CHAPTER EIGHT
Rory raced through the gears, steering his Triumph Thunderbird Commander motorcycle through the queuing cars in the London traffic. He was late, and he hadn’t even slept. Sky hadn’t wanted to, and neither had he.
He’d been her first, which astonished him. It also set off warning bells. Why had it even happened? He’d vowed to walk away from her. He probably should have. Eventually he’d left when the tube stations opened. He made the first train home, where he showered and changed and got on his bike to head to work.
Normally he tried to get to work before the big commuter jam hit, but he was right in it today and kept weaving through log jammed traffic. He felt like he had a wild demon on his tail and he had to outride it. Bad decisions were like that, and he was pretty sure he’d made one. Had to be the case, because he couldn’t shake off thoughts of the night before.
Roaring along the embankment carriageway at the Thames riverside, he passed stationary traffic. Car drivers glared at him while they queued to pay their city congestion charges. It always gave Rory a kick.
Minutes later he turned off the dual carriageway and followed the road along the rail tracks that went east. The workshop was under the railway arches some four miles further on the tracks, but he liked to weave as close to the rail track as he could, learning the side streets. When they first came to the city, courier work was one of the things the three of them did to make cash. It had been a goal, to learn his way around the back routes of London in case he could get more courier work later on. As it happened, once he signed up to work with George at the classic bike shop he didn’t need to, but he’d got into the habit and still liked to source the craftiest side routes.
Dropping down through the gears, he slowed and turned into the narrow street where the workshop was located. The arched wooden gates stood open, latched back on massive wrought iron hooks, indicating George was already in and working.
When he got to the workshop, he switched off the engine, dismounted and wheeled the bike inside to the back of the shop, where he parked it up safely out of view from the street. It wasn’t a salubrious area and George often warned Rory to be cautious and keep his eyes peeled.
George was on a phone call, chortling heavily over a badly picked parts order.
Rory was glad of it. His thoughts were clouded and George liked to chat on a morning. He wasn’t ready. He was still trying to process what had happened the night before. Sky. Laying there with her in his arms while the sky lightened had been too good. She’d dozed for a while, so he allowed himself to enjoy the closeness, even while his brain kicked into gear and told him to get the hell out of there.
He thought about slipping away and leaving her sleeping, but she stirred on the futon mattress while he dressed. Not wanting to abandon her, he kissed her awake and asked her what time she was working her shift. She’d purred like a contented kitten, looping her arms around his neck and smiling up at him. Staying would have been too easy.
He’d promised to be there at the Coffee Hut to meet her when she was done. Why? So he’d slept with her. She’d given him her gift, and he’d wanted it and savored it. But now he had to get back to shucking off his past mistakes—namely cruising on computer hacking for his first year in London. He had to keep her out of it. Shit could go down, and he wanted to protect Sky from it.
Picking up his tool box, he carried it over to the two bikes awaiting his attention. Strolling to the workbench, he leafed through the duty book to see which bike was being collected first. It was the BMW, and all it needed new spark plugs and an oil change which was good. The other bike was a Triumph Bonneville, and he could service that with his eyes shut.
While he went to work he tried to clear his head and concentrate, but all he could do was think of was Sky, and the way she’d looked when they had sex. Of all the women in all the world, he never thought she could look so vulnerable, that he would be afraid to let her go in case she shattered. Why the hell was that? It was some weird puzzle in his head, like making love with her had let loose crazy concerns for her ongoing safety. Or were those concerns always there and it was about him, they were bad for each other because of his illegal doings?
The wrench slipped from his hand and he swore loudly.
George had finished his call and wandered over, picked up the dropped wrench and passed it back to him. “You’re not having a good morning.”
“Thanks.” Rory returned to the task in hand but George stood by, stroking his long white beard thoughtfully as he watched on. “Sorry I was late.”
“It’s rare, so it doesn’t matter.” After a few moments he sat down on a stack of tires.
Rory knew what this meant. George wanted to talk. Glancing sideways, Rory looked up from where he squatted by the bike. “Did you get the parts mix up sorted?”
George nodded. “I swear Maggie gets it wrong on purpose so I have to call her.”
Rory smiled. “I wondered about it. Last time I answered she only wanted to speak to the boss.”
George chortled. He was a widower but he had a reputation for drawing the ladies. A hog driver, he also looked the part, with long white hair tied with a leather strap at his nape, his beard and moustache also long and groomed. His trademark outfit was sleeveless leather jacket, checkered shirt and blue jeans. Rory had only once seen him in a suit, when he was going to a friend’s funeral. Even then he’d looked like a biker, with a bootlace at his neck instead of a regular tie.
“Have you had breakfast?” George asked.
Rory shook his head.
“Thought not.” He pulled a bank note from his top pocket. “My treat. Pick us up some hot bacon sandwiches and fancy coffees from the café. Take a break.”
Rory took the note and headed off. On the other side of the street a tradesman’s café served hot, cheap food. He hadn’t even thought about breakfast. Usually he threw some cereal in a bowl before he rode through the city.
The two women who ran the joint waved and the one on the counter quickly took his order. She was another of George’s groupies and they got good service. Minutes later, Rory was back at the workshop with the goods. The hot bacon and fresh bread smelled good. He hadn’t even realized he was hungry. In fact he was starving.
George clocked him coming back and pulled up the two worn leather car seats they used for taking time out and entertaining company.
Rory handed over the bag of food to share out.
“You’re quiet today,” George commented eventually, gesturing with his half eaten sandwich.
“Family stuff on my mind.”
“Is it your dad? Is he coming home?”
Rory shook his head. He’d told George his dad and Shelly were overseas. He’d never mentioned Sky, or her older sister Rowan. Not in a significant way, maybe in passing. “No, it’s not that.”
“Girl trouble?”
Rory was about to swig his coffee and paused, astonished. “What are you, Colombo?”
George grinned, exposing pearly whites and one gleaming gold cap. “Just a lucky guess.”
Rory had to laugh. Nevertheless, he felt the urge to get it off his chest. George was possibly the one person in the world he could talk to about personal stuff. When he was close with Draco and Sean it was lad’s stuff they discussed, not complicated stuff like this. “I have a stepsister, Sky. When we left Ireland my dad and I pitched up in a town called Cadogan on the North Wales coast. We were only breaking for the weekend, but dad met Shelly, and they got hitched. Suddenly we had a whole new family.”
“Must have been a shock to the system.”
“Too right.” Rory sipped his coffee. “You have no idea.”
“So…?”
“So, I hadn’t seen the girls since I came to London, but Sky, the younger one, we…well, we bumped into each other a couple of days ago.”
George studied him for a while, and then chuckled. “I still remember what it felt like, bumping into a woman.”
Rory cringed. “I meant in the tube, we bumped into each other in the tube.”
Why was this so awkward, even now? They weren’t related, and it didn’t feel wrong when he’d been with her the night before, yet it felt wrong when he tried to talk about it. It was his dad’s fault, drumming into him—literally, with his fists—that it was wrong of him to want Sky.
“I can see it in your eyes, Rory.”
Rory stared at him in disbelief. “Is it that obvious?
“I can relate.”
“What, you had a stepsister?”
“No. But I had a cousin who took my fancy. It didn’t go down well with the family.”
Rory attempted to shrug it off. The urge to confess bit into him though. “I guess we always wanted each other, and I figured...well, I figured we could do it and that would be that.”
“Once not enough? You got a taste for her now?
Startled, Rory stared at his boss. Since he started working at the workshop Rory had been able to talk to George. Stuff he’d never opened up about before, including how it was with his dad and Sean, and how he’d felt when his dad married again so soon after their mother died. He’d also talked to him about going straight, giving up the hacking commissions. George had confided his own troubled teen years and encouraged Rory to invest in his skills as a mechanic to keep focused. If it hadn’t been for George, Rory may never have ditched the hacking, and it’d been a huge relief for him to do so—more than he’d even guessed before the event. Rory knew George was wise about a lot of things, but not stuff like this.
George grinned, flashing his gold tooth. “Don’t look so surprised. I was young once, just you remember that.”
Rory scrubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re not shocked?”
George shook his head. “If you two aren’t blood related, what makes you feel it’s wrong?”
Rory shrugged one shoulder “My dad used to tell me not to look at her the way I did, back in the day.”
“Back in the day.” George repeated, and laughed. “You sound like you’re forty already.”
Rory wasn’t sure how to feel about his boss’s reaction.
George winked, lightening the mood. “Your dad would’ve felt his responsibility was to draw a line for you. Besides, it would’ve been weird for the adults. But if the chemistry is there, and you’re sharing the same living space, it’s hard to ignore.”
“The only way was to leave.”
“That’s why you came to London?”
“Partly. We were headed here anyway, until my dad got sidetracked.”
“So, did she follow you?”
“No.” Even as he denied it, it made him wonder. He shook it off. “It was a coincidence. She didn’t know where I was.”
“But when you hooked up again, something happened.”
Rory nodded and stood up. “I figured it was something we had to do, to get past it. But I still want her. In fact, its worse.”
George put his hand on Rory’s shoulder and squeezed. “And the little lady, does she want more?”
Rory rolled his eyes. “She flipped when I tried to leave without making ‘another date’.”
“So, did you make ‘another date’?”
Rory nodded. He was about to say something about his mixed feelings regarding dating, when he became aware of someone standing in the entrance to the workshop, casting a shadow.
Tension beaded up his spine. He turned toward the shadow.
A lad was standing there under the arched entrance, a lad of no more than fifteen years old. Rory stood up and eyeballed him, assuming it was someone from Jackson’s set. “You need something?”
The lad was tall and lanky and had his fists shoved in his pockets. “Can I take a look around?”
Rory noticed his eyes were kind of spacey, like he was on something.
“Course you can,” George called out across the floor of the workshop, rising to his feet. “Just don’t touch anything. We don’t own these bikes, we’re just fixin’ them.”
The lad strolled in and peered around. He had dirty blond stripes in his hair, like a dye job had gone wrong, and his running shoes were well worn. Rory returned to the bike he was servicing, but watched the lad like a hawk.
The stranger looked everywhere, but not at Rory.
Rory couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t seem as if he’d been sent as a threat.
George followed Rory. “Don’t look so concerned,” he said in a low voice. “That was you a year ago, wandering in for a look around.”
Rory was taken aback, but when he thought about it he realized it was true.
He’d been looking at the stranger with suspicion, but it’s exactly how he’d wandered in a year before—a youth with a passion for bikes, drawn by awe to the workshop under the arches, the one filled with rows of classic bikes and an owner who looked like he’d escaped from Hell’s Angels or ZZ Top.
Jackson had done this to him, that and the existence of his USB tool kit.
His decision to go straight had set hounds on his heels and it colored his judgment of every damn thing. It had to stop. The decision to finish with the hacking was the right one, but Jackson’s pursuit of the toolkit was getting in the way. Rory had two choices, give Jackson the kit, or do as Sky suggested and destroy it in front of him. With a silent vow, he made his decision.
“I guess you’re right,” he responded to George, eventually. “It is a bit like me wandering in. What the hell did you ever see in me?”
George laughed and winked. “Beats me.”
* * * *
Sky lit up inside when she saw Rory approaching the Coffee Hut.
God, he was gorgeous. Memories of the night before made her body react, her pulse racing, anticipation and desire filling her. It felt surreal, because she needed this, the sight of him approaching, but she didn’t want to need anyone, especially a man. He’d won her over from the first moment though, with those intense green eyes, that brogue and his craggy bone structure. There was a risky side to him too, and it called to her. She didn’t have an option. She craved him.
Glancing at her watch she noticed he was a little early.
“And there was me thinking you wouldn’t turn up,” she said when he stood by at one side of the Coffee Hut. She put a cap on the coffee she’d been making and handed it over to the customer.
Rory didn’t say anything but waited there, looking at her with a frown.
She moved closer and leaned over the counter. “I’ll be done in about fifteen minutes.”
“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to cancel.”
Her heart sank. Instantly, her emotional armor locked into place. “Right. I see.”
“It’s not you—”
“It’s me,” she interrupted, annoyed. “Oh please, Rory, don’t even insult me with cliché rejections.”
“No.” He closed in, reached up and over the serving shelf, grabbing her hand in his. Squeezing her tightly he shook his head, as if to make sure she felt the weight of his denial.
She eased her hand from his, still not sure.
“Come out here. I can’t talk to you properly over this bloody counter.”
Sky’s heart beat fast and hard, her arousal levels soaring. She glanced at her two co-workers. They were both busy but the queue wasn’t long.
A moment later she was outside the wagon and Rory strode over to her and took her into his arms.
The way he held her made her weak and vulnerable and yet, against all her better judgment, she wanted to feel all those things. He looked so intense, so bloody hot, it was impossible to ignore him.
“It’s not you or me. I have something I must take care of.” He dropped his chin, lifting his brows and staring at her meaningfully. “I need to dispose of the USB properly. I’m going to do as you suggested and I need to do it quickly.”
Even though it made sense, she couldn’t help reacting badly. What if it was a cover story and he was meeting a girlfriend? It was pretty convenient to mention the USB again. “Okay.”
“I’ll call you later this evening, we’ll rearrange.”
She shrugged, not trusting herself to say anything in case she embarrassed herself.
“Sky,” he whispered, stroking her hand. “You know I have to do this, right?”
Emotions tangled her thoughts. “Why now? We had a date.”
“We still do.”
“You said as much on the tube,” she blurted, “and you were going to walk away. If I hadn’t taken your bag I never would’ve seen you again.”
His eyebrows lifted. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“That’s what it felt like!”
Frowning heavily, he shook his head. “I would’ve walked away to keep you safe. That was the only reason, and it’s the reason I’m doing it now.”
Suddenly embarrassed at her outburst, she folded her arms across her chest.
“I’d like to cook you a meal, tomorrow night. Something that’s not pizza. I’m concerned about you.”
“Playing the concerned big brother now?” It came out as a knee-jerk reaction and she regretted it immediately
He glared at her. “Maybe, maybe I am.”
Her mood dipped again. The last thing she wanted was to play happy families. They’d had to do it for far too long already. She stared at the floor. She knew she was being childish but she couldn’t help herself. The thing she wanted most in the world was to impress him as a woman, an independent woman, and he had her in such a state she couldn’t even do that.
Rory shifted. Suddenly his hand was around the back of her neck and his thumb was under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
Shocked and dizzy with arousal, her lips parted.
“Believe me, there’s nothing I want to do more than take you home and bang you all night long.”
Gasping, she sucked breath in to her lungs.
“There’s something I have to take care of first though.” He stared into her eyes.
The promise she saw there made her melt. “Yeah, yeah. Trashing the USB with an audience.”
He almost cracked a smile.
Mustering herself, she leaned into him. “Maybe I can come along and help?”
The half-smile vanished. “No, no way.”
“I’d make good back up.” She lifted her shoulders. “I can make myself look big.”
He sighed. “I want you to stay out of it. Trust me, please?”
She nodded, but her mind raced. “Okay.”
“Look, we’ll rearrange. What time do you finish making coffee for commuters tomorrow?”
“I’m on a later shift. I finish at seven.”
“I’ll be here to meet you when you’re done.” She was on her tiptoes, ready for the kiss when it came.
He cupped her face. His mouth on hers only made her crave more of him.
The way he held her head in both his hands made her want to wrap her legs around his hips. Pressing closer still, she ran her hands under his leather jacket to feel his muscled back.
“Tomorrow,” he promised as he drew away. “I’ll come back.”
She pursed her lips, wanting to say a dozen things, knowing it would be wrong to say any of them. Was he seeing someone else? Was the USB thing really what he was doing or was that a convenient excuse? She had to know. He wouldn’t answer her questions though, so there was only one way to be sure.
She mustered a smile and headed back into the wagon, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. “See you tomorrow.”
He nodded, but lingered a moment as if unconvinced she’d understood or believed him—as well he might—and then he glanced at his watch and shot off.
Even as he turned away, Sky was undoing her apron and reaching for her coat.
“Can you manage the last few minutes of the shift without me?” she said to her two workmates. “I’ll owe you an exchange, double time.”
They nodded. A double exchange was always a good deal.
She was out of there in a flash and on Rory’s tail before he left the station.
Mostly it was curiosity.
Then there was the unfulfilled desire to spend time with him.
On that account, she’d been robbed.