CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Wednesday
The next morning, Manda woke when a toilet flushed on the other side of the wall. She lay listening as a shower went on. She heard T's deep voice grumbling something, then water splashed.
She yawned and lay picturing him with water streaming down his big frame, and his wild hair sleeked back wet. M-mm, nice.
She was pretty sure if she went next door and offered to wash his back, he wouldn't turn her down.
The thought of his powerful, calloused hand smoothing soap over her body was intriguing as well. In fact, it made her move restlessly under the warm covers. She felt pretty good, she realized. Her head didn't hurt, her bruises were muted. She was out of recovery mode, and she wanted a man's touch. Specifically the man in the next room.
But, time to stop that train before it pulled into the station. She wasn't leaping into anything with another guy. She needed to get her life on track, by herself, and once she did that, she'd begin paying back her massive debt to T-Bear.
She sat up. Six a.m. according to her phone. She slid out of the bed, pausing to make it neatly. If anyone looked in, she didn't want it to look like she wasn't taking care of the room, like it didn't matter to her that she was allowed to stay here.
She hurried to use the toilet, then shower and towel off. A quick lotion, and she pulled on the red tee and jeans she'd worn yesterday. She hadn't worn either long enough to get them dirty.
Pushing her feet into the sneakers, she finger-combed her wet hair behind her ears, and stepped out of the room.
T was just coming out of his room next door. He wore dark work pants, a faded white tee that molded to his massive shoulders and arms, then bagged around his waist, and heavy work boots. His hair was combed back damply, but curls were already springing free around his forehead. His beard had drops of water in it still.
When he saw her, he stopped short, and then smiled, his eyes warm. "Well, don't you look awake and ready to go," he said. "You didn't have to get up early just 'cause we are."
"I've been sleeping for three days. I'm ready to be up and around."
"Well, hey then, come and have breakfast with Moke and me."
"M&M," she said, and they both laughed a little.
"That's right." He put his big hand on the small of her back, and walked her across the hall into the kitchen. And if she wanted to lean into him and inhale his fresh, masculine scent and savor his warmth, she hid it. Or so she hoped.
Moke sat at the kitchen table, a mug of steaming coffee at hand. Head down, he was steadily spooning cooked cereal into his mouth. He didn't look up when they came in.
"Moke likes to be quiet in the mornin'," T told her, making no effort to lower his voice as he urged her toward the coffee pot. "Don't mean he doesn't like ya."
Manda nodded, self-conscious at talking about T's friend who was within easy earshot. T handed her a mug with scratched pink letters on the side, and poured coffee into his own mug. She lifted her mug to read the slogan on the side. She was pretty sure it said 'I live 4 caffeine'.
T filled the mug for her. "Can I fix you some breakfast?" she offered.
"Nah, thanks. I usually just eat cereal on work days. Then I have a snack mid-morning."
"Second breakfast," she said, smiling into her cup. "But what about elevenses?"
"Hey," he said, chinking his mug gently against hers. "Lord of the Rings fan, right?"
"Absolutely. And the Hobbit."
"Me too. I got the audio-book." He never said he had the book itself, she noted.
Oh, well, lots of people didn't really like to read. She could not imagine that state of mind herself. One of the things that had bothered her the most, after Tim left her at the Pine Cabins was that she had nothing to read to while away the time. Give her a good fantasy, romance or historical, and she could endure a lot.
She hadn't felt well enough in the hospital to read, even if she'd had a book.
But now, she realized with a little flip of excitement, she could use her new phone to find books. She had some stored on her account at one of the major book sales sites, and she could happily re-read some of her favorites.
T-Bear moved on to where a crock-pot sat on the counter, steaming gently. "Here's the oatmeal if you want some. But you can eat anything else you want too. Rocker has granola in the cupboard here somewhere, and there's always eggs and bread and shit in the frig."
"Oatmeal's fine," she assured him, although she honestly could not remember the last time she'd eaten it. It was funny and surprising to learn these two huge, tough men did so regularly.
"Good, 'cause it's real good for you, and heart healthy too. Or so Moke says. He sets the timer the night before, so it's ready when we get up, and alls I gotta do is eat it. I'm all about that."
He dished himself a huge bowl of the stuff. She smiled to herself, because his was definitely a Papa Bear-sized serving. She chose a much smaller bowl from the cupboard, added a ladle of oatmeal and set the lid back on the crock-pot. "Do you want me to turn this off?"
"Nah, Streak'll have some when he gets here in a while. He'll deal with the pot then."
"Does he work with you at your garage?" she asked as she joined him across from Moke at the table. She was relieved to see brown sugar, cream and milk on the table.
"Streak? Nah, he bartends at The Hangar for Pete and Lesa. Works around here, too, and does odd jobs on the side. Kid's a workin' machine."
Manda took a cautious bite of sugar and cream laced oatmeal, and discovered it was actually yummy. "He must be saving for something big," she said.
T and Moke exchanged a look. "Gives it all to his ex," T-Bear said. "For his little boy."
Moke shoved back his chair and rose. "Later," he said, and walked away to set his dishes in the sink.
"Bye," Manda said.
Moke slid a look sideways at her and lifted his chin before disappearing out the door. He was interesting. He and T seemed to be close, and Moke didn't radiate suspicion the way Pete did with her, he was just... quiet. He gave her hope that if more of the Flyers were like him, she might not feel so out of place here, when T wasn't around.
Manda ate her cereal and drank her coffee while T worked his way through his own cereal. "Streak sounds like a really good guy," she said. "A lot of men don't bother with child support, or even visit after they leave." Like her own father.
"Flyer brothers do," T told her. "We got two providin' support, even though their baby mamas are with other guys now. And three raising kids on their own. No, make that two, 'cause Stick and his boys have Sara now."
"Stick is your leader?" Manda asked.
"President of our chapter. Rocker's vice-pres, Bouncer's sergeant-at-arms. Moke and me are patched in members. You all done?"
She looked down at her empty bowl in surprise. "I guess so."
She was still absorbing this new information about all the kids attached to the Flyer club. He'd told her at the hospital that these men had families and children. But hearing that some of them were devoted fathers, even of absent children, boosted her impression of the club even more.
There went the remnants of her idea that they were all swinging singles with nothing and no one but themselves to care for.
"You wanna hang out here today?" T asked, shoving back his chair. "Or you could come to work with us for a while."
"I'll come with you.” She really didn't want to hang around here all day. She was done napping and staring at walls and worrying about her future when she was awake. And for some reason, going with him was more appealing than losing herself in a book. "If I won't be in your way."
He grinned down at her. "You be in my way? Not hardly. An' if you get a headache or somethin', I can always swing you back here."
"Okay." She sincerely hoped she was done with headaches. The bruise on her head where Jere had pushed her into the storeroom wall was still tender to the touch, but the swelling had gone down. And she had the painkillers prescribed at the hospital, which she could use for another week as needed.
At least one bruise was covered by her hair. She'd used some of the foundation that T's friends had given her, mixed with moisturizer, and toned down the bruising on her face. Some eye-shadow, carefully applied, had helped disguise her black eye too.
Soon it would be gone altogether, and she could start applying for jobs. If she had to work two at a time, she'd do it. She was going to get back on her feet, and repay T-Bear...and most of all, regain her self-respect.
Manda rose and followed T to the sink, where he and Moke had left their messy bowls. She rinsed them out along with hers, and stacked them in the dishwasher next to the sink. Then she opened drawers until she found the towels and dish cloths , and wet one to wipe down the table.
Refilling his mug with coffee, T watched her with approval. "Oh, Sara's gonna like you," he said.
"Just trying to be a good guest." She took a quick look around for anymore mess before hanging the cloth on the side of the sink.
He grinned at her over his mug. "You're the best kind of guest—pretty, sweet and you like my jokes."
Oh, he made it hard for her to remember she needed to keep her distance from him. "Only the funny ones."
He chuckled. "Fair enough. Get your shit and let's get out of here."
Manda hesitated. “Do I look okay?” she asked, pushing her hair back and then pulling it forward over her ear again. “I mean… I don’t want to make your customers uncomfortable.”
“Huh?” T-Bear gave her a strange look, then shook his head. “You look fine. You look like a strong woman who took some knocks and came back up fightin’. So don’t you worry for one minute what anybody else thinks—worry ‘bout what you think of them, huh?”
Her face heated, but she smiled at him. “Okay.”