Bikers and Pearls (12 page)

He was confused about everything—especially April. Even through her apprehension of
him and the bikers, she kept working for Ben. Slug and his broken mirror may have
started it, but there was more. He could tell. Though he wasn’t sure where to begin,
he still wanted to unravel the rest of the complicated young woman.

Bull washed his hands in the garage sink. It was only a couple days until that silent
auction at that hoity-toity country club that April knew so well.

He walked to his office to complete some paperwork. A strange question shot through
his head. What was he going to wear? Before April, he always knew how to dress. It
would be jeans and a leather vest or chaps and a fringed jacket. Why should he even
be thinking about a set of clothes to wear to a stuck-up old country club?

He could have some fun if he wore his leather suit—jacket, pants, and tie—all 100
percent black leather. But no. Not this time. He didn’t want to embarrass April.

No. More than that. He wanted to impress her.

Imagine that.

As he filed some of the paperwork he was working on, he noticed his tattoo. The one
with the dark angel, laden with chains and leather, holding a gun in one hand and
a sword in the other. He wished he hadn’t marked himself with the anarchy. It served
to remind him how different he and April were. He didn’t like the reminder. It was
time to do something he’d been thinking about for a while. Alter the Rebel Angel.
He decided to make an appointment to change the weapons in the dark angel’s hands
to symbols that represented who he was now.

The Angel would forever be a part of him. He hoped that April would understand that.
Yep. He wanted to impress her, but he couldn’t do it if it meant giving up who he
was.

…

Bull pulled up to April’s condo, walked inside the building, and knocked on her door.
He looked down at his expensive designer suit and could hardly believe he was wearing
it.

When she opened the door and he saw her, something tumbled in his heart.

What had he done right lately? Her lace dress was nearly the color of her skin. She
looked so soft. Innocent and sexy at the same time.

“You are perfectly beautiful,” he said. She was. He simply wanted to push her back
into her condo, turn down the lights, and trace the curvy patterns on her dress. All
over her dress. And if she didn’t mind that, he could trace a few other curves, as
well. He took a couple of steps inside.

“Thank you,” she said and smiled. She touched his tie and ran her fingers down to
the button of his suit. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

Bull searched for words. Appropriate ones. “I have the jacket in the car.” That was
dumb.

“Jacket?” she asked as she picked up a beaded purse from the coffee table.

“You know. The jacket Crank asked us to bring,” he said.

“Oh, yeah.” Her smile was angelic.

He stared some more, unable to speak.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Do you want to take my car?”

“I drove the Escalade.” He wished he had a Rolls or a Jaguar or a Mercedes—something
less aggressive-looking and more suited to this woman all dressed in lace and pearls.
The Escalade would have to do tonight, though.

He watched her as she walked over to turn out a lamp. Her tan-colored shoes matched
her dress. Mmmmmm. Her ankles were sculpted. Her calves were curved. Hips that belonged
on a movie star. A waist that he could encircle with one arm. And her breasts. The
dress dipped to expose their tops, and with each step she took, he rattled inside,
matching the bounce of the swells spilling out the lace neckline.

He couldn’t resist. He took a couple steps toward her and put his hand on her almost
absent waist and it encircled half of it. Bending down to her hair, he inhaled. She
stilled. Then to her shoulder. He breathed her in again. He gently ran his lips up
the side of her neck and whispered in her ear. “I wanted to see if you smelled as
good as you looked.”

She turned her head up to him. “And do I?”

“Mmmmmm,” he growled in her ear. He moved his lips along her cheeks until he reached
her mouth, and then he covered it with his and took in a huge taste. Sweet. And now
his pants didn’t quite fit the way they had when he first arrived. He spoke against
her lips. “I was hoping you’d planned on kissing me again.”

She pulled in several ragged draws of air. “I’m afraid I’ve not been very good at
planning anything lately,” she said as he felt the heat of her breath on his lips.
“Especially you.”

“Well, we do have plans for the evening, so, as much as I like this, we’d better get
going,” he said. Man, he couldn’t believe he had the strength to say that. But if
he stayed a moment longer, he couldn’t trust himself to be the gentleman that April
needed.

As he drove, he half wished for red lights so that he could gaze at her.

“So, tell me about your family,” she said.

He wished she hadn’t asked about that. “Not much to tell. You already know about Adam.
Dad split when Adam was diagnosed. Mom worked two jobs to keep the lights on.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That had to have been tough.”

He nodded.

“Left here,” she said.

“What about yours?” He made the turn.

“Normal. Mother. Father. And me. Daddy owned a hardware store. Lived in Summerbrook
all my life. They’ve always been very supportive. And overprotective. Along with my
grandparents. I was very close to my Mimi before she passed a few years back,” she
said.

Yep. Bull sort of knew all of that. It was the kind of family he’d wanted as a child.
Life, however, dealt him another hand.

“Take a right at the next light.”

He pulled up to the door of the Oaks Country Club. Heat flashed over his face. The
last thing he wanted to do tonight was to embarrass April. His unbound hair would
be out of place with the country club crowd. He knew that. He had it as slicked back
and as tame as he could get it. Maybe his expensive suit and Italian shoes would make
up for it.

He knew better, though. He was in the small-town South. And he knew the code—the unwritten
regulations for proper Southerners—the rules that were mostly passed down from generation
to generation through disapproving looks and innuendo. No ponytails, leather, or inappropriate
hobbies. They were only a part of the list of reasons for exclusion from haute Southern
society. He might pass with the regular folk, but not with the crowd of land-inheriting,
anciently named snobs he was about to meet. It didn’t matter how much he spent on
his shoes, his hair marked him as an outsider. Oh, they’d be pleasant enough to his
face—only because Southern manners required it.

After they’d pulled up, he opened April’s door. She appeared to just float out the
vehicle. He didn’t even want to be here now. Couldn’t he drive her to White Point
Gardens in downtown Charleston, sit alone with her on a bench, and just talk with
her the whole evening?

Oh. That’s right. The jacket
. All he could think about was April. And the taste of her mouth. For a moment, he
wished he could leave the coat in his SUV. He could donate five or six hundred dollars
and leave it there so as not to make himself stand out so much from his beautiful
date. But that would be a little dishonest, and he had promised Crank. So he got the
fringed jacket with the Harley insignia on the front and back and folded it, wishing
to diminish its presence.

He handed the keys to the valet.

“This way,” April said, as she walked toward the grand entrance. The facade was white
stucco and the walk was tabby—a mixture of concrete and oyster shell, a common construction
material in the Lowcountry, a historic area along the South Carolina coast. The building
looked like something from
Gone With the Wind,
the movie his mother used to watch when he was a kid. He was certainly gone with the
wind, or at least gone with the little waft of heavenly scented air April left in
her wake as she walked. This was serious.

A host and hostess greeted them at the door.

“The silent auction is in the Azalea Room, and refreshments and the raffle are in
the Oak Room. We’re raffling off a jet ski, a diamond necklace, and a couple of other
big items,” the hostess said.

Bull thought April would look good in a diamond necklace.

“May I take your…coat?” the man asked.

Bull recognized the tone in the man’s voice. “It’s a donation.”

The host gingerly took the jacket from Bull. April looked up from filling out their
registration tickets. “Anything wrong?” she asked.

Bull shook his head. Nothing could really be wrong tonight. Not while he was with
her.

“Good. I put our names on the two free tickets,” she said.

“Can we buy more?” he asked the woman behind the table.

The perky young hostess chimed in with her super Southern drawl. “You certainly can.
We’re here to raise money for that darlin’ little boy with leukemia. You may buy as
many as you like.”

“Give me twenty-five tickets.”

“Sir, I don’t think you understand.” She leaned in to him. “They are twenty dollars
apiece.”

No, she didn’t just assume that he didn’t have the money. Anger rose up in his chest.
“Make that thirty then. Under one condition,” he said as he doled out the six hundred
dollars onto the table and covered them with his hand.

“Anything.” A smile enveloped her face, and she touched the hand that covered the
money.

Things changed when she figured out he was walking around with a load of Grants in
his pockets.

“You write this pretty lady’s name on each one so that I can take care of her and
get her something to drink,” he said and abruptly pulled his hand away.

“Oh,” the woman said flatly. Her smile disappeared. “I can do that.”

He told her April’s name, turned toward his date, and smiled.

April stood, smiling with an appreciation of the situation. As he walked her down
the long, wide corridor, he saw men’s heads turn as she passed. He stepped up beside
her and placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her. To show everyone that
he was with the most beautiful woman in the building.

The corridor opened up into a cavernous ballroom. Showtime. Bling. And phonies. Like
he had figured.

“You want some punch?” he asked.

Her deep brown eyes widened and she said, “I’m parched. Please.”

“Be right back,” he said, and couldn’t have meant it more. He didn’t want to leave
her in the first place, but he was as thirsty as she was. Something about her made
his mouth quit working properly.

In moments he was back, and already two sissy-looking guys in suits and
GQ
haircuts were at April’s side. “Here you are, sweetheart,” he said, hoping the word
of familiarity would scare the posers away without scaring the daylights out of April.

“Thanks, darling,” she said and smiled. She was quick.

The two lawyer types made their excuses, walked a few paces away, and whispered to
one another.

This was what it was going to be like to be with her. It wasn’t even fair of him to
subject her to such small-town narrow-mindedness. Because he wasn’t about to change.
Nothing was wrong with him. It was everybody else and their hang-ups that were the
problems. He looked at April. Though he wanted her so, he couldn’t see how this was
ever going to work.

…

April felt bad for Bull. She hadn’t fully realized the extent of the nonverbal criticism
people like him had to face from the likes of “society people.” She looked him over.
Really, the only thing that made him different that night was his hair. Otherwise,
he was better dressed and more handsome than the whole lot of the men at the club.

If they lived in a large metropolitan city, no one would probably even care.

If she admitted it, she had kind of been like them, too. She had been, and it had
been wrong, even though she’d had good reason. She didn’t feel disapproving tonight,
not around Bull.

When she had opened her front door, she’d had to hold on so that her knees wouldn’t
buckle. He was so handsome. She even liked the way his hair was smoothed down and
the way it curved out at the bottom of his neck. His form was formidable, charismatic,
engaging. She didn’t want to take her eyes off him.

Never in her life had she had such a reaction to a man. Jenna would kill her if she
knew.

April checked her watch. Where was Jenna? She looked up, searching the Oak Room. It
was cavernous. She couldn’t help thinking, though, that they’d missed an opportunity
when they didn’t have some kind of center decoration, like a fountain, or one of those
large, round tables with a huge vase of flowers, or, perhaps, a statue.

April was blindsided with a hug. It was Brooke Alston, from the Ladies League. “I’m
still waiting for your application and for you to come to a meeting so that we can
move your membership forward,” she said with a smile. Brooke was with the hospitality
committee at the league. “Who is your gentleman friend?”

“I’m Bullworth Clayton,” he said and shook her hand.

“I’m so glad to meet you,” Brooke said. “And thank you so much for the jacket you
brought tonight. I saw you hand it to the host when you came in, but I was tied up
in the room behind you guys.”

She glanced back at April and then at Bull. “If there’s anything I can help you with
tonight, let me know. Refreshments are over there.” She pointed. “And restrooms are
in the back.”

April and Bull thanked her. April loved her disposition and friendliness. If everyone
at the league were like her, she’d be in a much bigger hurry to join.

“April,” Jenna called from across the ballroom with her hand in the air. As she maneuvered
around the room and made her way over, she chatted with people in the crowd—a crowd
that was filled with people she and Jenna knew well. “Bull, you remember Jenna, don’t
you? From the library,” April said.