Danielle
I STARED DOWN at my dashboard
console and willed the check engine light to stop the infernal red glow. How I
got where I was, I had no freaking clue, which meant I had no freaking clue how
to find the freeway entrance to get home. “You are an idiot, Dani,” I whispered
out loud.
As if on a mission from the
devil, my nineteen ninety-nine Honda shuddered, then back-fired, slowing to a
crawl as I inched forward down a non-descript side street. Why Portland didn’t
have better signage was beyond me.
I jumped as my cell phone pealed
in the silence of the car. Without looking at the screen, because really, I was
trying not to end up dead in some obscure place I’d never been before, I
flipped it open. “Hello,” I whispered.
“Why are we whispering?” Kim
whispered back. My best friend of more than ten years giggled in the
background.
I cleared my throat and took a
deep breath. “I’m kind of lost and my stupid car won’t go over nineteen miles
an hour.”
“So, no different than any other
day,” she quipped. “How did the date go?”
“Sucked.”
“How bad?” she asked.
“Getting my eyeballs plucked out
by crows while my fingernails were ripped off one-by-one would have been much
more enjoyable kind of bad.”
“Ew, sorry honey.” Kim still
managed to giggle again. “Did you have dinner?”
“No. I endured one drink and an
appetizer and then faked a phone call. Seriously, Kimmie, the guy was a
douche.”
“So, online dating’s not for
you.”
“Dating, period is not for
me.”
Kim chuckled. “Where are you?”
“I have no freaking clue,” I
admitted. “Somewhere in Arbor Lodge I think.”
“Holy crap, girl, you don’t want
to be lost there when it’s almost dark.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious.”
I leaned forward to get a better view out of the windshield. “It’s totally
deserted and I can’t find a street sign to save my life.”
“What’s around you?”
“Nothing.” I squinted trying to
make out the light in front of me. The area was heavily commercial, so I wasn’t
sure what business would be open past eight on a Wednesday night. “I think I
see something. Crap. My contacts are killing me.”
“Pull over and take them out,
silly. You have your glasses, right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to stop,
Kimmie… what if I can’t get started again.”
“What if you can’t see what
you’re about to hit?”
“Stop being so logical.”
Kim sighed. “Please, Dani, be
safe. Pull over, put on your glasses, and call your brother.”
“Fine. I’m pulling over. Hold
please.” Guiding my car to the curb, I put it in park. “Okay. I’m gonna hang up
and call Elliot.”
“Good. Call me when—”
The phone went dead.
“Crap.” I took a second to pull
out my contacts and slide on my glasses before I glanced in my side mirror and
put the car in drive again. “Okay, old lady, please get me somewhere I can find
a phone.” I inched out into the street again and rolled about three hundred
feet before my car let out a sputter and a hiss and the engine died. “Okay.
Okay. It’s okay,” I chanted. “We’ve been here before, girl. You can do it.” I
cranked the engine and although it turned over, I couldn’t get it to fully
engage. I tried again, got it started, but had barely pulled further to the
side of the road when it died again. “No, no, no, no!” I cranked the engine
again, but still no luck, so I put it in park again.
Grabbing my purse off the floor,
I rummaged around for my phone charger, finding it and plugging it into the
lighter, hoping for enough juice to call my brother. I pushed every button on
my Nokia in an effort to power it up again, but it had been losing its charge
quicker and quicker over the past few weeks and it was now officially dead.
“Damn it!”
I dropped my head to the steering
wheel and took a minute to feel sorry for myself as I imagined the six-o’clock
news headline, “Young woman murdered after car breaks down in sketchy area
of Portland. It’s surprising since she comes from law-enforcement royalty.
Another statistic? It certainly looks that way.”
I’m not entirely sure how long I
sat in my dead car and imagined my murder and death before a knock at my window
had me squeaking in fright. I glanced out to see an extraordinarily gorgeous
man leaning down with a sexy smile on his face. Tall with dark hair and a face
that could only be described as beautiful, even with a day’s stubble, he looked
quite a bit like Kevin Zegers, blue eyes and all. He wore a pair of faded jeans
that looked like they were made for him, a white thermal, tight-fitting shirt
that showcased his muscular chest a bit too well, causing my heart to race and
my breathing to catch. A black leather jacket that cemented his sexy as hell
look completed the ensemble.
I cranked my window part of the
way down… he couldn’t kill me if he could only get his fingers inside, right?
“You lost, darlin’?”
His voice washed over me and I
squirmed in my seat as I tried not to sigh at the slight southern twang. “Um,
yeah. A little.”
“Not a great part of town for a
pretty girl to get lost in.” He straightened, crossing his arms. “You got
someone comin’ for you?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook
my head. “Both my car and my phone are dead. So, that would be a big fat no.”
“Alright. Why don’t you come with
me?”
“No, that’s okay.”
He smiled again. “Sweetheart, my
club’s yard is right down the block. I’ll get some of my brothers to push your
car into the lot where it’ll be safe and we can fix it for you tomorrow. In the
meantime, you can get out of the cold and either make a phone call or I’ll take
you home.”
I bit my lip and pondered my
options. The definite probability of dying of starvation and exposure before
morning, or the potential of being murdered by the best looking man I’d ever
seen were pretty much all I could come up with.
“No one will hurt you, if that’s
what concerns you,” he promised.
“I wish that made me feel
better,” I admitted. “I mean, I wonder how many women have gone off with some
tall, gorgeous man because he said he wouldn’t hurt them, only to be murdered?
Super murdered. We’d never know, right? ’Cause they’re dead.”
His mouth quivered for a second
before he burst out in laughter. “You’ve got a point, darlin’, but if you’re
with me, no one’ll touch you.”
“Including you?”
He sobered, but his eyes were
still alit with humor. “If that’s what you want.”
I rolled the window back up and
gathered my purse and keys. I had a feeling I’d regret this sudden trust I was
feeling toward him, but I didn’t really have much of a choice other than to let
him help me, so I unlocked my door and climbed out of the car.
He held it for me and slammed it
closed once I was on the sidewalk. I’d locked it before he closed it, not that
it mattered… no one would steal a piece of crap car like mine and I kept
nothing of value in it.
The wind had picked up since I
left the restaurant, and I pulled my coat further around me as we walked down
the street. “I’m Danielle, by the way. Um, Dani, actually.”
“Booker.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Booker.”
“Just Booker.”
“You mentioned your club’s yard.”
I frowned. “What kind of yard?”
“This location’s our wreck ’n tow
yard. Got other businesses in other locations,” he said vaguely. “Anything with
an engine, we can tow, fix or build.”
I nodded. “And you said ‘club.’
I’m assuming it’s not a sewing club.”
Booker smiled. “Motorcycle club.”
I stopped. It took him a minute
to realize I was no longer beside him, which gave me a partial view of the back
of his jacket. Dogs of something. Dogs of Wonder? No, that wouldn’t be right… a
badass motorcycle guy wouldn’t have Dogs of Wonder on the back of his jacket.
Well, crap!
He walked back toward me. “You
okay?”
“Motorcycle club?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Like Hell’s Angels?”
Booker smirked. “In theory.”
I glanced up at him. “I should
really go.”
“Go where, darlin’? There’s
nothing around here for over a mile in any direction.”
“Clarify something for me. Are
you a club because you have really nice bikes and like to hang out and drink
beer on occasion, or are you like outlaws or something?”
“Since that’s club business, it’s
none of yours.”
“Right.” I couldn’t seem to stop
swallowing convulsively. “Just point me in the direction of the closest place I
can make a phone call and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“About twenty-five yards in front
of you.”
“You don’t understand,” I
whispered. “I can’t go in there.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Maybe because my dad’s the
freakin’ chief of police,” I snapped, before realizing I’d just spouted off
something that could get me killed or kidnapped in a heartbeat, depending on
whose hands that information was in.
“You’re shittin’ me.”
I shook my head. “I wish I was.”
“Well, fuck me.”
“No thank you,” I quipped.
Retorts were my specialty, especially when I was nervous.
He cocked his head. “You wouldn’t
be disappointed, babe.”
I pressed my lips into a thin
line, willing my mouth to stay shut.
Booker chuckled. “The shop’s
clean, sweetheart. Totally legit, although, probably better I take you home
than you have your daddy pick you up.”
“It would be my brother,
actually… or Kimmie. Kim’s my best friend. Not that you care who my best friend
is.” I took a deep breath, rambling was not a good option right now.
He smiled again. God, he had a
nice smile. Of course, it was the panty-dropping kind, but for now, I wouldn’t
react…my undies must stay firmly in place. “There’s only six of us here right
now, so we’ll get your car into the lot, get your info, and I’ll take you
home.”
“I should call my brother.”
“Then we’ll get your car into the
lot and you can call your brother.”
I nodded and let him lead me
through a large parking lot surrounded by eight-foot high fencing complete with
barbed-wire on the top. I followed him into the warmth of a sparse but clean
waiting area. It looked like the waiting room in my local oil change place,
which for whatever reason surprised me. I’m not sure what I was expecting.
Maybe centerfolds from Playboy circa 1984 plastered on the walls?
“Phone’s on the counter,” Booker
said. “Dial nine for an outside line.”
I nodded and picked up the phone,
dialing as he pulled open a door and yelled, “Mack! Need you in the front.”
“Hello?” Kim answered, sounding
confused.
“Kimmie, hey it’s me.”
“Ohmigod, Dani!” Kimmie
exclaimed. I could hear the sounds of the restaurant she worked at in the
background. “I was worried sick. I take it your cell phone died again?”
“Yeah.” I glanced to my right and
could see Booker talking with someone across the room out of earshot. “It’s
officially dead, dead.”
“Where are you calling me from?”
she asked.
“Um, some wrecking place I
managed to break down in front of.”
“Of course you did,” Kimmie said
with a chuckle. “Did you call Ell?”
“Um, I can’t.”
“How come?”
“The shop is owned by a
motorcycle club,” I whispered, and glanced at the door again to make sure
Booker wasn’t listening.
“So?” she whispered back.
“Hello, I’ve seen that Sam crow
show… they’re not entirely above board.”
Kim burst out laughing, the
tell-tale snort indicating she was unable to control her mirth.
“Kimmie,” I hiss.
“Ohmigod, Dani, you are precious.
Truly,” she said, and laughed again.
“Oh, shut up,” I snapped. “You
know if I call Elliot, he’ll get all—”
“Dani? Keys, babe,” Booker
demanded.
I jumped a little because I
hadn’t seen him walk back over to me. “Um, hold on a sec,” I said to Kim, and
rummaged in my purse for my keys. Winding the car key from the rest of my keys,
I handed it to him and he nodded then left me again. “Okay, I’m back.”
“Who was that?” Kim asked.
“One of the men who works here.”
“Um, he knew your name and he
called you babe. I’m thinking you’re being purposely obtuse.”
“His name’s Booker,” I said.
“He sounds delicious.”
“Meh,” I lied.
“Call Elliot, Dani. Or I can come
get you when I get off in an hour.”
“No,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll
call Ell.”
“Good. Borrow his phone and call
me when you get home, okay? I’ve gotta grab my orders.”
“I will.” I was midway through
dialing my brother when Booker returned, so I hung up and forced a smile.
“You call your friend or brother
or whoever?” he asked.
“Kim. Yes. She’s still at work. I
was just about to call my brother.”
“Why don’t you do that and then
you can give me some information while we wait for him.”
I nodded and picked up the phone
again. I got his voicemail. “Hey Ell, it’s me. I broke down in Portland and was
wondering if you could come get me. I’m at… ,” I glanced up at Booker for
assistance, and he handed me a card. I rattled off the address and phone number
of Big Ernie’s Wreck ’n Tow, and then hung up again. “Voicemail.”
“Picked up on that, babe,” he
said.
My cheeks heated. “Right.”
Booker stepped behind the counter
and handed me a piece of paper with Big Ernie’s logo on it. “Write down your
address and phone number and I’ll call you when we know what’s wrong with your
car.”
“Are you planning to wreck it?”
He smiled and shook his head.
“We’ll tow it over to the auto repair shop and fix it there.”
“One of the other businesses, I
presume?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded. “I won’t be able to
answer, but you can leave a message and I’ll call you with a good number.”
He nodded and I scribbled down my
information. I couldn’t imagine what the repairs on my car would be, but as a
kindergarten teacher, I could pretty much guarantee they’d be out of my budget.
I jumped again when the phone rang… I was seriously wound up with nerves that
only a bottle of merlot was going to come close to calming.
“Big Ernie’s,” Booker said, and
then smiled at me. “Yeah, she’s here.”
He handed me the phone. “Hello?”
I said.
“How the hell did you end up at a
scrap yard in Arbor Lodge?” Elliot demanded.
I watched distractedly as Booker
and three other men walked outside and toward where I left my car.
“No clue,” I admitted. “I was in
the Pearl and thought I was going toward Vancouver, but I guess not.”
“For someone so smart, your sense
of direction is pathetic.”
“Yes, I’m well aware,” I
grumbled.
“Where’s your phone?” he asked.
“Dead.” I sighed. “Like as in
dead, dead.”
“I’m buying you a new one.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I
argued… for the umpteenth time.
“I know, sis, but your
stubbornness is starting to mess with my schedule,” he said.
I smiled. I loved my brother,
even when he was annoying. “Starting to?”
He chuckled. “I’m in the middle
of something; can you hang out for a while?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll grab a cab.”
“Which will cost you the same as
a phone,” he said.
“Point taken big brother. I
greatly thank you for your astute observation.”
“Grab a cab to the station and
I’ll drive you home from there.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll head home.”
“Dani,” he said with a sigh.
“Elliot,” I mimicked, and smiled.
“Seriously. It’s all good. I promised I’d call you and I called you. I might
work with five-year-olds, but I’m not one, so don’t worry.”
“Oh, you’re funny. Are you sure
you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Swing by later if
you want. I’m just going home. I have to be at work early tomorrow, so it’ll be
an early night for me.”
“How about I grab you a burner
and then I’ll order you a decent phone later.”
“Thanks, Ell. I’ll pay you back,”
I said.
“We can argue about that later. I
have to go.”
“Okay, ’bye.” I hung up and
slipped behind the desk in search for a phonebook.
“YOU
NEED SOMETHIN’ darlin’?”
I jumped (again) and turned to
find myself practically chin to navel with the very large man Booker had been
speaking to earlier. I looked up and grimaced. He was blond with deep blue eyes
and a full beard that begged to be touched. I refrained. Instead, I tried for
friendly. “Hi. I’m Dani.”
“Hi, Dani,” he said, and smiled.
“Hi,” I repeated, stepping back
for space, but only managing to run into the lip of the desk. I refused to wince
in his presence, but I did bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw
blood.
“You said that.”
“Um, yeah. I did. Great
observation skills.” Ohmigod, he is not a five-year-old. Get it
together, Dani. “Um, sorry if I wasn’t supposed to be back here, I was
looking for a phonebook.”
“You’re looking for a phonebook,”
he said, and stepped closer to me.
I mean, really. Where the hell
was I going to go? He’d just boxed me into a corner. I took a deep breath.
“Yes. A phonebook. Do you have one? I need to call a cab.”
“You need to call a cab.”
I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Yes, I need to call a cab. My brother can’t pick me up. He’s still at the
station.” Why did I feel the need to offer so much information?
“Station?” Mack frowned. “As in
police station?”
Crap!
I bit my lip. “Will you please
let me by? You’re making me nervous and all I want to do is to call someone to
pick me up and take me home.”
“I’ll take you home,” Booker said
as he walked back inside, a scowl on his face directed at “big biker man” in front
of me. “And get the fuck away from her, Mack. You can see she’s freaked.”
“Did she tell you her brother’s a
cop?” Mack demanded.
“Detective, actually,” I
corrected and then dropped my head. I needed to shut the hell up.
“Move the hell away from her,”
Booker repeated. I took a minute to look at him and his expression was a little
scary. He gave his friend a look like he would kill him if he didn’t do as he
said. Instead of making me nervous, it made me feel protected. Another clear
indication here was something inherently wrong with me.
Mack grinned, raising his hands
in surrender as he stepped away from me. I skittered around the desk and back
out in the open, keeping my purse in front of me… for what I’m not sure. I just
felt a little protected somehow.
“Come on. I’ll take you home,”
Booker said.
“No, it’s okay. If you can just
call me a cab, it’ll be fine.”
Booker shook his head. “We’re
closed, darlin’, and it’ll take a while for a taxi, so let me just take you
home.”
I swallowed.
“What?” he asked.
I glanced at Mack and then back
at Booker. “I’m… um… aren’t bikes really dangerous?”
Booker seemed to share another
secret look with Mack before they both burst out laughing.
I pulled my purse closer. “Well,
if you’re going to stand there and laugh at me, then I definitely want to call
a cab.”
Apparently, I’m freaking
hilarious when I’m scared out of my ever-blessed mind, because Mack laughed
harder.
“I’ve got my truck,” Booker said,
once he’d sobered.
“With or without a tarp in the
back?”
Booker frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” I figured
if he was going to murder me there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot I could do
about it at this point. “Yes, a ride home would be much appreciated.”
Booker nodded and waved his hand
toward the roll-up door.
“Nice to meet you,” I said to
Mack and headed outside.
“You too, babe,” Mack said to my
back.
Booker led me to his Ford F-150,
and I turned to face him. “Can I borrow your phone please?”
“What?”
“Your phone. May I borrow it for
a second?”
He reached into his pocket and
handed it to me. “Knock yourself out.”
I stepped in front of the truck
and took a photo of it, along with the license plate, texting the photos to Kim
so she’d know who was driving me home and when I was leaving. At least if he
did murder me, they’d be able to track down my killer.
“Thanks,” I said, and handed the
phone back to him.
He smiled his sexy smile again
and pulled open my door. I wasn’t expecting his gallantry as he waited for me
to climb inside, but I covered my surprise. I didn’t realize badass biker men
did that kind of thing.
Booker climbed in beside me and
started the engine while I buckled up. He didn’t say anything as he guided the
truck away from Arbor Lodge and I took a moment to take in his ride. It was new
with all the bells and whistles, so to speak. Leather seats, wood inlay, and a
kick-ass stereo system… at least it looked like a kick-ass stereo system. It
was currently off.
About ten minutes passed and I
had about all the silence I could handle. “Your real name’s not Booker, is it?”
He glanced at me and shook his head before focusing on the road again. “Are you
going to tell me your real name?”
“Austin Carver.”
“Oh,” I said, unable to hide my
surprise.
He smiled. “Not what you were
expecting?”
“Not really, no. Don’t get me wrong,
it’s a nice name. Sweet sounding, but I guess I expected you be to Maverick or
something like that.”
“Maverick?”
“What’s wrong with Maverick?”
“Only a pussy would ever go by
Maverick.”
“What if that’s the name his
parents gave him?” I challenged.
“Then, if he weren’t a pussy,
he’d change it.”
I bit back a smile. “I won’t tell
Maverick’s mom you said that.”
“You know a Maverick?” he asked.
I nodded. “He’s one of my kids. I
teach kindergarten.”
“Fuck me. Of course you do,” he
grumbled, and pulled onto the freeway.
I gathered my purse close to me
again. For some reason, the fact he didn’t seem to like my choice of employment
bothered me. It shouldn’t. He didn’t know me and he was probably a criminal for
Pete’s sake, but I was the one who felt embarrassed.
“What’s your group’s name?” I
soldiered on, my inability to stay silent when I was nervous working against
me.
“My group?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Your club. Whatever.”
He studied the road again. “Dogs
of Fire.”
“Why did you pick that?” I asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Why did your group… I mean,
club, pick that?”
“Don’t know.”
“You don’t know why they picked
it?” I studied his profile and saw his jaw lock. “Sorry, not my business.”
He neither agreed nor disagreed.
“Do you need my address?” I was
unbelievably desperate for conversation, apparently.
“I have it.”
“Right,” I mumbled. Of course he
did. I’d written it down for him. I studied him again. God, he was beautiful. I
licked my lips and focused back on the road. “So, do you work at Big Ernie’s?”
“Sometimes.”
“So, it’s not your regular job?”
“No.”
“You’re obviously not a
mechanic,” I mused.
“Why do you say that?”
“You’re too clean,” I blurted
out. “I mean, your hands aren’t caked with black oil and stuff. Sorry. Never
mind. It’s none of my business.”
He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“You don’t like silence, do you?”
“I like silence… just not when
I’m nervous. Crap. Never mind. Ignore me.”
“Babe, I’ve been trying to ignore
you since the second I saw your piece of shit car crawling down my street,” he
said.
I gasped, my irritation rising to
dance with my nerves. “Well, you didn’t need to come and rescue me. I didn’t
ask you to.” He chuckled again and I blinked back tears, feeling both angry and
insecure at the same time. “I’m sorry if my talking bugged you. I was just
trying to be friendly,” I continued, because, seriously, I was obviously a
glutton for punishment. “It’s what nice people do when other people help them.
They ask them about their life and find common ground in an effort to make conversation.”
“Is that what they do?” he asked.
“Typically, yes,” I whispered,
and turned toward the window.
I managed to keep my thoughts to
myself as we drove into Hazel Dell and down the private driveway into my
apartment complex. Not the greatest part of town, but also not the worst. It
was what I could afford and it worked for now.
“This is me,” I said, pointing to
the stairway that led to my second floor unit.
“I’ll walk you up.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know,” he said, and climbed
out of the truck.
Gathering my purse, I pulled my
jacket closer around me and pushed open the door. Booker stood on the other
side and, again, waited for me before closing the door and walking me upstairs.
I unlocked my apartment door and pushed it open, flipping the light on before
stepping inside.
“Thank you for everything,” I
said.
“I’ll call you tomorrow or Friday
about your car.”
Crap, right. I was going to have
to pay for my stupid car to be fixed. “Yes. Um, I forgot to ask. Do you take
credit cards?”
He frowned, but then nodded his
head. “Yeah, babe, we take credit cards.”
I relaxed. “Okay, good. Thank
you. Well, it was nice to meet you, Austin. Thanks again for everything.”
He gave me a chin lift in
response and turned and sauntered down the stairs. I know for a fact he
sauntered, because I leaned out my front door and watched him leave. His long,
muscular legs and perfect butt made me sigh, and I realized he probably heard
me, so I ducked back inside and closed and locked my door, leaning against it
to catch my breath.
* * *
Booker
Booker
was fucked. Royally fucked. The second he saw the pretty little blonde trying
to force her car down the street, he’d known he’d help her. Couldn’t really
stop himself. She was gorgeous. Petite, curvy, big tits, nice ass, and she
smelled incredible, but it was the glasses that sent him over the edge. He
could envision her in thigh-highs, pearls, and those glasses while she
straddled and rode him.
When he’d coaxed her out of her
car and she’d started talking, her obvious sense of humor showing even though
she was terrified, he’d watched in fascination as every emotion she was feeling
showed on her face in real time. He couldn’t remember ever meeting a woman more
beautiful… and fucking innocent. Kindergarten teacher and daughter of the chief
of police. Shit.
He dialed Mack’s number and then
started his truck.
“Yo.”
“You got the car over to
Ducky’s?”
“Yeah,” Mack said. “It’s fucked
up. Might need to rebuild the engine.”
“Fuck.” Booker headed onto the
freeway. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
He hung up and stared out at the
road in front of him trying to figure out how the hell he was gonna get out of
this, and whether or not he really wanted to.
This has been a sneak peek of
Road to Desire, Dogs of Fire Book #1
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