F-Bomb (The Bear Bottom Guardians MC Book 9) Read online

  I’d raise my coffee cup at him, apologize profusely and falsely, then head to my porch where I’d finish the rest of my coffee. Once he was all the way down the street, and he could no longer see me anymore, I would go back to the hammock, stretch out, and read my newspaper.

  Periodically I’d lift my gaze to study the street in the distance, and when I didn’t see his tall, dark, forbidding form heading toward me, I’d go back to my paper. It was only when I saw him bobbing in the distance that I’d get up once again and head inside.

  Most of the time he was gone after that.

  He’d find something to do in town that kept him away all day.

  I wondered idly what it was, but other than flat out asking him what he did for a living now that he was no longer in jail, I had to be satisfied with being curious.

  And since I didn’t know anybody in this town that I could ask other than Dre, I would have to continue to be curious.

  The lawnmower suddenly stopped, and my eyes became more focused on his face rather than his abs.

  When they did, I nearly swallowed my tongue when I saw him staring directly at me.

  “What are you staring at?” he called over the length of the yard.

  I shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “You’re staring at me,” he said. “Why?”

  I shrugged. “I was admiring your ankle bracelet.

  He looked down to where the ankle monitor was on his left ankle, then shook his leg to make the jeans fall back over it completely.

  Lies.

  They were all lies.

  I was staring at your abs!

  “I’m expected to have this ankle monitor for six more months. It was a condition of getting paroled early,” he explained.

  I didn’t really care.

  Was it bad that I found a murderer so attractive?

  “I…” I began but was interrupted when a couple of bikes turned onto our quiet street and started heading our way.

  I didn’t speak again as the bikes motored our way, pulled over at the end of my driveway, and parked in between my driveway and his. When they were stopped, they extended their kickstands out almost in sequence and dismounted.

  All the while I watched the man at my side seem to wait for them to arrive with a resigned expression on his face.

  My smile was wide for the first biker.

  The second biker, not so much.

  My dad walked up to me and pulled me into his chest, squeezing me lightly before letting go.

  The other biker went to Slate and offered him his hand.

  “Did you make a new friend?” I asked curiously.

  Dad looked at the biker that’d ridden in with him for a brief second, then shrugged. “No idea who he is. Just met him about ten minutes ago on the ride through town.”

  I nodded my head in understanding.

  “And he just so happened to be going almost to the same place that you were?” I guessed.

  “Actually,” he said. “I’m not here to talk to you. I’m here to talk to your neighbor.”

  I frowned. “What? Why?”

  Dad shuffled my hair with the palm of his hand, then gestured to my coffee cup. “You got any more of that?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do.”

  “Can you grab me some?” he asked.

  I sighed and nodded my head. “Do you want any sugar? Or do you just want it black?”

  “Black,” he answered as he turned and started back for the stairs. “Bring it on over when you get it done.”

  I gave him a thumb’s up and walked back to my door, cautiously peering over my shoulder at the two men that were now watching me go.

  Feeling my heartbeat start to speed up in my chest, I placed a hand to it over my ribs and wondered if I was getting sick.

  There was no way in hell that I was going over there to talk to the three of them.

  Instead, I made the coffee, put it in a to-go cup with donuts on it, then took it out to the porch once again. I didn’t bother to see if I had their attention. Instead, I walked over to the porch railing and placed the coffee cup there. Once I was satisfied that it wasn’t going to fall off into the bushes, I chanced a look toward my father and was unsurprised to see that I had all three of them staring at me.

  Giving a little wave, I gestured at the coffee to my father and said, “I’m going inside to get ready for work. You need anything else?”

  Dad shook his head. Slate’s eyes narrowed.

  The other man still hadn’t acknowledged me in any way.

  Thinking it was for the best, I went to my bedroom and did indeed change and get ready for work.

  Sure, it was an hour early, but I had a feeling I was going to be able to convince Dad that we needed to go eat after this. Whatever ‘this’ was.

  My dad was always up for eating. Morning, noon, or night. Snack. Brunch. Dinner.

  Whatever and whenever, he was down.

  Which was why I hurried even faster.

  If I wasn’t ready by the time my father needed to leave, he’d use it as an excuse not to take me.

  Slipping into a pair of scrub bottoms that were fitting me kind of loose lately, I checked out my appearance in the mirror and tried to decide if tonight was going to be a good shift or not.

  I hadn’t worked many night shifts with this particular group of staff before, so having to learn other peoples’ habits was wearing on me.

  I heard a bike sound, followed by some cursing.

  Thinking that the people were leaving, I rushed through my makeup, putting on half as much as I would have had this been different.

  With my mascara wand still in my hand, I rushed out of the house while also still applying mascara.

  It was only when I was all the way down the steps, and halfway across the yard, that I realized that the loud truck I’d heard wasn’t actually anybody leaving.

  Well, not my father or Slate, anyway.

  Who was leaving was the reason Dre and I had rented the house we had.

  There was a large truck parked in front of the house across the street, and none other than Dre’s man was stepping out of it.

  Well, Dre’s used-to-be man.

  My heart ached at the first look at Craig, just as it always did.

  And, like always, the moment he saw me, he turned away.

  I felt my stomach tighten as I watched helplessly as he looked once more at me, turned, then walked straight into his house without a backward glance.

  That was when I remembered Dre, who’d been sitting on the couch as I’d exited.

  There was no way he hadn’t heard the commotion.

  Especially when I’d exited the house.

  Turning, I saw Dre on the front porch, looking like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest.

  I swallowed hard, then walked up the length of the sidewalk, up the front porch steps, then wrapped my arms around Dre. Dre, being Dre, wrapped his arms right back around me and said, “He’s not giving me a chance.”

  I felt my heart thump hard in my chest.

  “Dre,” I murmured. “I think it’s time to stop being rational about this. Stop creeping around him like he’s going to remember. Maybe you have to give him new memories. New reasons to love you.”

  It’d been years. I honestly felt that if he was going to remember, Craig would have.

  Craig was healed. He was whole.

  He just wasn’t the same Craig that he used to be, and it was time for Dre to take that into consideration.

  When I stepped back from Dre, it was to find him staring at me with a new determination in his eyes.

  “You’re right.”

  I patted his chest.

  “I know,” I murmured.

  “Who’s the man staring at me?”

  I turned and looked over my shoulder to see the who he was talking about.

  Slate now had his back turned away from us, and he was standing stiffly with his arms crossed over his chest, listening to something my dad was saying.
He also had drops of wetness on his t-shirt from my earlier payback.

  The other man with him, though?

  Bayou was married to Phoebe, one of my childhood friends. He was ‘as sweet as can be’ according to her, but he was intimidating to the rest of the world. He fit right into that circle of badass just like my father and Slate did.

  “He’s hot,” Dre supplied.

  I snorted. “That’s all it takes for you? The death glares that he’s sending out don’t affect you any?”

  Dre snorted and shrugged. “I can’t help what my eyes see.”

  But there was still sadness there. A deep-seated, never going to heal sadness that made my heart ache every time I saw him.

  I patted him lightly on the shoulder, then realized briefly that I still had my mascara wand in my hand. “Can you go put this back?”

  He took the wand, rolled his eyes, then said, “Don’t forget the lunch I made you.”

  I gave him a nod, went back inside, grabbed my bag and my lunch, then walked back out to my car to deposit it all inside.

  The moment that I had it all in, I slammed the car door then walked back to the huddle that the men had going on.

  I walked up to my dad, being super careful to be as quiet as possible, just like he taught me, stopped about a foot away, then said loudly, “Dad!”

  My father’s shoulders tightened, and he turned with a glare on his face. “Must you do that?”

  I smiled sweetly at him. “All’s fair in love and war.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “I taught you how to do that so you could do it to your brother. Not to me,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Do you want to go get some dinner before my shift starts?”

  My eyes went to the man that was trying hard to ignore me, as well as the man that wasn’t trying hard at all.

  I walked up to the one doing the ignoring, stared him straight in the eye, and held out my hand.

  “My name is Harleigh.”

  Bayou looked at my hand, and honestly considered not taking it. I could practically see the wheels turning inside his head. As if he wanted nothing to do with me. Which was how he always acted every single time I saw him.

  Well fine.

  I didn’t need to shake his hand. My father had just taught me never to be rude. So whatever.

  I dropped it.

  He held out his hand as if he felt bad for not taking mine, and I snorted and walked away.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Dad, you want to come or not?”

  My father caught me by the braid, tugged me back around, and threw his arm around my shoulder, anchoring me to his side.

  “Harleigh Belle, don’t be rude.” Dad gestured to the man that was still holding his hand out for me.

  I rolled my eyes and shook it once, then dropped my hand as if he’d burned me.

  Bayou dropped his hand to his side and looked relieved to have the encounter over with.

  He was also looking at something over my head, and not me directly.

  “Nice to see you,” he muttered.

  He had a nice voice, though.

  Yum.

  “You, too,” I said, then shrugged. “Dinner, Dad? I don’t have much time. You should’ve called before coming over.”

  My dad gave me a squeeze. “I didn’t come to see you, baby. I came to see Slate.”

  I stiffened and pulled out of his arms. “You didn’t.”

  Dad’s eyes were crinkled at the edges.

  “You were the one to give me him.” He tried to make this all right.

  “He sprayed me with the sprinklers!” I cried out, this time waving my arms as if it would help.

  Dad sighed. “You were on his property.”

  The man that was now very much paying attention to me snorted.

  I narrowed my eyes. “If you do this, I’ll never make you another peanut butter and honey sandwich again.”

  Dad look amused. “It’s already done, baby.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it.

  Opened it again, made a sound of frustration, then started marching toward my car.

  I stopped halfway, turned, and looked at my dad who wasn’t looking at me.

  Slate was, though.

  So was his friend, Bayou.

  I narrowed my eyes at them, then decided.

  Two could play at this game.

  Heading inside, I walked over to Dre, who was busy sitting on the couch looking mighty forlorn.

  “Come on,” I said as I walked past him. “You’re going to dinner with me. But first, you’re going to show me how to work this goddamn sprinkler system.”

  Chapter 4

  Excuse me while I go slip into something more alcohol.

  -Coffee Cup

  Slate

  “My married neighbor bugs the absolute shit out of me,” I found it prudent to say.

  Izzy, who was busy pulling her kids out of the car, paused and turned to look at the neighbor’s house.

  “Harleigh?” she asked. “Are you talking about that one over there?”

  I looked to where she was pointing and nodded.

  Faintly I heard a car approaching, and knew that it had to either be she who shall not be talked about, or the neighbor who’d had a moving truck over yesterday. I was seriously hoping it was the moving neighbor, because I didn’t want to see her.

  “She’s not…”

  Astrid came running to me, interrupting what was about to be said by her mother.

  The way she did it, however, was by running toward the street to ease around the vehicle her mother had parked in front of.

  I felt my heart lurch into my throat, and I started around the truck just in time for Astrid to screech her happiness at seeing me.

  At first, our relationship hadn’t been such a happy one.

  Astrid had been scared to death of me.

  But, over time, Astrid had slowly warmed up to me, and by the end of my stay there, we’d come to be great friends.

  “Hey, baby,” I said, scooping her up and pulling her into my chest.

  My eyes met Izzy’s, and we exchanged an ‘oh my God’ look together.

  I turned to look at the car that, vaguely, I’d heard screech to a stop the moment that Astrid had darted out into the road.

  It was her.

  I gave her a chin lift and turned back to Astrid who was busy animatedly telling me about her day.

  “Wait, wait,” I said as I walked back to the front driveway. “Start over and tell me what you just said again.”

  “I have a boyfriend!” she repeated enthusiastically.

  I looked over at Izzy who only rolled her eyes.

  “A new boy showed up at the daycare today,” she explained.

  Well, actually what it sounded like was ‘a new boy something something something something day,’ but Izzy helpfully translated for her daughter.

  I grinned and winked at Izzy, who was rolling her eyes at her daughter’s excited babbling.

  I only caught every other third word, but eventually I got the gist of her new friend being a boy. And him being ‘cute.’

  Well, as long as ‘coot’ meant cute, that was.

  “You got the other one?” I asked, gesturing to where Izzy was trailing behind.

  In answer, Izzy handed me the car seat, a look of relief crossing over her face as she did.

  “Thanks,” she murmured. “I strained my shoulder at work yesterday, and now I can barely hold anything heavy. I’ve been trying to use the other arm, but now that arm is getting sore from all the heavy lifting.”

  I was about to open my mouth to scold her for not telling me at first, but Astrid wriggled in my arms.

  I set her down and she ran toward the hammock, throwing herself at it.

  I watched in horror as the hammock spun.

  Astrid, holding on to it for dear life, went ass over tea kettle and ended up on the other side, on her back, staring up at the sky.

  It’d all happened so fast that I hadn�
��t even had the chance to tell her no.

  Then the crying started, and I felt like my heart broke a thousand times.

  Before I could get to her, though, that woman who I’d been studiously avoiding made it to her, picked her up, and looked at her.

  Astrid stopped crying, then threw her hand around the random stranger’s—to her anyway—neck.

  Izzy sighed and started toward them.

  “I swear, she gets her gracefulness from me,” Izzy exclaimed as she made it to Harleigh.

  “This was totally a power move,” Harleigh teased. “She tackled that hammock so hard that it never stood a chance. She’s fierce.”

  Izzy chuckled.

  Astrid lifted her head up to get a look at the woman holding her.

  “Hello,” Harleigh said to Astrid.

  Astrid blinked back large tears. “Hi.”

  “You okay?” Harleigh asked.

  Astrid nodded, then wiped the tears, and her snot, with the back of her hand.

  I grimaced when she put her hand back down on Harleigh’s shoulder.

  Harleigh took it like a champ, though. She didn’t flinch once.

  “Well, that’s wonderful,” she said softly. “That was a pretty big tumble you took. Do you want to get in the hammock?”

  Astrid immediately shook her head.

  “It’s my favorite place to take a nap,” she whispered. “You just got to go slow when you get in it. Otherwise you’ll land on your back like you just did. Want to know why I know that?”

  Astrid blinked owlishly.

  “Because I’ve done it. Plenty of times.” She snickered. “Sometimes things startle me, too, when I’m taking a nap. I’ve fallen in front of the UPS man, the exterminator, and the water meter reader.”

  “What’s a terminantator?” Astrid asked.

  “An exterminator is a man that comes by your house and kills all the bugs in it,” she explained. “Because I don’t like roaches or spiders. They scare me to death.”

  “Is that why you sleep out here?” Izzy asked teasingly as she walked up to the two.

  A look passed in between the two women as Harleigh handed off Astrid to her mother.

  “Yes and no,” she said, surprising me. “But the reason I sleep outside doesn’t really have to do with an actual bug. More like one of the human variety.”