Snowbound with the Biker (Holiday Encounters Book 2) (3 page)

I blew out a breath, leaned my cheek on my fist and clicked to open Ken’s email folder.

When my phone rang not five minutes later, I was more than ready for the distraction.

I peeked at the number and grinned as I hit the accept button. “Hi, Mom!”

“Hi, honey. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

My grin turned into a wide smile at her words. No need to wonder where I got the niceness gene. “No, Mom, mostly everyone went to lunch. I’m happy to have the excuse to take a break.”

“Oh, good. Listen, sweetie,” my mom’s voice came out in the same tone she’d used when my grandmother passed away, “I have some bad news.”

An enormous lump pushed its way into my throat and I clutched the phone. “Is everyone okay? Is it Logan?”

“Oh, no, everyone’s fine. Your brother’s fine. I heard from him on New Year’s.”

Something inside me eased a bit. With Logan stationed in Afghanistan, I always worried when I hadn’t heard from him in a while.

“So what’s going on, Mom?”

“It’s just that…well, you see, honey…” A deep sigh came through the line. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I left your father.”

I flew ramrod straight on the edge of my seat. “Wh-what?”

“I know it comes as a shock,” she said.

I had no words. Shock didn’t even begin to cover it. My mom left my dad. My mom whose picture could be put in the dictionary under homemaker. My mom who could give Betty Crocker a run for her money. My mom who spent my childhood catering to the every need of my brother, my father and me.

She left my father.

“Say something, Katydid.”

My childhood nickname pulled me out of my head. “Mom, I don’t know what to say. You really left Dad? How? I mean, why did you…”

She sighed. “I spent all those years taking care of your dad. I worked two jobs when he was in college. Once he went to work, I quit my jobs and stayed home to take care of him and then you and your brother. I always thought, all those years…I thought once you two were grown, it would be my turn. I could follow my dreams and…” She trailed off and several seconds of silence followed.

I sank back onto my chair, dipping my head low. “What was your dream, Mom?”

“I always thought I’d be good at something in healthcare. Maybe a therapist or a nurse or something like that. I volunteered in a nursing home when I was younger and I really loved helping there.”

“You would be wonderful at any of those things,” I said. And it was true. My mom was a born caregiver.

“Don’t get me wrong. I always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and take care of my family. I know how blessed I’ve been.”

“But?”

“But once you and Logan grew up and moved out, there wasn’t so much for me to do. I mean, how many times can I vacuum the house a day?”

Hmm, before this minute if my mom had asked that question, my answer would have been a hundred and seven. There’d been no doubt in my mind that she lived to vacuum and dust and iron our clothes. But clearly, my mom didn’t live to clean. She lived to take care of other people.

“So you’ve been bored the last few years?” I prompted.

“I guess. I tried volunteering, and that was fine, but then I saw what you’ve accomplished and it got me to thinking.”

“Me? What have I accomplished?”

“You went to college and graduated and found the job you wanted and you’re getting your Master’s degree.”

“I don’t know if this is the job I wanted,” I mumbled.

“You know what I mean.” My mom’s sigh floated through the phone, loaded down with exhaustion and something else. “I want something more. And I always thought if I was just patient, my turn would come.”

I swallowed hard. Mom’s words sounded an awful lot like my own earlier thoughts.

“So can’t you have more with Daddy?” I asked, my voice just barely above a whisper.

“I talked to your Dad about it. He wouldn’t listen. When I mentioned going back to school, he asked if it would interfere with planning the charity auction his company does every year. I swear, he doesn’t even see me as a person anymore. I’m the thing that makes sure his dinner gets to the table every night and his socks and underwear get washed and folded and put in his drawers.”

“Oh, Mom.” My heart squeezed at her words. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way. I know we have a tendency to take you for granted, and you’ve done everything for us.”

My mom clicked her tongue impatiently. “You never made me feel that way. I love taking care of my family. But most of my family is grown and gone and taking care of themselves these days. And now it’s my turn. Only your dad doesn’t see it that way. When he asked about how my going to school would affect him, it hit me. If I want my chance at more, I’m going to have to take it. I can’t wait around for someone else to give it to me. I could be dead before that happens.”

I slumped in my desk chair, my phone clutched to my ear. Mom could be talking about me. My mom was in her fifties and she’d waited more than half her life for someone else to recognize all her good deeds and give her a chance at more. And it never came.

As my mom told me the arrangements she made to get an apartment and start looking for a job, I sat there shell-shocked. And a little niggling voice in the back of my head got louder the longer my mom talked.

I didn’t want to find myself middle-aged and still waiting for something more for my life.

What the hell am I waiting for?

I sat at my desk after my mom hung up, trying to absorb the shock of her news, worrying about my dad, and turning that question over and over in my head—what am I waiting for? The memory of sitting on the New Jersey transit train back into the city with Jade, Emma and Paige on Thanksgiving mingled with those thoughts. Jade and Paige and I had been so determined to get Emma out of her rut, and we all pointed out how our own lives were lacking to get her to agree.

At the time, I hadn’t let myself think about it too hard, but my complaints about my job and lack of a life suddenly rang true. Just like my mom, I kept waiting for something to happen, for someone to hand me something because I worked so hard and kept my mouth shut.

But what if this was it? What if being nice and hard working wasn’t enough? Was I going to settle for what life handed me until I woke up one morning at fifty-five wondering when my turn would come?

At some point, I’d have to deal with my parents’ separation and talk to my dad and my brother. But right now, the only thing I could do was wonder if I’d gotten it all wrong.

Enough
. Time to answer the question already. What was I waiting for?

I closed my eyes and suddenly, just like on New Year’s Eve, just like in every dream I’d had this week, a face popped up in my mind.

Hunter Lawson.

Only this time I didn’t shake it off. I let his image fill my head. And as I thought of him, an idea formed. I was going to get out of my rut. I was going to stop waiting for good things to come to me. I was going to win the bet.

And who better to help me win than Hunter? I’d watched from my window countless times as he jumped on his motorcycle and rode off. How many times had I wished I was on the seat behind him, my arms wrapped around his waist, my face pressed to his back?

Before I could think better of it, I snatched the sticky pad from my desk drawer and wrote a terse note explaining I’d had a family emergency and needed to leave early. I slapped it on Ken’s door and took a brief moment to gleefully picture his face when he saw it and realized he might have to do some of his own tedious work for a change.

I grabbed my purse and coat and headed for the elevators. Sue stepped off as I stepped on.

“Headed for lunch?” she asked.

I grinned and shook my head. “Nope, I decided to let Ken do his own work today. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

As the elevator doors slid closed, Sue’s chuckle and the words “Good for you, girl” floated in. I smiled and my stomach rippled with a combination of excitement and nerves.

I was going to see Hunter Lawson, the man of my dreams. For once I was going to stop being Miss Nice Girl and go after what I wanted.

***

After the two-hour train ride from Grand Central Station and scrounging for a cab once I got to my destination, some of my determination had worn off. I stared out the window of the taxi and wrinkled my nose at the sign on the building we’d just parked in front of. How the heck had Hunter Lawson ended up working at a dive bar called Rooster’s? When I spoke to my brother a few months ago, he’d mentioned where Hunter worked, but I had trouble picturing it.

Last time I saw Hunter, he’d been in uniform.

My mouth went a bit dry at that thought. He’d been barely twenty-one, but he’d filled out his fatigues in ways that made my imagination run wild, all lean muscle and sun-bronzed skin.

Of course, he hadn’t seen me. I’d kept my nose pressed to the cold glass of my bedroom window, tears leaking from my eyes, as I watched my brother walk across the lawn to give Hunter a one armed hug, back slap combo. Both of them wore blank expressions, both stoically attempting to hide their emotions.

But I knew what they were feeling. Hunter had been my brother’s best friend since we were kids. And I’d been in love with him for almost that long.

I sighed. Once again I was staring out a window dreaming about Hunter. I glanced around the parking lot, taking in a couple of beater SUVs and even two motorcycles parked out front.

What on earth was I doing here? This was not my kind of place. And Hunter Lawson, no matter how much I might want it to be different, was not the kind of guy who’d ever be interested in me. This had mistake written all over it. I needed to turn right around and head back to the city.

“Lady, I don’t have all day. Are you getting out or am I taking you somewhere else?”

I jumped at the cab driver’s words. I twisted to look at him. He stared at me with impatience clearly stamped on his face, his finger tapping the top of the still running meter.

Crap
.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” I fumbled through my purse in search of my wallet. I peered at the meter and then his annoyed expression. I quickly gathered bills, adding a few more dollars than I’d normally tip since he seemed beyond aggravated.

I thrust the money at him, and pushed the door open. Before I could blink, I stood outside as the cab tore out of the parking lot.

I stared after it until it went out of sight. Now what? I couldn’t go in and face Hunter, could I? Why didn’t I just tell that cabbie to take me back to the train station?

But I knew the answer. He’d gotten annoyed and my nice reflex kicked in. God forbid I cause someone to get irritated.

I stamped my black-booted foot and huffed out a breath. What was wrong with me? I paid that man to drive me. Jade or Paige would have told him to keep his pants on and made him wait until they decided what they wanted to do next. But do I demand to be treated respectfully?

Nope, not me. My instincts took over, and instead of telling him to take me back to the train station or at least somewhere else where I could take my time and think things over, I jumped to ease his anger. Never mind that it left me, literally, out in the cold.

Well, maybe not so cold. I shrugged underneath the wool pea coat I’d pulled on without checking the weather before I left this morning. Seriously, who expects fifty-degree days this time of year? Either way, there was no excuse for treating me like crap. And worse, I’d actually paid him extra to do it.

My spine straightened, and I looked up at Rooster’s.

Screw nice
. I marched toward the bar, determined to do exactly what I’d come here to do—throw myself at Hunter Lawson.

Chapter Three

I stepped out of the harsh winter glare into the dimly lit bar. I stopped in the doorway, giving my eyes time to adjust while I frantically worked to hold onto my courage. My gaze moved over the large room.

On one end there were two pool tables, one of which was currently in use. Taking in the jeans, t-shirts and beards of the guys playing, if I had to guess, I’d say the bikes I saw outside belonged to those two. A few more guys sat at a table with a pitcher of beer between them, staring up at some college basketball game on the big screen over the bar. A waitress stood next to the table, her tray tucked under one arm as she watched the game with them.

I took a few more steps inside. The place was exactly what it looked like from the outside—a local dive. It was all dark wood, comfortably worn tables and chairs, a floor that your shoes stuck to just a little and a long mahogany bar with mismatched barstools. The only thing new in the place was the television. Figures.

“Katelyn?”

I froze as Hunter’s voice drifted to me from across the room and then fought the urge to run. But really, where would I go? I had no car and I was pretty certain my friend the cab driver wouldn’t be in a hurry to come get me.

“Katelyn, is that you?”

I sucked in a deep breath and turned my attention to the spot the voice came from. And there he was. Hunter Lawson. My brother’s best friend. The guy my mom told me over and over again was bad news for a girl like me. The guy I’d harbored a secret crush on from the moment I laid eyes on him when I was all of eleven-years-old.

My throat went dry, but I couldn’t resist a small smile. I had to give my eleven-year-old self some credit. She sure knew how to pick ‘em.

Hunter stood behind the bar, arms braced on its worn top as if he might launch himself over it at any moment. His dark hair dipped over his eyes, much longer now than the last time I’d seen him. And his piercing eyes, so dark they almost looked black, locked onto me.

Without any real thought, my feet carried me forward, straight to him. My heartbeat picked up speed and something warm unfurled in my chest. Until right this moment, I don’t think I’d realized just how much I’d missed him.

I grinned as I reached the bar directly across from where he stood.

“Hi.” The single word came out on a breath, making me sound like a call girl from soft-core porn.