“Well, it looks like congratulations are in order.” Jackrabbit held out his hand to his oldest, dearest friend who, in his honest opinion, had just gone and done the worst thing anyone could ever possibly do. Which was, of course, to go and get himself tied to one person for the rest of his life in holy wedlock. Marriage, Jackrabbit thought, is worse than any prison sentence.
But he kept those particular thoughts to himself, forcing a wide grin on his face as Hatchet took his hand, shaking it wildly with a dazed look in his eyes as if he’d been star struck. The cause of that look was, of course, none other than Elsie fucking McLaurel.
Jackrabbit still had to shake his head at the oddness of it all. Of all the gorgeous, eligible women in the word, his friend had gone and fallen for the only daughter of the man he hated most in the world. Or at least had hated.
By the look of happy laughter on old man McLaurel’s face as he danced with his daughter on the dance floor, both men had changed their opinions of each other. Somewhat anyways. It certainly had helped that Mark McLaurel had fronted Hatchet enough money to get his own little ranch in the country.
It didn’t make a lick of sense to Jackrabbit, but as long as his friend was happy that was all that mattered, he supposed. No, you would never find him rusticating on some washed up old farm, digging in the dirt and stomping around cow shit all day. No sirree bob. Not him.
He preferred fast motorcycles and the open road. The purr of the bike beneath him and the feeling of pure freedom as the wind whipped past him, drowning out the whole world and every shitty thing in it.
Jackrabbit took a long pull from his tumbler full of whiskey, Hatchet still shaking his other hand like a madman, and he nearly rolled his eyes at his friend. Yep, there was no doubt about it. He was a goner. It was obvious he’d completely lost it as soon as the words, ‘I do,’ had passed his lips. But Jackrabbit just kept that smile plastered on his lips and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the god of alcohol for the open bar.
“Thanks, Rabbit. Isn’t it amazing?” Hatchet said, grinning from ear to ear as he finally released his hand from the death grip it had been captured in. Jackrabbit just nodded, saluting him with his nearly empty glass.
“Sure, man, sure. Better you than me, that’s all I have to say.” Jackrabbit threw in another wide grin to soften the words, but he meant them wholeheartedly. The thought of being tied down like that had a cold shudder moving through him.
Hatchet let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Just you wait, Rabbit. It’ll happen to you too one day. When you meet the right girl, then you’ll know.”
Jackrabbit’s grin slid into a sour grimace before bouncing back again, and he raised his glass once more. “Well, here’s to me never finding the right girl.” He downed the last of his whiskey in one long gulp and he savored the burn that wiped out the bad taste that the conversation had left in his mouth.
His friend just laughed before thankfully changing the subject.
“So, I hear I’m not the only one who deserves congratulating,” Hatchet said with a sideways glance towards him.
Jackrabbit looked down at the toes of his dust-stained boots, pride filling him up, and when he looked back at Hatchet he was standing a little straighter.
“After all the shit that went down with Mad Dog, the crew must have thought they wanted, oh, I don’t know, not a psychotic maniac in charge of the Roadburners. It was a unanimous vote.” Jackrabbit pointed to the new patch that graced the back of his black leather jacket and Hatchet whistled appreciatively.
“President,” he said softly. “President John Jackrabbit Dawes. Nearly boggles the mind. It’s a good thing they don’t know you like I do, otherwise…” Hatchet cut off with a bark of laughter as Jackrabbit gave him a none-too-gentle shove and a glower. His friend held up his hands in a gesture of mock innocence.
“I’m kidding, man. I’m just kidding. They picked the best leader any man could wish for. I know. They’re lucky to have you.”
Jackrabbit had to swallow hard at the compliment and the rough emotion it suddenly had blocking his throat.
“Thanks man,” Rabbit finally forced out. “But what about you? You know you can come back to the crew whenever you want. Open invitation. Whenever you’re done hoeing vegetables and shoveling cow shit or whatever it is you’re doing out there.”
Hatchet glanced over at the dance floor where Elsie was still dancing, laughing. Hell, even from there, Jackrabbit could see she practically fucking glowed with happiness. There was a goofy smile on his friend’s face when he finally turned back to him.
“No, Rabbit, I think I’m done with the Roadburners. I’ve got a new life now. I’m happy here, you know?”
Not really, the thought passed through Jackrabbit’s mind so fast he couldn’t stop it. Have I ever really been happy? But then he shook his head as if to dislodge the thought altogether, his grin firmly in place once more.
“Yeah. I get it,” Jackrabbit lied. “Hey, and I’m happy for you, man. I really am. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.” His grin dimmed a little bit as he remembered the news he’d received just earlier that day. “Listen, though, make sure you keep your head down and your eyes open.”
“Why’s that?” Hatchet asked, his eyes sharpening.
“I just got word this morning. Finn’s headed this way. It can only mean one thing.”
“Fuck.” Hatchet bit off the curse, rubbing a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “Of course, he decides now’s a good time to come back. The bastard.”
“Don’t worry about it, Hatchet. I’ve got my guys on twenty-four hour look out. I’ll know as soon as he shows his face,” Jackrabbit said, trying to reassure his friend but not knowing how affective it had been. Not very by the lines of worry carved in his forehead. “Don’t worry, Hatchet,” he repeated, clapping his friend on the back. “You know what we need? Another round of drinks. Yep, that’s what we need. Copious amounts of alcohol.”
Jackrabbit threw his arm around Hatchet’s shoulders, turning him towards where a wooden bar had been set up against one wall of the converted barn. And then he froze. It was her. The girl from the police station.
The gorgeous woman that had come up to him, handcuffed and all, as bold as brass and then continued to say things to him that still had his ears burning and heat rising in his cheeks. Never before had he met a woman who could make him blush. It was usually the other way around. But not her, not Rachael. She was different. Special somehow, in an indefinable way. And it had his body reacting instantly at the sight of her. Especially in that dress.
It was skintight in places and loose in others, revealing the most luscious curves and then only hinting at more. So much more. Her dark hair had streaks of red in it that set off the olive tone of her skin, and the shimmering emerald color made her green eyes shine like gemstones as she ordered a drink and then casually stood to one side of the bar.
She was so sexy it made his heart race. Sin and seduction all wrapped up into one luscious package that had his mouth just watering for a taste. It was too easy for him to imagine the spicy sweet flavor of her. The way she would moan and claw at his back like a wild animal as her thighs squeezed tight around him and…
“Better close your mouth before you start drooling like the dog you are,” Hatchet murmured out of the side of his mouth, and Jackrabbit didn’t miss the edge of humor that his friend didn’t even try and hide.
“I wasn’t drooling.”
“Well, you were about to,” Hatchet shot back, shaking his head, “And she’s about the dumbest person you could pick to drool over. You know she’s the sheriff’s daughter, right?”
Jackrabbit just shrugged, never once taking his eyes off of her. “All I know is I’m starving and she looks like a three-course meal.”
“You’re brave, I’ll give you that,” Hatchet muttered under his breath, “Brave, or just fucking stupid.”
Jackrabbit just gave another shrug, not saying anything else to contradict the other man. What was the point? He was right, not that it made a damn bit of difference to him.
“I think my wife needs me,” Hatchet finally said after a moment, and then barked out a soft laugh. “Wife. I’m still getting used to that.”
“Well, like I said, better you than me,” Jackrabbit said, grinning wide one more, as he slapped his friend on the back, giving him a shove towards the dance floor for good measure. “Well, go on then. Go dance with your wife, buddy.”
Jackrabbit turned, watching his friend walk like a nervous schoolboy towards the center of the open space they were using as a make-shift dance floor, and felt an itch start between his shoulder blades.
He watched as Elsie’s smile widened, her blue eyes lighting with love and happiness as they landed on Hatchet, and he swept her into his arms, holding her close as a slow dance started. They danced as if the whole world had just disappeared and they were the only two people left. It was so cute it nearly made him sick just to watch, and all he could do was tell himself how lucky he was that it wasn’t him wrapped around some woman’s little finger like that. He nearly even believed it.
***
Rachael looked down at the tumbler of bourbon she held in one hand and the small, delicate looking bouquet she had in the other. She was Elsie’s maid of honor. She had the tacky dress to prove it. But at least she’d been able to work some magic with a little needle and thread to make it passable. After she’d cut off the bottom half, leaving the hem to just barely skim her legs mid-thigh.
That bouquet, though. It was full of delicate, tiny white flowers that were already mostly wilted in the Texas summer heat. Something about it made her sad, those wilted, dying flowers. It was a happy occasion. Her best friend had just gotten married. She should be ecstatic, and the flowers should still be alive and beautiful. But they weren’t, and neither was she.
She looked up, watching the happy couple sway together in the middle of the dance floor, completely lost in each other. A restless feeling hit her then, familiar and persistent. A feeling that had a need to flee, to be free and alone, sweeping through her. But she couldn’t just run out on her best friend’s reception. She was the maid of honor, god damn it! And she would act like it.
But even still, she couldn’t stop the guilty feeling from spreading through her for not being ecstatic for Elsie. She was thrilled, she really was, but watching them together, seeing how happy and in love they were, just left a yawning empty feeling in the pit of her stomach, and once more she had the urge to just turn around and run as far away as she could.
Rachael tore her gaze away, looking for something, anything else to distract her, and nearly purred when they landed on the tan, blond-haired man in the black leather jacket who was standing on the other side of the room.
He stood out like a sore thumb, not because of his clothes, but just in the way he carried himself. Hannah would call it his ‘aura’ but Rachael knew it was just pure, undiluted sex appeal. Perfect. Just the type of distraction she’d been looking for.
She felt the force of his dark, ocean-blue gaze as his eyes collided with hers, and it sent shivers tripping through her entire body in shockwaves. Rachael sent him her most devilish smile, the one that never failed her, and once again it worked like magic as he set down his empty glass and sauntered towards her. His own grin spoke volumes as he drew near, his blue gaze tracing fire across her skin wherever it landed.
Rachael didn’t know how long they stood there like that, neither one talking but both saying more than words ever could as their gazes battled. Heat rose in her cheeks and she had to force her hand to stay still to keep from fanning herself.
Finally, he leaned forward, wrapping her in his deep, spicy, intoxicating scent. His breath tickled her ear and his words teased as they reached her.
“Do you want to get out here?” he asked, gruff and straight to the point. Being straightforward was a trait she could admire in a person. She hated nothing more than coyness. Rachael pulled back just far enough to meet his ocean-blue gaze one more time before she nodded. She didn’t hesitate as she gave her answer, forgetting all about her promise to act like a good maid of honor.
“God yes. Let’s go.”
THE END
Read on for a sample from ROADBURNERS MC #2: RUINED!
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