Devil's Angels Boxed Set: Bikers and Alpha Bad Boy Erotic Romance (55 page)

CHAPTER THREE

Vanessa climbed onto the bike behind Brody. For some reason, hugging him as he pulled onto the highway felt right. They almost made it into town before the rains came back. This time it wasn’t the light sprinkle that Vanessa had been driving in for hours. It was a solid downpour. “Only a couple of miles,” Brody yelled over his shoulder.

They pulled in under the canopy at Brody’s Auto Repair a few minutes later. by then Vanessa was totally soaked. Brody wore leathers, so except for his head and hands he was basically dry. “I was going to take you over to the motel, but I think you need to dry off and warm up first.” he said. “Why don’t you come up to my apartment for a few minutes and when the rain stops I can take you to the motel.”

Vanessa nodded her head and followed him to a door at the edge of the building. He unlocked it and said, “Apartment’s upstairs. I’ll get us something to eat. Momma always cleans it and stocks it when she knows I’m coming home. She thinks I don’t eat right out west, so there’s more than enough for both of us.” He gave Vanessa another of his smiles before going up the steps.

She followed him up into a small apartment that consisted of a kitchen, bedroom, and a small living room. “I’m sorry I don’t have a robe you can put on while I run those clothes through the dryer downstairs, but I do have some oversized work shirts from when I used to help dad downstairs.” He held up a gray shirt with a blue collar and the name “Brody Jr.” on a white patch on the pocket. It was longer than many of the dresses that Vanessa normally wore.

“You just go in the bathroom and get yourself a shower. Throw your clothes out the door into the bedroom. When I hear the bathroom door close, I’ll come in and get them and take them downstairs. Dad’s got a washer and dryer down there because mom won’t let him bring his work clothes home to wash them. I’ll run them through the dryer and they’ll be ready by the time we finish eating.”

Vanessa did as Brody had suggested. She threw her wet clothing out onto the floor of the bedroom and stepped into the shower. It felt warm and wet and wonderful. She wanted to just stay in there and luxuriate in the warmth, but she didn’t want to keep Brody waiting too long. The shirt was big enough that she didn’t bother to unbutton it, but slipped it on like a nightshirt.

As she pulled the shirt over her head, she caught the slight smell of man. Brody smelled like a good man, she thought. Maybe you couldn’t smell good or evil, but Tony and the manager at the diner both smelled… off in some way the first time she’d met them. It wasn’t until later that she realized how evil they were. Maybe that was the smell of evil. She lifted the front of the shirt to her nose and inhaled deeply. Yes, Brody smelled like a good man.

After making an attempt to clear her hair of tangles with the comb by the sink, Vanessa stepped back into the kitchen. Brody was at the stove heating something in a large pan. Something else that smelled very good, was warming in the microwave. “Momma trusts me to pan-fry potatoes,” he said. “But she doesn’t trust me doing anything to her barbequed pork but warm it in the microwave. Things will be ready in a minute. There’s beer, water, and pop in the refrigerator. Help yourself.”

Vanessa noted that there was a bottle of beer sitting at the table next to one of the place settings, and decided to copy Brody by opening a bottle and setting it next to her on the table. A few minutes later, a steaming plate of pan-fried potatoes and pork was sitting in front of her.

As they ate, Brody seemed to be watching her, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask why she was alone and apparently on the run a thousand miles from her home. He didn’t ask who she was running from. He did ask if she liked the pork and then, as he went to the refrigerator, asked if she wanted another bottle of beer. She held up her half-full bottle and he said, “OK,” and pulled out a bottle for himself.

As he sat back down, Vanessa looked at the two tattoos on Brody’s biceps. One was a Harley emblem with the words “Ride Free or Die” above it. Beneath it in elaborate script it said “Free Riders.”

The other tattoo was the Marine Corps eagle, globe and anchor with the words “Semper Fi” beneath it. Brody could see where she was looking and lifted his T shirt slightly to reveal to the complete emblem.

“Afghanistan,” he said rather quietly. He lifted the shirt higher to reveal four names on his arm above the eagle. “I came back,” he said. After a long silence, he added with a slightly more throaty voice, “They didn’t.” Then he sat quietly sipping at his beer. He still hadn’t asked anything, but somehow it was clear to Vanessa that he would be willing to listen.

She started with “It seemed like an easy way to pay off my college debts.” When Brody still made no comment, she began at the beginning and started talking. Suddenly everything poured out of her like vile black acid.... dancing... Duane... the courts... the fear... the sleazy manager, and slimy Tony.

She felt so much lighter..., freer..., cleaner..., to finally be able to tell someone the whole story. She finished with, “So here I am in Flat Springs, Arkansas, broke, exhausted, and trying to put my life back together.”

There were several minutes of silence while Brody looked at her and sipped slowly on his beer. “I guess that means that our town motel is above your price range?” he finally said.

Vanessa nodded slowly.

“You can stay here on the couch tonight. Or, if you really need a bed, I will take the couch. We can talk to dad in the morning. He might need a little bookkeeping help and would probably be willing to hire you for a while. I’ll be going back to Colorado in a couple days, so you can stay up here until you can get on your feet.”

Vanessa’s only answer was tears streaming down her face.

“I’m going to run downstairs and grab your jeans and top out of the dryer,” he said as he stood up, “And then we’ll get these dishes cleaned up.” As he walked to the door he added, “Afterwards, I’ll see if that old TV is still working. Even if it is, there’s not a lot of choice. In this weather I don’t think any of the Little Rock stations will come in clear.”

Brody returned a few moments later. He set her clothes on the couch in the living room area and went over to the sink. “I’ll wash, you dry,” he said. Vanessa picked up the towel that was hanging on the handle of the oven and stood next to him. For the next few minutes they stood side by side in silence except for the clatter of the dishes and the splash of the water.

Finally everything was cleaned up and Vanessa turned to hang the towel back in its place. She turned back just as Brody turned from the sink and suddenly they were standing face to face just inches apart. Vanessa reached up and put her arms around Brody’s neck, said “Thank you,” and kissed him.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was just supposed to be a peck on the cheek... a small token of appreciation. But her lips seemed to move on their own to his. Her face moved forward to press her mouth against his, as her body pushed itself tightly against him. Suddenly she was warm inside... warmer that July.

After much too short a time, Brody broke the kiss and said, “I don’t know that you want to do that. You’ve been through a lot today and aren’t yourself tonight.” He sighed. “And, unless you’re stupid enough to come into my shop and tell the boys who are hanging around that you want to join the Free Riders, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable, beautiful women.”

He called her beautiful. She clung even more tightly to him.

“And I’m not a saint,” he added with a slightly different smile. “If you don’t back up a little, my lower brain is going to start doing my thinking for me and we’ll both end up in bed for the night.”

He pulled himself away and turned to walk into the living room area. “There’s a basketball game on channel 4,” he said. “Before KARK went digital, I could always rely on pulling that channel in, but now, even with a new antenna and that fancy converter the government gave us, half the time it looks like the picture’s been run through a blender.”

He sat down on the couch across from the TV. Vanessa sat beside him. She wanted so much to snuggle up against him. She wanted to hold him and be held by him, but it was as if he was putting up a wall.

Was that wall to keep her out? Or was that wall to keep something else in? His face showed nothing. She thought she detected an overcast of sadness to his eyes, but maybe that was just the reflection of her own thoughts and emotions.

“Do you follow the Gophers?” he suddenly asked.

“What?” she answered in surprise.

“You’re from Minneapolis. Do you follow the Golden Gophers—the University of Minnesota basketball team.”

“I’m actually from Iowa,” she replied, not sure where the conversation was going.

“Oh, that’s right. So are you a Hawkeye or a Cyclone?”

“I really don’t follow basketball all that much,” she answered, now sure that he was talking sports to avoid any other topic. “Actually, I don’t follow sports all that much. I like to do active things, and don’t mind athletic games, but I’m not into watching others do sports. I like baseball, but primarily because it’s played in the summertime outdoors. Indoor baseball parks like the Twins used to have just didn’t seem right.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, both pretending to watch the game through the distorted picture. Finally Vanessa said in a soft voice, “Did I scare you off when I told you about how messed up my life has been?”

“Not exactly,” was all Brody answered. She waited for him to say more, but it was obvious that he was capable of very long periods of total silence.

Finally, Vanessa decided to once again try to break the ice for a real conversation. “‘Not exactly’ means ‘Yes, but not quite.’ What about me scares you? You’re pulling away from me like I was ringing a bell and chanting, ‘Leper... Leper... Leper..’”

He smiled, and almost laughed. “Oh, you are definitely not a leper,” he said as he patted her on her leg just above the knee. “And that is definitely not the hooded robe that a leper used to hide his body.”

“But you are afraid,” she asked. “Something about me makes you afraid, doesn’t it?”

“Not exactly,” he replied in what had become his normal, flat voice.

Anger flared in Vanessa and she turned to say something heated, but then she saw that his eyes were not flat. They had a twinkle in them that had not been there before. He was toying with her, but at the same time he was placing more bricks in that wall he was building to keep them apart.

“Want another beer?” he asked. “I figure there is about a beer’s worth of game left if you sip it slowly.”

“I’ll get it,” Vanessa volunteered as she stood and walked into the kitchen. As she put the empties on the counter and opened the refrigerator for two more, she looked back at Brody. Something was not right. She wasn’t exactly throwing herself at him—she would have if she thought that would make a difference—but he wasn’t responding at all. She had been forced to push men away before who were lusting after her body, but this was the first time that she was trying to encourage a man and he was backing away.

A thought entered her mind and she scrunched up her face for a moment.
Gay? No way!
Dancers and waitresses have the best gaydar in the world. You have to have a different approach for a gay man—or woman—to keep the tips flowing. Dancers and waitresses know. Vanessa knew. Brody wasn’t gay. There was something else going on under that rough, biker exterior that was causing him to push her away.

Well
, she thought to herself,
maybe some things just aren’t meant to be
. Then she smiled and had to stop herself from saying out loud:
But that doesn’t mean that a girl can’t try.

She brought the beers back to the couch and sat down before handing one over to Brody. She had tried to sit closer to him but somehow, as she sat down, he had scooted over slightly so that there was still a slight space between them.

They sat silently sipping their beers for a long while before Brody suddenly said, “Must have stopped raining between here and Little Rock.”

Vanessa had no idea where that comment had come from until he pointed at the TV. The picture was now crystal clear. She could see that the score was 94 to 83, but she had no idea who was winning because she didn’t even know who was playing.

She shook her head and looked again at the score. That didn’t seem possible. The game was in the first half when she had sat down. Had she fallen asleep? Had they really sat there in silence for that long? Had she gone so deeply into her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the passage of time? Surely that much time had not passed. But there was a little clock in the corner of the screen, and it had only three minutes on it. Her beer was also empty. So was Brody’s.

“Let me get that empty,” she said and leaned across him to take the bottle from his right hand. She could feel him move away from her as her body brushed against him. “Is there someone else who you’re keeping yourself for?” she asked.

She almost didn’t expect him to answer, or if he did to say, “Not exactly.” Instead he sighed slightly and said, “No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” she asked.

A horn from the TV announced that the game was over. Brody turned it off and said, “How about a piece of Momma’s pie before you bed down for the night?”

“That wasn’t an answer,” she said, trying to sound stern, or at least frustrated. She didn’t have to fake the frustrated.

“Momma’s pie is the answer to everything,” he replied. The twinkle was back in his eyes. He lifted a plastic pie-saver that was sitting on the counter, revealing a homemade apple pie. “She always pre-cuts it,” he said. “Always six pieces in hopes that I’ll stay at least six days.”

He set a piece of pie in front of Vanessa. “Do you?” she asked.

“Do I what?”

“Stay six days.”

“Almost always,” he answered. “I owe it to Momma.”

“Is Momma why you’re avoiding me?” Vanessa asked.

“Not exactly,” he replied. Then he blew out a heavy breath and said, “No, exactly! Momma is very special to me and she taught me not to hurt people who love me and depend on me. If someone loves you, you’re supposed to love them back, not hurt them or abandon them or take advantage of them. Even if that love seems too sudden and impossible to be real, you don’t take advantage of them. You don’t hurt them.”

“Sounds like you’ve been hurt a lot in your past,” she said. She was hoping that he would say more, but instead he answered, “Not exactly,” and the twinkle was gone from his eye.

She was wishing that she had asked instead about the sudden and impossible love that Brody had referred to. What did that mean? Who was he referring to? Was it her? Was it possible that, in not saying it, Brody was telling her that he loved her more truthfully than any man had before? Was it love that was keeping them apart when she so desperately wanted to be held tightly in Brody’s arms?

She was trying to think of a way to ask when Brody stood and cleared the dishes from the table. He then turned and asked Vanessa, “Do you want the couch or the bed?”

She stood up and answered, “I want you.” She threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself against him. This time she didn’t intend it to be a peck on the cheek. She intended her mouth to crush against his.

He pulled back away from her and started to say something, but she put her finger against his lips. “I want it.” she moaned into his chest. “I need it,” she said desperately as she clung to him. “I want and need to be with a good man for once in my life.”

“I’m not as good as you think I am,” Brody said quietly. “And I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to feel worse in the morning.”

Vanessa answered almost with a laugh, “I just ran away from a psycho ex-boyfriend and a sleazy pimp who wanted to set me up as a whore above his strip club. I don’t think it would be possible to feel worse than I did before you came into my life.”

Brody’s response was to stand silently, looking into her eyes, for several long moments. There was an argument going on in his head; Vanessa could see on his face that he was being pulled in two directions. Then the tension left his face. He didn’t exactly smile, but it something pleasant reflected from his face and especially from his eyes. Brody’s eyes were amazing. Though his face was almost expressionless, his eyes were smiling.