Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (46 page)

Mica hopped up and wrapped herself up in his arms, whispering in his ear, “Mason, oh, I’ve missed you.”

He held her close for a minute, and then moved her back so he could see her face. “I’ve missed you too, babe. How the hell are ya?”

“Oh, you know, same ol’, same ol’.” She grinned.

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and pulled her close for another long hug. They moved apart as Molly and Essa came and hugged him around the waist, Molly kissing him softly on the cheek. He pulled Molly in close to his side, slinging his arm around her shoulders. Kissing the side of her head, he asked, “How’s Molls today?”

She leaned her head against him, relaxing against his side. “I’m better now, Mason. It’s good to see you again.”

He grinned at them. “So why is there a picture of Slate on Essa’s phone?”

Mica laughed hard. “He’s sweet on Essa. It’s the cutest thing.”

“Michaela Trenton Scott, you did not just tell Mason that!” Essa yelled.

Mason laughed. “Not really any business of mine, Essa. Pretty sure you are both adults, of a sort,” he sobered, “but if he hurts you, he
will
fucking answer to me.”

Mason was content to sit on the patio for a while. He tucked his huge frame into a rocking chair, listening to Mica and the girls talk about what they’d been doing since he went home a few weeks ago. Molly wasn’t sick from the pregnancy any more, which was good. She was feeling better, and that helped her mood.

Essa was still competing, had won a couple of events, and she really liked Slate. Mason noted Mica had soaked up some sun; she was golden brown, and her dark hair had natural reddish highlights in it now. He could see she had been enjoying spending time with her family. Everyone was happy, making up for lost time.

He was patient as he sat listening to the things said
between
the words. Mica was working some, but the set-up wasn’t great, and she missed the face-to-face interaction with her clients. She still had a rental car, but it wasn’t her Nissan. She missed
her
stuff—her house, her things. The view out her window here was nice, but it wasn’t the view from the bay window of her home. The more she talked, the better he felt about his plan.

He checked the time and thought he’d prime things a little, so he started talking about people, gently reminding her of all the friends she had in Chicago. “Tug says hi, babe. He was sick a couple weeks ago, and whined that he didn’t have any soup.”

She made a face. “Oh, no, is he okay now?”

“Yeah, he’s good,” a pause, “and oh, yeah—Digger wanted me to tell you he had a date.”

Sitting up straight, she took a breath. “How did it go? Did he have a good time?”

Mason grinned. “I guess. It seemed okay; he didn’t really say.”

She made a frustrated noise. “I hope it went really well; he simply needs some confidence. He’s such a good guy. I miss him and Tug.”

He heard a truck coming down the drive, finally. While he was keeping his face stoic, inside he was smiling, because this was pretty perfect timing. All three of the girls perked up their heads, listening. Molly said, “We don’t have any deliveries today; what is that semi doing here?”

They got up to go see, and Mason cleared his throat. “I have a delivery; I bet that’s mine,” he told them, and he walked back through the house, listening to their dozens of questions without responding.

The hands had ramps set-up to unload the truck already, so Mason stopped for a minute and looked at the cargo with pride, folding his arms across his chest. He’d found a beautiful Road King Classic from a patch brother down here that he had to have—could not fucking resist. It was a striking dark blue and black bike in perfect condition, fucking leather and chrome.

He was planning on riding it home, taking a few easy days for the trip between Longview and Chicago. Sitting alongside his new bike on the truck bed was an eye-catching little Sportster 883 Iron XL, black and sleek, with plenty of shiny chrome. It was the right kind of bike for a beginner, and the perfect size for a woman. Tug assured him she wanted to learn how to ride, so now he just had to talk Mica into riding it home for him.

Mica looked at Mason and grinned; the bikes were so pretty, and she couldn’t wait to ride with him on the back of that black and blue one. The little one was gorgeous too, and she wondered what he was doing with two bikes.

“Did you buy these, Mason? Are you shipping them home?” She grinned. “They are both so beautiful.”

He reached out and tapped her shoulder with his fist, and she rocked herself sideways like he’d really slugged her; it was one of their many familiar jokes with each other. Stepping towards the bikes, which were now offloaded and parked in the driveway, he said over his shoulder, “I’m riding the Road King home.”

Dragging his hands up the seat, he stroked the black leather and rubbed his fingers across the emblem on the side of the gas tank. He turned and grinned at her. “I think it’s time for a road trip.”

She shouted with laughter. “You are fondling the bike, Mason. Get a room.”

Essa clapped her hands. “Can I have a ride?”

Mason threw his head back and chuckled. “Sure, little girl, grab the small helmet and jacket from the backseat of my car.”

Mica frowned; he was giving Essa a ride on his new bike before her? That didn’t feel right. Molly walked up and was touching the smaller bike, twisting the throttle and pretending to make motor noises. That pissed her off a little bit, and Mica frowned harder. What was wrong with her?

Essa came back with the helmet on her head and started shrugging into the leather jacket, when Mason stopped her. “Hold on, Essa. Mica rides first, okay?” With that, the bands of anxiety that had been wrapping tightly around her chest eased, and Mica took a deep breath, finally walking towards Mason and the bike.

Smiling brightly at her cousin, Essa handed her the jacket and then the helmet. Mason was already straddling the bike, his hand out waiting for her to reach for him.

She smiled, nodding her head. She laid her hand trustingly in his, stepping up on the peg and swinging her leg over the seat. “Ready?” came the usual question over his shoulder as he pulled his beanie over his hair.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back, nodding and saying, “Ready, Mason.”

“Hold on, babe,” was his response. “Here we go.”

He eased the bike down the gravel driveway, slowing and putting his feet down as they bumped carefully across the cattle guard at the end. Turning onto the country road, he held the speed at a moderate rate as they leaned and wove around the sharp corners.

She arched into Mason, resting her nose against his back. She kept her eyes peering just over his shoulder so she could see where they were going.
Watching the shadows flash across the oil road in front of them, she started to relax. The trees were beginning to put buds and leaves on, and with the spring angle of the sun, all of the shadows were fuzzy and undefined.

There was a straight stretch of road, and he opened the throttle a little, making her grin. On impulse, she lightly bit into his back. She knew he couldn’t hear her growl as she tugged at him with her teeth, but she was giggling at herself over the playfulness she felt.

He jerked and turned his head, feigning a frown, but she could see the amusement in his eyes. It was in the way his jaw relaxed, and the lines of tension eased from his face.

It had been a long time since she’d seen that easy look on him. It made her feel guilty that she was the reason he had so often been sad or angry over the past few months. He had taken on so much for her, taken responsibility for things that should have never touched him. She could never repay him for what he had done for her, for the peace he gave her when he took away her worst fear.

Laying her head against his spine again, she tightened her arms around him. Pulling her hands forward with one of his, he tugged her tighter to his butt and thighs and then held her hand against his stomach.

Smiling softly, she pulled his hand around and put it on her thigh. She felt the warmth and strength of his grip as he wrapped it around her leg. Maybe Mason was her destiny. They’d circled around each other for years, coming together that one time last fall spectacularly. She loved him, but was it that kind of love?

His hand slid down her leg to her calf, and then back up, tracing her form absently it seemed. He patted her thigh and then put his hand back on the handlebars. He was leaning forward slightly in preparation for another curvy portion of the road.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the wind teasing her hair under the helmet, caressing her face. Her thoughts returned to two of them, but it didn’t seem right to be thinking about Mason that way. They were good friends, and if there was sexual tension sometimes, he’d made it clear he wanted a friendship; that was more important to him than almost anything.

His patted her hands again, and her eyes opened as they slowed. Sitting up and looking around, she saw they’d come to a highway and he was turning left, headed east on the road. She grinned and leaned into him again, resting against his strong back.

She wondered what Daniel was doing at this moment. Keeping up with him was fairly easy, since the Mallets had gotten into the AHL championship chase. Being the team captain, owner, and an important player, he was in a lot of articles. She knew he hadn’t started a new relationship and was glad. That would have hurt.

Did that mean she still had feelings for him? She nodded, answering her own question. Of course she did; love wasn’t something that was easy to displace once it had its roots in you. Daniel had been there to support her as much as she’d let him. She knew it wasn’t fair leaving like she did, but she had reasons. If he couldn’t get past everything, that was okay; she’d done it herself. It’s not like she needed the problems a relationship brings.

She kinda liked being responsible for only her own happiness, her own issues—shoot, her own laundry. If there were socks on the floor, they were hers. If she wanted to go out and buy a gas grill, there was no one to consult about the purchase. Of course, that meant there was no one there to celebrate with, either, no one to share with at the end of a day, good or bad.

Sitting up again as Mason slowed the bike, she saw they were turning onto another oil road. She knew there was a pretty lake up ahead, so when she saw the turnout coming up, she tapped his shoulder and pointed. Nodding, he pulled the bike over and parked, silence returning in a rush as the roar of the motor and pipes faded away.

Mica stepped off the bike, watching Mason touch it reverently. He was stroking the handlebars and tank as he put down the kickstand, carefully testing the stability before swinging his leg off. Waiting until he was done admiring the bike, she knew she had a huge grin on her face as he turned around. Grabbing his hands, she lifted up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You’re cold, Mason,” she scolded as her lips touched his chilled face. He wrapped his arms around her like he had so many times before as she sighed. “Thank you, I needed this so much, Mason.”

He nodded, his head tight against hers. “Me too, babe.”

Lifting his head, he looked at the lake. “It’s pretty here,” he commented, turning towards the surrounding woods, “lots of trees.”

She laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty, but it’s not home. Not any longer.”

He looked down at her, asking anxiously, “You ready to come home, babe? You are missed so much. Come home.”

Keeping that wide grin on her face, she teased, “Who misses me the most?” Biting her bottom lip, she shoved his arm with her fist.

He swayed with her in his arms, the amusement fading slowly from his face. “I want to say me, but I think there’s a guy who might edge me out of the running.”

“Don’t. Please don’t, Mason,” she said angrily. “Don’t throw him at me like that. He didn’t want me anymore. I hurt him too badly, so just don’t.”

“Then tell me I’m wrong about your feelings for him, babe. Tell me you don’t love him.” He shook his head. “The two of you are meant to be together; I believe that.” Tightening his arms, he put a palm against the back of her head and tucked her close under his chin. “If I didn’t, I’d never let you go, but you need to see where this takes you.”

They stood like that for a long time, not speaking, not moving. Mason finally shifted his feet a little and cleared his throat. Mica grinned; that was one of the only ways to tell he was nervous, and he only did it before he talked about something that worried him. “So, Tug said you wanted to learn how to ride.”

Oh, no—now she thought she knew what the second bike was for. Blowing out her breath, she answered cautiously, “Yeah, he is going to teach me when the weather is good.”

Shifting slightly again, Mason waited a beat and then pointed out, “The weather is good now, babe.”

She grinned against his chest, knowing he couldn’t see her. “Yeah, the weather is good.”

Leaning back, Mason looked down at her face. “You already figured it out, didn’t you?”

Laughing out loud at the disappointed look on his face, she repeated, “Yeah, the weather is good.”

He grinned back at her. “I want to be the one to teach you, babe. Do you mind much if it’s me?”