Chayton's Tempest (9 page)

Sparky leaned forward on the bar, excitement filling his

green eyes. “Lovely. When we go out for dinner, I’ll tell you all

about it.”

Placing a Maraschino cherry on the top for garnish,

Tempest grinned. “Sounds like a plan. And here is your

Tsunami.” She took the money and walked off to help another

customer.

After that customer was content with drink in hand, she

moved back down to where Maverick and Sparky were. “Just

give me a call, Sparky, and we’ll do lunch, or breakfast.”

“Sounds like a plan, babe,” he said as he took a swig of

his drink.

Tempest sent Sparky a wink and moved off again.

Maverick stayed at the bar until closing. He didn’t try to talk to

her again, just watched her with those black pearls he had for

eyes.

“We’re closing up now; you have to leave,” Tempest

said as she wiped down the bar.

 
“I need to talk to you,” Maverick said, crossing those

thick arms and bringing her attention to all his rippling

pectorals.

“We have nothing to say to one another,” she snapped.

Tempest was tired; it had been a long night and her feet hurt.

“I didn’t know.” Maverick dropped his arms and placed

his hands on his thighs.

Those three words stopped her dead. A headache

swarmed in on her as the tension that she’d been holding in her

body threatened to burst. “You left the day you found out; why

come back?”

Maverick looked at the siren standing across from him.

Her arms were crossed defensively as she glared untrustingly

at him. “I was in shock about it. I left to go home and find

out—”

“Find out if I were lying to you or not?” Tempest shook

her head in disgust. “I don’t even know why I believed you

would come for me—you are so concerned about yourself.”

She slapped the rag down on the counter and said, “Go. We are

closed.”

As two of her bouncers approached, Maverick

reluctantly stood. “I’ll be back. I deserve a chance to explain.”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” she snarled and

pointed at the door. “Don’t mistake my being polite to you as a

customer for an opening to talk about this.”

Jaw clenching, Maverick gave her a brisk nod and spun

on his heels to walk out of the establishment, noticing how the

men locked the door behind him. Sitting on his bike, he drove

away as one by one the lights in B’s Quarry were extinguished.

After the place was empty, Tempest sat in her office.

Dakota was in the cellar doing some inventory, so for all intents

and purposes she was alone. She was at war with herself.

One the one hand, she was furious for the events that

had transpired in the past. On the other, if he
were
telling the

truth and he hadn’t known, then she couldn’t imagine not

having known her child. “What am I supposed to do?” she

asked the confines of her office.

Then there was the way her body reacted to his. It was

just like when she’d been a kid with a crush and he’d looked at

her, making her go all quivery. Now it was just amplified

exponentially. “I don’t need to be attracted to the father of my

child,” Tempest admonished herself.

Rushing through her work, she left the office in time to

see her son walk up from the cellar. “All done down there,

Dak
?” she questioned.

“Sure am, Mama. Are you sure you aren’t going to need

me this weekend?”

“I’m sure. Go out on your date, have some fun. I’ll be

fine.” Tempest hugged her son. “But thanks for being so

thoughtful.”

“I’m taking her up to
Sandia
.” Dakota’s obsidian eyes

sparkled at that admission.

“Taking the Tram?” Tempest asked as they headed for

the backdoor. The
Sandia
Mountains
bordered Albuquerque

and were a huge attraction for visitors and locals to visit.

“Nope, I was actually hoping I could use your vehicle.

We are going to have a picnic.”

Locking the door behind her, Tempest felt the sting of

tears in her eyes. She’d missed all of that. Dating, the romance,

everything that came with a wonderful relationship. “Of course

you can. I have no problem using your car…as long as it is full

on gas; and mine is when you return it.”

“Deal.”

“Do I need to make anything for you?’ she asked as they

walked to where they’d parked.

“Well, I know that Shelia loves your triple chocolate

cake,” he hedged.

“I think you are one spoiled kid. But I will make it for

you tomorrow.” She climbed in her vehicle and started it. “I’ll

see you at home.”

 
“Okay, I’m right behind you.”

As they drove away, neither of them noticed the man

who had observed and overheard their entire conversation.

Maverick clenched a fist; he wanted so badly to be a part of that

circle.

“Damn you guys for keeping me unaware of my child!”

he hissed as he slid back through the dark to where he’d

parked his bike. Maverick drove back to his hotel, feeling alone

for the first time in his life and not being okay with it.

_

Tempest was up at six the next morning. Three hours of

sleep was catching up with her, though. Knowing she wouldn’t

get back to sleep anytime soon, she swung her legs out of bed

and padded into the bathroom.

A bit more awake, a fully dressed, Tempest walked

through the house and out the back door to the yard. She

unrolled a yoga mat and sat down upon it in the lotus position.

For thirty minutes, she maintained that hold while she

mediated.

That done, she stretched, put the mat away, and walked

out the gate of her house. Striding down the stone path,

Tempest was almost to the sidewalk when she saw him.

James “Maverick”
Chayton
Lonetree
sat on his

motorcycle in her driveway. He was leaning nonchalantly

against the gleaming bike; rock-solid arms crossed his marbled

chest. His clothes were black, all of them: shirt, pants, and

boots.

Briefly, they just stared at each other, Tempest

unconsciously touching her hair that was gathered up off her

neck in a slapdash way. She recovered quickly. “What are you

doing here? How did you find out where I lived?” Her

questions were delivered in a low hiss.

 
“I told you we needed to talk,” he responded in a
velvetsmooth

voice that made her feel as if he were running his

hands over her body.

“I have nothing to say to you. And I don’t want to hear

what you have to say.” Tempest began to back up toward her

gate.

Maverick reached out one hand toward her. “No, please,

wait. I didn’t know.” He licked his lips and glanced up at the

sky. “I went home to confront mine and your parents about it.”

Really?
“And?” She crossed her arms, but stopped

moving backwards.

“And your mother—”

“She is
not
my mother. My mother was Bertha,”

Tempest interjected furiously.

Both hands went up in a placating gesture. “Okay. I

went to your old home and was told off by the woman of the

house.” Nothing so much as a flicker crossed her face so he

continued. “They knew. My parents knew and refused to tell

me.”

“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know.
I

was the thirteen year old who had to face your parents and tell

them because you wouldn’t talk to me. In fact, you down right

avoided me.” Her eyes grew unyielding. “And while this trip

down memory lane has been
tons
of fun, I have things to do.”

“Tempest, wait.” Maverick pushed away from his bike

and moved toward her. He wasn’t blind to the appreciative

way her eyes roamed over his physique, but now was

definitely not the time to address that. There was something

way
more important to tackle.

She exhaled loudly and bluntly asked, “What do you

want from me, James?”

A slight crinkle appeared at the corner of one side of his

mouth. “I want a chance to make amends. But more than that, I

want a chance to know my son. I missed everything: first step,

first word, first day of school, and his birth. I missed everything

seeing him grow into the man he is today.” He held up a hand

at the narrowing of her eyes. “I know you know that, Tempest,

just hear me out.”

Maverick stopped before her, towering over her. “I

didn’t have a choice. It was taken away from me. Part of that
is

my fault because I did avoid you.
Not
because I thought you

were pregnant, but because I was embarrassed about how I had

treated you. I was ashamed for making your first time so

unpleasant. I know you didn’t get any pleasure out of it and I

was mortified.”

He grabbed her arm and both of them felt the electricity

flowing between them. “I want to get to know my son.”

Pulling away from the touch that made her

uncomfortable for more than one reason, she responded, “I

have nothing to do with that. If you want to know him better,

it’s between the two of you. Not me.” Tempest turned and

retreated behind the protection of her gate.

“I’m not giving up, Tempest. Not on you, either!” he

hollered over the fence to her.

“Don’t make me call the cops on you; please, leave.” She

walked, shaking, back to the door of her home and slipped

inside. Once secure in her sanctuary, she covered her face with

her hands and began to cry. Mindless of the young man

positioned at the front door, she headed for her room.

Maverick was torn between going after her and letting it

go.
Not many can get away with calling me James.
And yet he’d

been fine with her calling him that. When his phone rang, he

walked back to his bike and answered it. Just as suddenly as

he’d answered it, he hung up, for he had no desire to speak to

his parents.

Climbing on his motorcycle, Maverick reached in his

saddlebags and pulled out some paper and a pen. He wrote

down the name, address, and room number of his hotel before

striding up to the front and wedging the paper in the door.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he whispered before

spinning around and heading for his bike.

Securing his helmet, Maverick had no idea how to

proceed. He would just have to hope something he’d told her

this morning would sink in and she would encourage

her…no…
their
son to come talk to him. And he would be back

at the bar again. He wasn’t about to retreat.

Seven