Duck (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 8) (13 page)

The cold water closed over his head, washing away the sweat and grime of their day, isolating him in near silence. As a kid, he’d spent some of nearly every summer day in the water, either swimming the creek or a tank like this, so for him, it was another moment of coming home, this time in a good way.

“I was hot,” he explained when he surfaced, seeing the shock still in place on Eli’s features change to a pleased grin. “Thought you probably were, too.” He reached out a long arm, settled his hand on top of Eli’s head and pushed, dunking him under the water. An again sputtering Eli surfaced and kicked towards him, climbing Reuben’s shoulders like a monkey in an attempt to return the favor. He failed, and went sailing over Reuben’s head to land in the water, fingers pinching his nose closed, delight on his face.

They played in the water for twenty minutes, feet sliding on the slick metal bottom of the tank as they pretended to fight. Dunking each other under the water again and again until the laughter of the ranch hands registered. Gathered nearby on their way in for the midday meal, the men were standing close, but out of the splash zone. Reuben stood, the water nearly reaching his waist, feeling the liquid sluicing from his body. He turned to see Brenda standing on the newly repaired and painted porch, a broad smile on her face.

“Watch this,” he mock-whispered to Eli as he climbed over the edge of the trough, saturated socks slapping against the dusty path leading to the porch. Taking the steps two at a time, he reached out and grabbed Brenda before she realized what he was about to do, throwing her over his shoulder and walking back towards the tank. Her pounding fists against his back were far from painful, and he was aware of her rounded ass right beside his head. “Bee,” he called, making sure she could hear him over her protests. “You got anything in your pockets that can’t get wet?”

“Don’t you dare.
No!
You put me down, Reuben. Don’t do this!” she yelled at him, and he turned his head, nipping at her ass and drawing an indignant-sounding squeak from her. “Don’t!”

“Last chance to salvage anything that can’t get wet,” he warned her, bringing her down from his shoulder and into his arms as he stood next to the tank. Glancing down, looking her over, he didn’t see any bulges in her pockets, and fortunately, her feet were already bare. “You ain’t got anything on ya, do ya, Bee?” While he waited for her response, he used his heels, alternately trapping the toes of his muddy socks, tugging the encasing cotton from his feet, leaving the soiled proof of his travels lying in the dirt.

“Don’t,” she said again, twisting to try and free herself but he tightened down, holding her firmly in place against his chest. He hiked up his ass, putting it on the edge of the tank, balancing there for a moment. She yelled at him, her voice rising an octave. “Don’t, Reuben! I’m warning you!”

Swinging his legs into the tank, he walked one slow step at a time through the water and over to where Eli was floating on his back. The boy’s eyes were closed, face upturned, ears riding just below the surface blocking out most of the noises. Reuben grinned, this way the boy could always claim ignorance later if he caught grief for not helping his momma out.

“One,” Reuben counted and her muscles tensed all over her body, hands clutching at his soaked shirt, her wordless shriek sounding loud over the laughter of the ranch hands.

“Two,” he said, and she made a different noise, turning and pressing her head into his chest.

“Three,” he called, and threw himself over backwards, taking her with him, plunging them both underneath the heated layer of water and into the chill nearer the bottom.

With Brenda still in his arms, he got his legs underneath him and crouched, bringing their heads and shoulders out of the water. “I hate you,” she whispered, reaching up to push her wet hair out of her face.

He glanced over, seeing Eli watching from the corner of his eye. “I love you,” he whispered back, dipping his mouth briefly to hers, the kiss tender and sweet.

“Go out to dinner with me.” Reuben’s tone was wheedling and sweet, coming from behind her as she stood by the kitchen sink, rinsing the lunch dishes. “I’ll take you into Midland. We’ll have a nice meal. We could go dancing or take in a sit-down movie. Does that sound good, Bee?”

Without turning around, she smiled, dipping her chin towards her chest.
Hell, yes, it sounds good
, she thought, but before she could respond, he stepped close behind her, fitting his front to her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. Chin on her shoulder, he nuzzled into the side of her neck, restating his plea on a whisper. “Please.”

Still smiling, she nodded, and he gave her a tight squeeze. “Go get ready, Bee. I’ll finish up in here.” In his arms, she turned and lifted to press her mouth to his, marveling at the sure knowledge he wouldn’t turn her away, would kiss her back. That he wanted this as much as she did. He groaned against her lips, and there was a sharp sting as his palm dropped hard on her ass. “Woman,” he growled, nipping at her bottom lip, “go get ready. Stop makin’ trouble for yourself.”

“What kind of trouble am I making?” With a grin, she raised to her toes and kissed him again.

It had been like this for the last few days, ever since she’d found him nearly broken, and then together, they'd put the pieces back into place. Eli had quickly become accustomed to how possessive Reuben was, and while he still watched their exchanges with a considering eye, his smiles and interactions with Reuben were becoming more natural every day.

His voice had changed to rough and needy when he said, “The best kind of trouble if you want me buried deep inside you in about two minutes.” Gently nibbling up the side of her neck, he swatted her butt again, and she moved sideways, coming to a stop against his strong arm. He slipped it around her waist, holding her in place so his mouth never left her skin. Glancing at the refrigerator, she focused for a moment on the calendar pinned there with magnets and then groaned.

“We can’t do either,” she said, tipping her head back to look up at him. “The event vet is supposed to be on site tonight to inspect the arena and treatment areas. We have to be there.” Shaking her head, she snorted a laugh. “I can’t believe the rodeo is nearly here already.”

“Home after the inspection then?” He leaned close, brushing his lips delicately across hers as his hand slipped down her back, cupping her ass cheek, and pulling her against him, letting her feel the hardness of his erection. Whispering, he said, “You’re all I want to eat, anyway,” grinning as she gasped, his words causing heat to flare in her belly. “But after the rodeo, I’m taking you out on a proper date, Bee.”

Stepping back on unsteady legs, she tipped her chin down and nodded. “Home with you sounds phenomenal. Let me finish up in here, and we can head out.”

The heat from his hands covered her shoulders for a moment, then his palms slid up her neck as he cupped his hands around her, running a thumb softly along her jawline. He stared into her eyes searchingly, tipping her chin up. She didn’t know what he found there, but after a moment, he bent down and kissed her with a small, satisfied sound. Stroking her tongue with his, delving deep into her mouth, not stopping until her breath came ragged and she felt drugged, sinking against his chest with a sigh. His mouth pressed to the top of her head, and he said, “Love you, Bee.”

Sounds outside were rapidly approaching the house and Brenda recognized the excitement in her son’s voice as he called for her. “Mom,
Mom!
” She stepped slightly away from Reuben and was facing the door when it slammed open. The screen door slapped against the end of the spring and banged shut behind Eli as he sprinted inside, boots sliding for purchase on the wooden floor. “Mom! Gill said the new vet worked magic and Breezy is ready to ride! Essa’s good to go for the rodeo!” Eli’s joy was contagious and she found herself returning his grin as he ricocheted across the room, arms pinwheeling for balance.

“Excellent news,” she said, reaching out to steady him as he slid to a stop in front of her. “She’s due for a break in her luck. This could be exactly what she needs.”

Eli nodded, head moving up and down quickly as he stood, looking up at her. Bottom lip clenched firmly between his teeth, a half-smile curled the edges of his mouth up in an expression she recognized. She had seen that exact look on Reuben’s face not five minutes ago, just before he’d kissed her.
You have got to tell the man
, she scolded herself, feeling the dark cloud of worry settle over her. She knew with every passing day it became harder to come up with a rational reason to delay. She wanted to tell him, needed to, but the timing never seemed right.

“Want to come with us to the grounds? We’re meeting the vet in a little while. Ice cream afterwards?” Reuben offered this casually and Eli’s face lit with pleasure as he peered around her and up at the big man.

“Heck, yeah,” he yelled, spinning and running flat out at the door, hitting the surface with his palms and shoving it wide to crash back into the frame behind him. His voice trailed, “I’ll be in the truck.”

Before she could turn around, Reuben had pressed up against her back, arms wrapping around her to hold tight. Nuzzling against the side of her head, he peppered soft kisses on her cheek, up her temple and into her hairline. “He’s a good little man,” he murmured and she stiffened. His next words told her he had noticed and had mistaken her reaction for something it wasn’t.

“Don’t do that, Bee. Don’t be mad. I wouldn’t ever try to take his dad’s place, but I love how good that boy is. You’ve done such a good job with him, and he’s so tough and sweet. Protective of his momma, wanting only to do right.” He nibbled on her earlobe, gently pulling it into his mouth and sucking softly. “You, however, are purely sweet and delicious.” Nipping harder, he growled, “Makes me want to eat you right up. Lap at your honey, my Little Bee.”

Relaxing into his arms, she twisted her head and offered her lips. “I’m all yours,” she said in between kisses and smiled to hear the hum of pleasure deep in his throat.

***

Reuben glanced across the cab of the truck, laughing at the cacophony of sound coming from the passenger side as Brenda and Elias competed for the lead part in some country western ballad. The boy mischievously put his palm across his mother’s mouth to quiet her, and she just as mischievously pretended to bite him.

When he laughed and continued to try to prevent her from singing, it looked as if she had licked his hand because Elias quickly drew it back with a disgusted, “Gross, Mom,” as he wiped it on his pants leg. His antics pulled uncontrolled laughter from Brenda and Reuben frowned for a moment, loving the sound but wishing she did it more often. Laughing, carefree. It transformed her face, making her natural beauty something stunning, but more than that, the exuberant merriment was filled with such joy and a freedom he loved to hear from her.

Glancing ahead, he saw the bar where he had seen bikes before coming up on the right, and realized with a shock there were probably more than a hundred on the lot now.
Fuck. That’s a lot of fucking bikes
. Men stood around in groups, looking at the bikes, talking and comparing rides, as bikers do, and this gave him a chance to get a good look at the cuts they wore. Each had a central patch with an American flag, set alongside empty boots and a gun. He knew that patch, knew it well. These men were Southern Soldiers.

Jerking the truck off the road and into the far corner of the lot, he parked, setting the brake as he muttered, “Need a minute, Bee,” when she asked a question, but he didn’t pay much attention to her words. He had seen a face he recognized in one of the groups, and needed to pay his respects. “Wait in the truck.”

As he climbed out of the vehicle, he saw three groups of men were already moving towards him, converging on the corner where he had parked, and he didn’t want that. There was no need for Bee and Eli to hear anything citizens didn’t need to know, so he quickly moved away from the truck, walking towards one of the groups. The lead man in the crowd called out a casual sounding question, “You in the right place, man?”

With a nod, he walked past them, using his agility to maneuver through and around each man who reached out to halt his progress. He quickly found himself behind them, listening to curses and shouts rising from all sides. He stopped in place and put his balled fists on his hips, shocked for a moment there wasn’t leather underneath his hands, and then he threw his head back and roared, “Fucking shit, Watcher. The hell you doin’ in my hometown?”

His shout called down silence around him, drawing the stare of every man on the lot. At his name, the head of the man he had seen jerked up and twisted to look at him. The dark stare would have unnerved most men, but the smile that followed it warmed his heart. “Duck,” Watcher called, his long strides eating up the distance between them. “I think the question is what the fuck are you doin’ in
my
town?”

First clasping wrists, then drawn into a back-thudding one-armed embrace, the two men wordlessly greeted each other. Watcher, a longtime friend and national president of the Southern Soldiers, pulled back first, having apparently noticed the lack of a patch underneath his fist, because his next question was a hushed, “What the fuck, man? Where are your goddamned colors?”

“I’m not here officially,” Duck reassured him. “I didn’t want to stir shit, so I told Mason I’d respect with removal. They’re hanging in my closet out on the ranch.”

“Ranch? You’re really from here, then? No shit? Hometown boy?” Watcher shook his head in surprised disbelief, motioning several men forward. “Good to see you, regardless, Duck. While you’re here, want you to meet some of my local men.”

For the next fifteen minutes, he was introduced and reintroduced to men who wore the Soldiers’ patch. Some of the men were from Lamesa and he knew their family connections, if not the individuals, but most had been assigned to the chapter here in town, relocated from other chapters across the southern United States and northern Mexico.

Watcher was talking through some things he was working with another club to put into place, when his gaze moved to over Duck’s shoulder, and he nodded towards whatever he saw. “Brother, your old lady got tired of waitin’.”

Fuck
, Duck thought, turning to see Brenda walking towards him, her stride uncertain as she gave each group of men a wide berth, skirting the edges of the ones she couldn’t avoid entirely. Seeing she had his attention, she picked up her pace, a tentative smile on her lips that did not come close to reaching her eyes. “Brenda,” he called, holding out an arm invitingly. He frowned when she didn’t step into his embrace, but gripped his hand instead, staying a couple of feet away.

“Watcher, this is Brenda Calloway. She’s been running my stock contracting business for years.” He tugged on her hand, pulling her closer so he could slip an arm around her waist. She stiffened, every muscle rigid, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze as he said, “She’s with me.”

Watcher inclined his head in a slow nod, but his eyes didn’t leave Duck’s face as he said, “Pleased, Brenda. We’ll be done with your old man here in a minute.” At his dismissive words, she jerked and Duck looked down to see a dark cloud of anger settle on her features.

Not acknowledging the thin greeting from Watcher, she fixed her gaze on Duck. “Vet’s waiting, Reuben.” He winced at her use of his government name and heard a few snorts of laughter from the men in the group. “We have an appointment.”

Looking down at her, he nodded in response, and then looked back at Watcher, because the business she had interrupted was something they had to get sorted soon. “Watch, I got some shit to take care of right now, but can meet you tonight. Nine okay?” He returned Watcher’s nod, saying, “See you then. You cool with my colors?”

“Disturbed to see you without them now, brother,” Watcher told him somberly, conveying that while he grasped the reasoning behind the actions, he did not appreciate Duck slipping into their territory for nearly two weeks without placing a call to inform the local chapter.

“Understood,” he responded, letting go of a silent Brenda to reach out for a warrior’s shake with Watcher. Turning to leave, he nodded at every man who said his name in farewell or met his eye, then walked away, returning his arm to its position around her waist. Peering towards the truck, he saw Elias standing in the back, having crawled out the sliding back window of the cab, probably in order to keep an eye on his mother. Brenda split from Duck when they got to the truck and he let her go, reaching up to pluck Eli from the bed, setting him on the ground and watching as the boy ran around to where Brenda waited by the passenger door.

Back in the truck, the lighthearted atmosphere from earlier had entirely bled away, leaving a tense hush that told him Brenda was waiting for an explanation. Shaking his head, he glanced at her, noting the thin line her lips made as she stared forward. Neither of them spoke, and he finally reached out and turned the radio up, filling the silence with music they all ignored.

Stopping beside the office on the rodeo grounds, he parked the truck and sat still for a moment as both Brenda and Elias climbed out the passenger side. Staring around at the setting, he was rattled, feeling a strange disconnection from where he’d been only a half an hour before. In the brief conversation with Watcher, Duck had gotten so deep into club headspace he found he needed a minute to pull out his Reuben persona.