently towards the rear of bike. He straddled it, making sure the pegs were down for her. She stepped up behind him, hands on his shoulders again. “Where to, beautiful? Your carriage requires direction.”

She giggled brightly. He hadn’t heard that often enough tonight; she needed to laugh more. “Out to the highway, left, then turn left at the first light. We’ll go until it seems like we’re headed out of town, and then turn left on the first county road.” Shaking her head, she added, “It’s several miles out on that highway, but I’ll let you know about a mile before we need to turn right onto my road.”

The bike’s headlamp illuminated the parking lot; he was amused they were the last customer vehicle. “Charlotte, I want you to know I’ve enjoyed this a lot, and the food was delicious, as promised,” he said, smiling, “but the company was even better than the food. You have been a very nice surprise.” He turned his head to see her reaction, and saw her eyes glittering with what looked like tears. Twisting his torso, he looked her fully in the face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“You are so nice, Andy. I enjoyed tonight, too. Thank you for this.” Her voice hitched. “You don’t know what it meant to me. Just...thank you.”

“No, Charlotte, thank you. I don’t often have company for my meals, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed so often, or so hard. I needed this, and the food was good, so bonus.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Her lashes drifted down to her cheek as she blinked slowly, and then she smiled at him…for him, nodding. He started the bike, holding the thought of that smile tightly as he rolled out and they were on their way.

He expected the lean now, and followed her shoulder taps for the turns onto the country highway. He took it slow; the highway wound through woods and fields, and the moonlight made everything gleam and glow beautifully. Before he knew it, she was tapping his right shoulder and holding up one finger, one mile for the road to her house…her parents’ house.

He turned onto the narrow, dark road; it wasn’t dirt, but some other material, firm beneath his wheels,
thank fuck
. She tapped his left shoulder, holding up one finger on that side. They were close to the house.

He idled down the road, pulling into the driveway of the house she indicated, a modest two-story ranch. There was a porch light on, and a dog barking in the distance; he saw a figure moving in the house, and it looked like someone was waiting up for her.

Rolling to a stop, he killed the engine and held his hand out; he liked how her grip was trusting as she allowed him to help her off. He put down the kickstand and leaned the bike, making sure it was stable.

Standing up off the bike, he turned, taking the helmet and putting it away as she pulled his shirt off over her head. It mussed up her hair, and she looked incredibly sexy like that. He could imagine seeing her laying on pillows after they had made love, looking exactly like that.
What the fuck?
he thought again.
What was his deal with this chick
?

He reached out and gently took out her hair tie, smoothing her hair down in the back. She ducked her head and stepped back, looking over his shoulder at the house. He’d heard the door open, but wasn’t going to pay attention to anything but her until he absolutely had to.

“Charlotte, did you eat yet, baby girl?” came a man’s voice, pleasant and full of care for her.

“Yes, Daddy, I ate in town,” she responded, and Andy heard the smile in her voice.

“Bring your friend in, sweetie. The skeeters are getting bad,” her dad called, and the door closed gently.

“Andy, would you like to come inside?” she asked, already stepping away and seeming to assume he would rather be anywhere than here.

He said, “Yes, I’d like to meet your dad,” and saw the shock in her face.

He reached down and took her hand in his, winding his fingers between hers. “If that’s okay with you, Charlotte. I don’t want to intrude if I’m unwanted.”

Her eyes glanced up at his. “I want you…I mean, you are welcome, Andy. Please, come in.”

He nodded and smiled at her blush he could see even in the dark, and they walked to the house hand-in-hand. A man he assumed her father was sitting in a recliner watching TV. He saw Andy and stood, walking over with his hand out. “Randall,” he introduced himself, “Randall Stevens.”

“Andy Jones,” he replied, and they shook hands carefully.

“Come in, sit down,” Randall invited. “Would you like anything to drink?”

Andy shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.” He looked at Charlotte, letting her lead him into the room; she moved towards the couch against the wall, perching along the cushion’s edge on one side. He settled into the seat beside her, and his movements unbalanced her, tipping her over backward with a squeal and flail of her arms.

Her head was wedged tightly where the back of the couch met the seat cushion, and she was flat
on her back. Sighing defeatedly, she laughed at herself. “I will never be able to get up again.” Then, slowly rubbing her stomach in small circles, she smiled softly, privately.

She was looking down at her belly and had pulled the fabric of her shirt tight across it. Andy watched her and saw movement under the clothing. He asked softly, “Is the baby moving?” She nodded, not taking her eyes off her belly. Even more softly, he asked, “Can I feel it? Can I touch you?”

She glanced over at him startled, and then slowly nodded, directing him, “Here, put a hand on either side; she’s stretching all over right now.”

He carefully put his hands on her belly, extremely conscious of how intimate a moment this was, and his eyes were on her face as he touched her. She smiled softly again, and Andy felt the languid movements underneath his hands. It felt like there were feet on one side and hands on the other, and the baby was slowly and lazily pushing itself back and forth. Then, there was a quick twisting movement, and the shape of her belly changed entirely, pushing up towards her full breasts, becoming longer than it was wide, and the movements stilled.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, “I felt her move. Her, right? You said her?”

She nodded at him, grinning. “She moves around a lot. I think she has too much room in there right now, but she’s growing into it every day.” His eyes flicked towards her father, and Randall was looking at them with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Her dad cleared his throat. “Andy, looked like some bags on that bike. You traveling through?”

Andy straightened, leaving his hands on Charlotte’s stomach in case the baby started moving again. “Yes, sir, I’ve been making my way across the country for more than a year now, picking up work where I can.” He looked down at her face, not wanting any mistakes or misunderstandings. “I’ve not found my place yet, so I simply keep moving. I don’t aim to stay in any one place over long.”

She nodded soberly, but Randall frowned. “What kind of work, son?”

“Oh, pretty much anything I can get. I grew up on a ranch in Wyoming, but along the way, I’ve learned some mechanicing, some carpentry, how to tend bar…I’ve been a short order cook, and a garbage separator,” he grinned at them, “but don’t ask about that one, sir. I’ve worked at loading and unloading trucks, and of course, anything to do with ranching or stock.” He laughed. “Typical Jack of all trades, master of none.”

Randall smiled at him. “Sounds like fun, actually.”

Andy grinned back at him. “It’s been exciting. I’ve met a lot of good people, interesting people, with stories all their own.”

He leaned over Charlotte, looking down into her face with a soft smile. “I’ve seen the sun come up more than four hundred different ways, and seen it disappear beyond the horizon the same. I’ve lived, with my bike to point the way.”

He looked up, and Randall was still smiling at him. “Sounds like a blast.”

Andy pulled his eyes back to her belly; the baby was moving again. He closed his eyes, feeling the movements of the vulnerable little life, separated from entering the world too soon by a narrow membrane and thin flesh.

“Charlotte, I think you are amazing,” he said impulsively. “What a gift to carry life in your body like this.” She smiled shyly, and started struggling on the couch. He realized she was trying to regain an upright position, so he stood, took her hands, and pulled her effortlessly back to her seat on the edge of the cushions. “I see now why you sit on the edge like that,” he teased.

Looking at her dad, Andy asked, “Is there a decent motel in town, Mr. Stevens?”

Randall glanced up at the clock on the fireplace mantle before replying, “Yeah, there is, but their office is closed at this time of night. Do you need a place to stay, son?”

Andy nodded. “Definitely. I learned that camping around here is somewhat treacherous, and setting up a tent at night doesn’t give you a chance to look for ant mounds.” They both laughed with him, nodding their heads.

He grimaced. “I found that one out the hard way two nights ago.” He pulled up his left sleeve, exposing the angry red and white marks of ant stings. “Guy at a bike shop in Tyler said they are fire ant bites. I can attest they certainly burned like fire. Now they just hurt.”

Charlotte looked at his arm, and then climbed laboriously to her feet; without speaking, she walked away and disappeared deeper into the house. Andy watched her leave, disappointed; she hadn’t even told him goodbye.

Frowning, he took a breath and turned back to her dad. “I’ll find a place, sir. Thank you for your hospitality.” He moved quickly towards the door, hand outstretched for the knob.

Randall got there ahead of him, placing a hand softly to hold it closed. “We have a spare room since Charlotte’s sister moved out. You’re welcome to stay here tonight, son.”

Andy looked at him, holding his gaze for a minute. “I don’t know what to say, except thank you.” He nodded and saw Charlotte coming back in with a jar and a towel. She motioned to him, and then pointed at the couch, simply saying, “Sit.”

She was clearly more comfortable here in her home than anywhere else; he hadn’t seen her with downcast eyes since they walked in. Sitting on the couch, he watched her push his sleeve up. The stings went far up his arm, and he had quite a few on his torso, too.

She frowned. “You’re staying the night.” It came out more as a statement than a question, but he nodded. “Okay, go get your stuff and bring it in. I’ll need your shirt off to get this on all the stings.” She struggled again to stand. “Let me show you the room.” Putting her supplies into one hand, she unselfconsciously reached out and snagged his hand with her other one, pulling him up the hallway.

She passed one door, muttering, “Mine,” and then stopped at the next one, simply saying, “Here,” as she pushed that door open. Reaching inside, she flipped on the wall switch, turning on the overhead light. There was a double bed covered with a faded quilt, and the bed had a bookshelf headboard filled with paperbacks. The room also had a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp.

“I’ll wait here,” she said, walking inside.

He nodded. “Okay,” he replied, smiling to himself over her refreshing self-confidence as he turned to go back to the living room.

Randall held the outside door for him, and waited with a smile as Andy walked back to the house with his backpack. “Sleep well, I’m headed up to bed; my room is on the second floor at the back of the house.”

“Sir?” Andy started and then paused. “Charlotte said she lived with her parents.” He left it like that, not quite a question.

“My wife has a room upstairs,” Randall said curtly. “She’s not well.”

“I’m sorry,” Andy said, and meant it; this must be a difficult subject from the look on his face.

Randall nodded edgily. “G’night.” Andy turned and went the other way, down the hall to the room where Charlotte waited for him.

She was sitting on the bed, watching the doorway when he walked in. He tossed his bags on the floor next to the wall, and pulled his shirt off over his head, throwing it on top of his bags. He held out his arm to her. “There are stings on my arm,” he gestured to his shoulder and ribs, “and all over here.”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and he had to close his eyes. God, that was so sexy his cock had half-risen again, and he felt the buttons of his jeans impress themselves against his hard-on.

“Sit down, Andy.” She casually patted the bed beside her. He sat down carefully and slowly, not wanting to tip her over as he had earlier on the couch. She opened the jar, tilted it cautiously onto the cloth, and then closed the jar tightly once she was satisfied with the saturation.