Grace stood there all dignified with one hand on her hip and the other holding a plastic container. She’d since changed into another awful shirt that covered her chest – baggy and ugly, doing nothing to showcase what I’d caught a glimpse of this morning. She had on a pair of shorts that looked like they used to be a pair of jeans once upon a time. Her hair wasn’t curly like it’d been when she’d woken up and her make-up was perfect. She looked like the Grace she wanted everyone to see. Not the Grace who listened to me and Tiffany last night. Not the Grace who’d woken up on my couch this morning with that sunshine face and wild tangles of hair going every which way. At her feet was a plastic dog crate.

I couldn’t deny the pull in me at the thought of having her beneath me. Her eyes darkened and I remembered my usual blunt conversations weren’t going to shock her as much as I wanted them to. Not like they did with everyone else. Everyone else I could keep at arm’s length, but somehow Grace managed to cross my invisible electric fence and invade my space.

“Stop with the little sister comments. I don’t say anything about you being twelve years my senior, do I?”

She had a point there. I grumbled.

“What’s that?” I stood from my crouched position, dropping the wrench onto the tarp I’d laid out beneath my bike. I’d managed to strip it down to a bare frame and have it sandblasted. I’d already primered it. She was ready to be sanded down and once I feathered the edges, I could prepare her for a paint job.

“Chocolate cake, even though apple pies are my specialty. I brought it to say thank you for letting Echo stay here.”

She couldn’t get any more proper if proper bit her in the ass. “Are you keeping her here all day today? I thought you’d take her with you, wherever you’re going today.” I ignored the cake and wiped my hands on the work rag I had in my back pocket.

“I have to go to school for a little while. I’m implementing a new behavior system for next year and was hoping to have everything ready by the end of the week.”

“It’s only ten. A chocolate cake and a chart for next year. It can’t wait until later in the summer?”

“It’s almost eleven and I like to be organized.”

No kidding. “Take your mutt inside. Make sure she’s in her crate.”

She huffed and turned on her heel, using her dog voice to round the mutt up. I almost followed her in but stopped. The last thing I needed was someone like Grace. I couldn’t deny the fact that she intrigued me. Much more than I let on. Fact was, she reminded me too much of better times. Happier times with Candi.

She pushed into my mind things I’d long since forgotten. Manicures and Pedicures. Stylist appointments. Prim and properness. Bringing food to your neighbors. I didn’t want any of Grace’s sunshine shit. I didn’t need it. Since Candi, there were a lot of things I’d discovered I didn’t need. Things I could live without. I wanted to keep it that way.

I went back to my work in progress, my old man’s 2010 Indian Chief Vintage. Right before he’d gone to prison, he’d wrecked it. Lucky the bastard lived, if you asked me. The group of men my dad rolled around with had just ripped off a tobacco company that was exporting loads of cigarettes and loose tobacco. Once they’d gotten wind of the shipment, they made the jump on one of their rivals and hauled off the truck. One more punch or blow to the head and the truck driver would have been dead. Even though he wasn’t the one who’d been driving the truck, he’d taken off on his bike when he dropped it and the asphalt chewed him up and barely spit him out. Instead of murder, my dad was sitting in the pen on a shitload of charges ranging from tax evasion and hijacking to assault and battery.

Since he was rotting away in prison, I’d taken the liberty of restoring it myself. Had to go to the impound and get a trailer to haul it out. Lucky son of a bitch. Or not. He wasn’t going to be getting out of prison any time soon and I was ok with that. Live hard, die hard. That was the way he’d always lived. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to not be a part of his world. While it’d been okay for him to be a Bastard, he’d made it clear it wasn’t okay for me. Even when there were moments I wanted to be a part of that world. Young enough to believe I could be a part of something and have family.

Since the age of thirteen, I’d grown up on my own with my dad a silent figure in the background. With my mother, Reba, being an addict, she was rarely around, both literally – out somewhere partying – as well as physically – around but so taken by drugs, wasn’t all there. There were many times she was so tanked up on crack I might as well have been by myself.

Shrugging off that bullshit, I eyed the setup in front of me. Along with all the work I’d done to the frame, I’d rebuilt the engine, fixed the entire brake system, as well as the instrument cluster. Miraculously, the handle bars had remained decent. Everything else needed work. That included all the cosmetic stuff like seat reupholstery, new luggage bags, wheels, emblems and that wasn’t to mention a paint job – back to its original colors of willow green and ivory cream. One that would take some time, as I would have to mask all of these additions since I hadn’t painted it before I began assembling it back together.

It’d be a beauty once I was finished with it. She was already peeking through as it was. It’d taken me a while, but I was getting her done. Slowly and surely. When I could focus, and wasn’t working, I could get things done at lightning speed. When my mind wasn’t humming with thoughts of what Grace was doing inside my house right now, I could focus. When I wasn’t thinking about how much I would enjoy learning every square inch of her body and what she liked, I could be productive. She was probably coddling the mutt. What do you need baby? Let mama get that for you. Are you hungry baby? Do you want to sleep with me baby? I’ll keep you warm. I won’t let you go, baby. I’ll take care of you.

She should have named the fucking dog Baby.

“She’s in her crate. Feel free to take her outside in a little while if you have a minute.”

I eyed her as she stood along the edge of the garage, hand on her hip and a smile on her face. How could someone always be so happy? So oblivious to my bad attitude? Oblivious to my dirty thoughts?

“I won’t.”

“Well, you might have a change of heart. By the way, I ran into a friend of yours today.”

“Oh yeah, who was that?”

“Linda. She manages my apartment building. Said to keep Echo out of there. She was shocked that you were letting me keep the dog here.”

“Why? It’s none of her business.”

“She seemed to think it was. I thought maybe you and her…” She cleared her throat.

“What? Me and her screwed? No. Definitely not.”

“She’d like to though?”

“That would be my guess,” I replied.

“Are you going to the Founder’s Day Picnic next Saturday? I was lucky enough to get an entry in the pie auction.”

Was that so? That would make going so much more interesting. Especially if Grace was going to be involved with the bidding war. “Good for you. What kind of pie are you going to enter?”

“Apple. I hope it raises a good chunk of money,” she said worriedly.

“Me too,” I said sincerely.

“Well, bye. I left the cake on the counter.”

I watched her hourglass figure stroll away and toward the elementary school. Linda might want to screw me but she was also Candi’s best friend, and I wasn’t about to delve into that with Grace. After another hour working on the electrical wiring – there’d been a few mishaps I was having with the lights—I wiped my hands and went into the house. I needed a ride. The mutt whined, wanting to be let out. Ignoring it, I undid my boots and shed most of my clothes at the door, greasy and grimy as they were, and headed for the shower.

One last whine from the mutt and I turned in the hallway. “Fine.” I turned back around and crouched down so I could open the crate to let the dog out. It bounded into me, knocking me slightly off balance and my ass landed on the carpet.

“Hey, tiger. Settle down,” I chuckled. She was a complete fur ball. I could barely see her eyes as she pawed all over me. “Easy.”

She rolled onto her back with her shaggy paws in the air and I knew she wanted me to rub her stomach. Sucker that I was, I obliged.

“This doesn’t change anything, fur ball. I’m still sticking to my decision of not liking pets,” I warned as I used my fingers to rub her belly. I hated to admit that it did seem like a sweet dog. I could see how Grace was already getting attached to her.

“Okay, enough’s enough. Back in you go.”

As if the dog understood me, it sat on its hind legs and watched me beneath the puff of bangs, refusing to follow instructions.

“Go,” I pointed toward the crate.

It cocked its head to the side as if to say “screw you” and continued watching me.

“Fine,” I captured it between my hands and pushed her into the crate. “In you go.”

Then I went to my room where I quickly made my bed, adjusted the pillows and went into the master bathroom. Turning the knob to scalding, I got in beneath the heat and welcomed the burn as it washed over me.

Grace Patterson.

Two days ago, I hadn’t a care in the world. No drama. No complications. My biggest complication had been the bike in the garage and the letter I’d gotten from my dad asking for me to come and visit. He also asked me to bring my mom and that cracked me up. I haven’t seen him in two years. I haven’t seen her in longer. Seeing him behind bars was difficult. He was my biological father and I loved him as best as I’d been shown, but knowing who he was before that – class clown who’d turn violent in an instant – it was tough to see his stony expression. The seriousness of that life and how it’d caught him in its web.

He’d been called Joker for longer than I could remember. There couldn’t be a more fitting name for him when he was out in the real world. He’d swear to me that life was the joke and we were all the fools for letting it consume us and turn us into assholes.

Those two things had been my biggest complications until Grace arrived. Granted, it’d only been a day, but she was fucking with me big time. More than I was willing to admit to her. Or anyone for that matter. Especially her brother. Just look at me, happily willing to go to the Founder’s Day Picnic only so I could watch the bidding wars ensue with her entry. There was a reason I steered toward women like Tiffany. They were all about sex and fun – nights spent at the Lazy Dogs Saloon – and enjoyed a good ride on my bike as much as I did.

The coolness in Grace’s eyes when she saw my bike told me she thought them beneath her. Hell, I was sure she thought I was beneath her until I felt the air heat between us when I told her how perfect I thought her tits were. Are. They are perfect but I vowed to myself I couldn’t touch them. Looking was fine but I respected the fuck out of Thatcher and I couldn’t jeopardize our friendship for a quick roll in the hay with his sister. I’m positively certain he would not trust me to be with her in a relationship, let alone as a fuck buddy.

As much as I wanted to.

Christ. Taking my throbbing rod in hand, I pumped and pumped, hoping thoughts of Grace’s cleavage and young, curvy body would stop once I could get this out of me. Her fucking voice—come on baby, let me take care of you. Come on baby, come sleep with me. I released it all, watching as it melded with the spray of water and disappeared down the drain as I rested my arm and head onto the cool tiles.

Irritated, I stepped out and dried off. A ride was in order. No destination in mind, all I could hope for was to clear my head. Get away from her, as well as the mutt I could hear whining in the living room and the bubbling of my past that was threatening to break me.

Just as I laced my boots, Grace waltzed through my front door.

“I’m back,” she smiled.

I sighed.

“What? You aren’t happy to see me?”

“I’m going for a ride.” I glanced up and saw the flash of disappointment on her face. It was quick, as she was good at putting on a front she wanted people to see. Not me. I caught on quickly. “I thought you had work stuff. Behavioral systems.”

She smiled and hell if it didn’t make the corners of my mouth twitch up.

“You remembered.”

“It wasn’t that long ago. Course I remembered. Ask me in two weeks and you’d get a different story.”

“Did you like the cake?”

Shit. I forgot she brought that. I surmised she knew the answer from the look on my face. Again, there was that quick flash of disappointment. What was up with her? She didn’t even like me, save for the sex sounds. At least she didn’t like the way I was – my loud Harley, how she thought I was so unhelpful, as well as my aversion to pets – so why she was disappointed in me, was anyone’s guess.

“I forgot about it. Maybe later.”

“Try it now. Please. It’ll be a nice treat before you go off to where ever you’re going. The Lazy Dogs Saloon or where ever it is that you ride that thing to.”

The tone of her voice was all over the place. It wasn’t the normal confident tone she used when I’d run into her at the feed store. It was like…hope. Hope-filled. And something else I couldn’t identify. The hope shit had me concerned enough. Gracie Patterson was looking to me to make her feel good about baking a cake? The world must be ending.

I opened my mouth to tell her no and made the mistake of looking over at that damn mutt. It, too, sat silently, wide brown eyes watching me as if this were going to be a life-changing event.

“Fine. I’ll grab a bite. Come on.”

She let the dog out of its crate and the two of them followed behind me like an entourage.

“Why are you shaking your head?” she asked as she let the dog outside.

“Was I? Probably because this is not my life.”

“You mean eating the chocolate cake or allowing the dog to stay here?”

Both. Somehow eating the chocolate cake, which I was strictly doing only to make her happy—which was a whole other issue I was going to ponder on my ride because since when had I worried about making anyone happy—but eating that cake was going to take things to a whole new level. My gut had never steered me wrong before and the churning I felt now was a sure sign something was going to be different between us.

As her lithe fingers popped off the lid and exposed the decadent chocolate frosting, she asked, “You aren’t going to answer me?”

“Huh? Oh. I was shaking my head because women don’t bake things for me. Let alone convince me to do something I know isn’t good for me.”

She flipped her perfect hair away from her face. “Since when is chocolate not good for anybody? Biker dude or not?”

“Since I – never mind. Just give me a fucking piece.”

“Fine. You don’t have to get all crabby.”

She reached up to the cupboard – the right one – and withdrew two small plates, “How do you know where I keep all of my dishes?”

“Just seems like the obvious place to me and since I’m learning how unhelpful you are, it’s easier to figure out my way myself.”

“I’m not always unhelpful.”

“Right. Just in my case. Try this.”

She pushed my plate toward me with a large slice of cake on it and the smell of frosting – the fucking smell – reminded me of Candi. Pregnant with her bare feet and belly sticking out, the two of us sharing a slice of chocolate cake. The kind that has frosting in the middle and on the top, moist and almost crumbly. It had been my birthday and she’d bought it for me. I was young then. Pretty much Grace’s age now. I hadn’t a clue how my life would turn upside down two months after that.

Her hand gripped my forearm and I looked down at the contradiction of her small, pale fingers and perfect manicure against my tanned, hairy skin.

“Where’d you go?” she whispered.

Ignoring her and shrugging her hold off me, I picked the cake up, crumbles falling everywhere as I took a large bite, hoping I could swallow down the painful memories of Candi along with the best cake I’d ever had. It slowly melted in my mouth just like the cake from my birthday. The chocolate wasn’t bitter, more of a silky-smooth milk chocolate that coated my mouth and left me wanting more.

I shared a look with Grace, her bright blue eyes beaming with all that happiness and sunshine shit I’d avoided for so long and I felt a stab of guilt. What happened in this woman’s life that she was looking for praise from a man like me?

“So the moaning means you like?”

“I didn’t moan.”

“You did. It was low in your throat. Not the growling kind you do when you don’t want to answer my questions but a sort of low sound like you’re enjoying it.”

“I hardly notice I do that,” I smiled.

She fidgeted with the plastic lid as she watched me lick frosting off my fingers.

“You do it almost all the time. At least when I’m around.”

She brought the cake up to her lips. Her mouth parted, her wet tongue darted out and licked the frosting. Her eyes closed momentarily before she shoved a small corner into her mouth.

“Mmmm,” she moaned. “I could see why you let out such a moan, it’s delicious. But I’ve made better.” She lowered her eyes again as she consumed another bite, savoring the chocolate like she’d never tasted it before.

Suddenly, I was tempted to find out what she’d do if I kissed her, sharing in on those last remnants of chocolate in her mouth. Or better yet, if I pressed myself into her hips, zipper to zipper so she could feel what she was doing to me. Heat blazed between us. Her gaze dropped to my lips.

I leaned forward, closing the space between us and pressed my mouth to her lips. I coaxed her stiff lips open with my tongue and caught her whimper as I shifted gears, ready to devour her.

My phone jingled on the counter, breaking the moment, and when I reluctantly pulled away, her eyes were wide with surprise. Was she surprised I kissed her? Or was she surprised at how great it’d felt for those brief moments? Thatcher’s name lit up my screen as the phone vibrated something fierce. This was why she shouldn’t bring dessert over. This was why we had to keep our distance. At least me. She seemed to be utterly clueless to how she made me feel while she stood there a mere foot from me as she sucked the little bits of frosting off her fingers from where the cake had been.

Christ.

“Hello?”

“Cap, what’s going on?”

“Thatch, my man.” Grace looked up in surprise, shaking her head. “Yeah, stop by. I’m home.”

I shrugged, what was I going to do? I couldn’t tell him no. I shouldn’t have to tell him no just because his hot-as-fuck sister was standing next to me in a panic. Her and I had a non-existent, yet existent, relationship—how confusing was that?—and what Thatcher and I had was awfully damn tight—much more than her and I.

“Okay. See ya soon, man.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you tell him you weren’t here?”

“I couldn’t. He’s bringing me something. Are you going to stand there and pout or get your ass out of here? It’s your call, Princess. We can hash this out when he shows up,” I offered.

She huffed and puffed and let the mutt back in. Neither one of us mentioned the kiss. She scooped the mutt up and with a dirty look thrown over her shoulder, she hustled out the front door. When it slammed shut, I let out a hoot of laughter. What was I doing? What was I getting myself in to with her? One minute she pretended like she was on top of the world – I’m a woman hear me roar – and the next she acted like she needed reassurance from me to make her happy.

Intriguing. Confident. Smart. Innocent.

But naughty.

No. I did not need her in my life, no matter how much I wanted her in my life.

I’d have to make a point to be occupied when she came around.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could fuck with Tiffany when the woman I wanted waltzed into my house numerous times a day, acting sassy and looking sexy, feeding my sweet tooth with all her glorious goods.