Chapter Four
“You can’t be serious!” Droplets of Chardonnay and spittle spewed from Chris’s mouth and dotted the deck of the wraparound porch outside Toni’s new/old house. “Shit, Toni, warn a guy before you pull something like that.”
He coughed again and Toni whacked him on the back. Clad in a tailored shirt and slacks, Chris was dressed about as casual as he got, at least when there was a chance of someone beside Toni seeing him. At least he’d lost the tie and jacket.
Had he always been so stuffy? So formal? Judgmental?
Maybe she was being too hard on him. So he was more conservative and close minded than she was. Different ideas and opinions on life were what made relationships interesting. Weren’t they?
Toni shot forward in her seat and squeaked.
Holy crap. It hit her like a lightning strike.
Chris was her parents.
She was dating her parents.
Everything she’d rebelled against.
She’d come full circle.
“What’s wrong with you?” Another cough shook Chris’s body. “I’m the one who’s choking over here.”
They were lounging on her porch, much to Chris’s chagrin. He was much more an inside kind of guy. In the ten days they’d been there, Toni had taken to sitting on the porch and watching the sun set each evening with a glass of wine. The house had woods behind and a view of the Great Smoky Mountains from the front.
Beautiful sunsets. So focused on education and forming a life she could be proud of, Toni had forgotten how wonderful being still could be. She’d forgotten so many things about the sleepy town she grew up in. Especially the sense of community. In Chicago, in a building with fifty apartments, Toni had only spoken to one of her neighbors, and that was because she’d accidentally gotten some mail for the tenant above her.
“Nothing’s wrong. And I am serious, Chris.”
His wineglass hit the side table with a clunk and he shot her an incredulous glare. “You’re going to stay here and run a diner. For six weeks? Here? In this shit town.” He snorted. “If that’s not a joke, I don’t know what is.”
Frustration rose and she stood, jamming her hands on her hips. “Why is that so funny? I grew up here. In this town. In that diner.”
Chris stood as well, damn him for being so much taller than she was. He was handsome in a very Wall-Street-investment-banker kind of way. Or an attorney way, which made sense because that’s what he was. Polished, coiffed, expensive. Good on paper. Everything she’d be smart to want. So she’d tried to force it.
But she’d always been one to go for a man who was more tarnished.
And look where that had gotten her? Girlfriend of an asshole gangbanger by the time she was seventeen. Passed around to his friends like some kind of live sex toy. Drugged-out and a hot fucking mess.
Once Mark literally dragged her wasted ass away from that life and cleaned her up, she’d vowed to never make those mistakes again. To never be led around by lust, hormones, and anger. So, she steered clear of anything resembling a bad boy. And now she was coasting along in a bland, boring relationship with a man who didn’t really know her. Not deep down.
Not his fault.
She’d hid herself from him. Hell, she hid herself from herself the past few years. And now she had the opportunity to rediscover who she was over the next six weeks. To really determine what she wanted to get out of her life. An opportunity she couldn’t pass up.
“You’re a city girl, Toni.” He waved his hand around as though the beautiful nature around them was a steaming pile of garbage. “You wear J Crew, drink cosmopolitans, and get your nails done every two weeks. You do not belong here in hick town.”
Was this guy for real? “Wow, Chris. Snobby much? That’s me, huh? Summed up in three insignificant details.”
With a snort, Chris threw his arms in the air and paced the length of the porch. “That was just an example. You’re different here. Look at your outfit for God’s sake. Your pockets are longer than your shorts. I’ve seen the little sluts at your school wearing the same outfits.”
Toni’s blood was a few degrees from boiling. “You did not just call me a slut,” she shouted.
From opposite sides of the porch, they stared at each other. Toni tried to steady her breathing, tried to calm her anger, but it wasn’t working. This was a side of Chris she hadn’t known existed. She’d never slapped anyone before, but there was a first time for everything.
Chris on the other hand deescalated much faster. After stuffing his hands in his pockets, he focused on the setting sun before facing her. “Look, I have to go back to Chicago tonight because I have a deposition in the morning. I don’t want to fight with you. You’re grieving over your parents’ deaths and you’re lost right now. How about this, you stay here this week and I’ll fly back out on the weekend. We can sort everything out then.”
Such a sensible, rational, adult way of handling their conflict when Toni wanted to rant and rave at him. Maybe being back in her hometown was throwing her off her game.
Not off enough that she didn’t realize this relationship was quickly coming to an end.
Instead of reacting on instinct and emotion, she dropped her hands from her hips and rolled her shoulders. Tension had her upper back muscles protesting the movement. “Maybe we should take a break,” she said.
Chris nodded. “I’ll go back, and we’ll talk next week after we’ve each had some breathing room, okay?”
She could try that, but would she feel different in a week? Probably not. Really, she shouldn’t have been with him in the first place. He’d have every right to be pissed at her. In a way, she’d used him. Not with poor intentions, but to try to wedge herself into a specific kind of life. A life that didn’t seem to fit who she was, unfortunately. Maybe she just needed to steer clear of relationships altogether.
“No. I mean break like break up. I don’t think this is going to work, Chris.”
His face fell, and guilt hit her hard. Just because he wasn’t for her, didn’t mean he was a crappy boyfriend. And if the look on his face was any indication, he was crushed by her declaration.
Townsend was screwing with her head, big time. Perhaps this wasn’t the time to make a decision about the fate of her relationship, but even though she felt guilty about hurting Chris, it felt right.
~ ~ ~ ~
Zach splashed cold water on his overheated face, then braced his hands on the sides of the sink. He let his head drop down as his breathing slowly returned to normal. For the past hour, he’d pounded the heavy bag like the sack of sand personally disrespected him and everyone he gave a shit about.
If the throb in his shoulder wasn’t enough of an indication he’d overdone it, the ache in his knuckles was.
Fucking gangbangers.
The club’s board was meeting in two hours and Zach had bad news for Copper. Bad news for the entire club. Shit news, really.
As enforcer for the Hell’s Handlers MC, Zach had contacts with MC’s, gangs, a few dirty cops, and various lowlifes for hundreds of miles around. He’d collected quite a few favors over time and made sure everyone knew not to fuck with him or his MC. For years, they’d run their club and conducted business without competition or threat of a turf war.
Until now.
Until the fuckin’ Gray Dragons gang decided to get greedy. Now, he had to tell Copper that some two-bit gangbanger and his band of merry assholes was coming for the club. They wanted to steal the Handler’s business, sure, but mostly it was a power play. Show of force. Flexing muscles.
Drive out the local outlaw MC and become top dog.
The Gray Dragons had been around for over a decade. Small time gang nonsense, mostly. At least, in the beginning. Selling weed, pimping girls, petty robberies. They operated about thirty miles out of Townsend and had mostly kept to their side of the proverbial tracks. Apparently, they’d grown over the years. Gotten their dicks hard over a little extra cash and, suddenly, they wanted a larger piece of the pie.
Namely heroin. And since the MC stopped dealing in that shit before Zach prospected, the Gray Dragons didn’t view them as competition. But, apparently, they did view Hell’s Handlers’ territory fair game to distribute their garbage.
It was a problem.
A big, fucking problem.
Heroin could bring cops, Feds, and all sorts of shit to Townsend. Beyond that, it was Hell’s Handlers’ town and that should have been enough to keep the Dragons out. They wouldn’t stop at peddling heroin through Townsend. In fact, that was the really bad news he had for Copper. The Dragons were slowly buying up debts owed to the Handlers. A way to gain support and cut the MC off at the knees. And they’d been the ones responsible for the attack on some of the girls who worked at the club-owned strip joint.
Worry tightened Zach’s worn out muscles. A turf war between the Handlers and the Dragons wouldn’t end well. He could feel it in his bones.
“Fuuuck,” he yelled as he clenched the edge of the counter until his fatigued joints screamed in protest. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off the fact his MC’s world was about to be blown to bits. Maybe he should wander next door and introduce himself to the pretty little lady who’d inherited his neighbor’s house. Staring at her lush hips and tits should take care of distracting him.
Zach lifted his head and stared out the kitchen window which had a straight-shot view of the neighbor’s house. Sure enough, she was out on the porch with the twiggy suit who was staying with her.
Boyfriend? Husband? Didn’t matter. All he wanted was to ogle her for a few moments, maybe make a few suggestive comments and find out if she was a blusher or not. Pissing off the walking, talking stick in a suit would just be icing on the cake.
Decision made, Zach jogged to his room and tossed on a plain black T-shirt. Sweat still coated his body, making the cotton stick to his chest and back. After stripping his workout shorts off, he found a pair of jeans on the floor and slid them on. As he left, he grabbed his cut from a hook by the front door and shrugged into it.
No member of the Hell’s Handlers went without their cuts unless they were riding in a cage or through another MC’s territory. As a sign of respect. And they never tossed them on the floor in heap, no matter how tired, how wasted, or how hot the pussy they were about to dive into was. Respect for the club was number one. Each man worked their ass off to earn it and that leather represented the club and everything that was important to him and his brothers.
Thirty seconds later, Zach’s large stride had eaten up more than half the yard separating the two houses. The suit noticed him before the neighbor’s daughter. The man looked like someone had kicked him in the nuts, and the tension surrounding the couple was so thick he could almost see it part as he walked up to them. When Zach reached the steps leading to the porch, the suit straightened and stepped out in front of the neighbor, blocking her from Zach’s view. Like he could somehow keep Zach from getting to her if harming her was his end goal.
He almost laughed out loud. Zach ate guys like him for a snack.
“Chris, what are you doing?” she asked, sidestepping around him. “Hey.” She lifted a hand and sent Zach a wave.
The suit, Chris, apparently, sputtered and tried to wrangle her behind him once again, but she resisted. Jesus, the man couldn’t even wrestle one slip of a woman. He’d be no match for Zach even on his worst day.
“We don’t want any trouble. Why don’t you head back to your side of the property line, man?” Chris kept his hand around the woman’s upper arm despite her frown and attempts to wriggle away.
“Chris, seriously? He’s not doing anything wrong. He’s my neighbor. And not to be mean, but he could probably kick both our asses in his sleep.”
Whether she’d meant the words to be heard or not, they were. Loud and clear. Zach laughed and rested his hip against the stair railing. “There are plenty of hours in the day for kicking ass. Wouldn’t waste my sleep on that. There are a few other things I could do in my sleep.” He winked at her. “Especially if I had someone as hot as you keeping my bed warm.”
Well look at that. No blush. No prudish little gasp. Just a sassy smirk and a delicate grunt.
“Are you hitting on her?” Chris released her and started toward Zach, but the woman stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“I’m Toni,” she said, holding out her manicured hand.
Tori, Toni. He’d been close. “Zach.” He grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. Her hand shake was strong, confident, and soft as fucking handwoven silk. Christ, that feminine grip would feel fantastic about a foot and a half lower.
“I remember,” she said.
Before he allowed her to withdraw her hand, he met Chris’s gaze.
The man was pissed. Looked as if he was trying to melt Zach with the heat of his shitty stare. There was probably more of a chance of that happening than him actually beating Zach in a fair fight.
Poor little soft man.
“Figured it was about time I did my neighborly duty. Seen you coming and going for the past week or so. Can’t say I’d have recognized you on the street. You did a damn good job growing up.”
She laughed. “I’m glad you popped over. I’ve heard your bike a few times, but it was always late so I never bothered to come say hello.” She pushed a lock of shoulder-length hair behind her ear. Definitely brown with blonde highlights. It suited her and made her green eyes even more obvious.
She was one hell of a looker. Curvy hips, large tits, round ass, small waist. If he’d closed his eyes and described his fantasy woman, Toni would have easily slid right into the mold.
“Hey douche bag, her eyes are about ten inches higher.”
Busted.
Zach just smirked at Toni. He wouldn’t apologize, because he wasn’t sorry. Not for one second. The outfit she had on did nothing to hide her figure and that included the breasts he’d love to bury his face between. A woman couldn’t wear a top with a low neckline and a necklace that ended an inch above her cleavage and not expect men to look.
Again, she didn’t blush. Just raised an eyebrow and placed one hand on her hip.
“Hope the bike’s not too loud for you,” he said.
“Nope. I kinda like it, actually. That deep rumbly sound is comforting in a way.”
Holy shit. If he was interested in tying himself to a woman, she just might be the perfect one. “A woman after my own heart,” he said at the same time Chris snorted.
“Can I get you a beer or anything?” she asked.
He’d love a beer, but that would mean she’d walk away and he didn’t want to stop staring at her, nor did he want to be alone with her asshole boyfriend. Not that the guy intimidated him, but because he wasn’t in the mood for a pissing contest. This visit was supposed to be a fun distraction, not an annoying whose-dick-is-bigger contest.
It was so obviously Zach’s there was no point in even measuring.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks. So, you guys sticking around town for a while?”
“I’ll be here for the next six weeks or so,” she said. “Chris was actually just leaving. He’s got a flight to Chicago this afternoon. Right, Chris?” Her tone was soft but brokered no argument. Like she was trying to gently prod him along.
“I do.” He slid his arm around Toni’s waist and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Walk me to the car, baby?” he not-whispered in her ear.
Zach fought to hold back his laughter. If the suit was trying to stake his claim, it didn’t seem to be working too well. Toni’s eyes narrowed and she slipped out of his hold. “Sure,” she said, though the word sounded forced. She gave Zach a strained smile. “I’ll be just a second.”
“No problem, beautiful.” If Zach was a better person, he’d make an excuse and hightail it back over to his house. Leave these two to sort their shit in peace. But he’d never claimed to be a good man. In fact, he was an outlaw. And sticking around to watch the uncomfortable goodbye between Toni and the suit seemed exactly like something an outlaw would do. So, he climbed the steps to the porch and took a seat in one of the side-by-side rocking chairs.
And the goodbye was awkward. Zach couldn’t make out what was said, but if Toni’s flailing arms and Chris’s deep scowl were any indication, it wasn’t a lovers parting. After about three minutes, Chris climbed into the car, slammed the door, and peeled out of the dirt driveway engulfing Toni in a cloud of dust.
“Trouble in paradise?” Zach asked as she ascended the three steps back to the porch.
“You could say that.” She grunted. “I’d actually broken up with him about five seconds before you wandered over here. Wasn’t too well received.” She sighed and shook her head. “Sure you don’t want a beer? I could use a few myself.”
Broke up with the boyfriend.
Only in town for six weeks.
Jackpot.
“Sure, I’d love one.”