Charge to My Line Read online

  My inner bitch wanted to snarl at him for daring to say that woman’s name in my presence, but luckily my reasonable side managed not to let her win.

  I snorted. “Some compromise. Are you sure you and Molly aren’t together?”

  He shook his head. “No. She was just helping me. Which she didn’t really do much of. Only helped pick out the colors while she grimaced every time she saw someone dirty.”

  I burst out laughing. “It’s a home improvement store. If you can’t come dirty to a place like that, where can you?”

  A smirk crooked up the side of his lips. “Damn straight. That’s what I kept trying to tell her. She never goes anywhere without being decked out to the nines. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in a pair of shoes that doesn’t have a heel on it.”

  “Well,” I pursed my lips. “That’s funny, since I don’t think I own a pair that has a heel on it.”

  “I knew there was something smart about you,” he said as he took the can of paint with his color of choice in it.

  He muttered a thank you, and we were off to the door knob section where he quickly offered up a suggestion, which I took gratefully.

  Why there were over twenty choices for door handles, I didn’t know.

  After we paid, we walked out, hand in hand, once again.

  “So you want to meet me there?” I asked.

  His eyes moved from the parking lot in front of us to me before he answered. “How about I pick you up from your parent’s house?”

  I thought about that for all of two seconds before answering. “Sure. Do you know where that’s at?”

  He nodded. “I’ll meet you there once I drop my paint off. Sound good?”

  At my nod, he leaned forward, gave me a soft kiss on the head, and sauntered away.

  His ass looked just as good as the front of him did.

  “God,” I breathed as I watched him shove the can of paint into the saddle bags roughly, and then straddle the bike.

  Those powerful thigh muscles were beautiful. I couldn’t help thinking about what they’d look like as he thrust deeply into my body.

  The sharp sound of his motor revving to life pulled me out of my daydream as he slowly walked the bike backwards, turned towards the exit, and thundered off. Catching every man, woman, and child’s attention in the parking lot.

  I shook my head, smiling all the way.

  I was in deep.

  Chapter 8

  Why is it so hard to draw a star without the lines in the middle?

  -One of life’s unanswered questions

  Tru

  “I know who he is, baby. Your daddy won’t hurt him,” my mother said softly as she sat on the front porch with me.

  I looked at her worriedly. “I know he won’t do anything in front of us. It’s away from us that I’m worried about.”

  She was about to reply when Grayson pulled up on his bike.

  This time, though, he was wearing a nicer pair of jeans, a plain black t-shirt, his motorcycle club vest, and a black and gold Saint’s hat covering his pretty black hair.

  “Oh, my. He is one good looking man,” my mom breathed.

  “I heard that, woman,” my father grumbled as he made his way out on the front porch. “What’s that jackass doing here?”

  I closed my eyes in mortification. “That’s the ride I’ve been waiting on.”

  My dad’s eyes met mine and narrowed. “You’re shitting me. You’re letting Torren help you buy a car over me?”

  He spit the name out of his mouth like it was the dirtiest word he’d ever said, and I had to smother the laugh that threated to boil up out of my throat as my mother pinned him with her cop look.

  “Frank Hubert Doherty. Knock it off,” my mother snapped.

  My dad’s eyes narrowed on my mother, but there was no anger in his expression. Only happiness.

  My mother hadn’t yelled at him in nearly four months now.

  She’d been too tired. Too weak.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll control myself,” he conceded.

  Grayson made his way up to the front walk and stopped right in front of my father, offering his hand. “Sir.”

  My dad took Grayson’s hand with reluctance. “Trammel.”

  I could see Grayson’s eyes dance with laughter.

  After a quick up and down pump of his hand, dad let him go and went to stand by my mother, who was watching the exchange with her cop eyes.

  “Hello again, Grayson. It’s nice seeing you again,” my mom said softly.

  Grayson grinned, showing off perfectly straight teeth. “It’s good to see you not in a hospital. You look like you have a bit more color on your cheeks today.”

  My mom smiled at him warmly, and my heart filled to bursting once again.

  It was so nice to see her genuinely smiling, instead of the fake shit she kept trying to pass off recently.

  My dad didn’t miss the happiness dancing in her eyes, either. Making him soften, if only minutely.

  My eyes ate Grayson up.

  Geez, but the man was hot.

  I wanted to lick him.

  Preferably soon.

  “Are you ready, Grayson?” I asked as I stood.

  My dad was the one to answer. “Why do y’all keep calling him Grayson? The man’s name is Torren.”

  I turned to my dad, the man that I’d forever compare all men to, and frowned. “You called him Trammel.”

  He glared at me. “That’s ‘cause that’s what he’s called at the station. I’ve heard from the men he doesn’t like going by Grayson.”

  I turned to Grayson in horror. “You don’t like being called Grayson?”

  He shrugged. “It’s never been my favorite, but I answer to it. You, I don’t mind using it, though. For some reason, when you use it, it doesn’t come off as sounding quite so romance-novel-esque.”

  I blinked. “Well, okay then. But I don’t want to call you something you don’t like going by.”

  He shook his head. “You ready to go?”

  After saying our goodbyes, I made my way down the front walk, looking at his bike in wonder. “I’ve never been on a bike before.”

  He looked down at me, but I kept my eyes on the bike, taking in the shiny chrome and the black gleaming paint. It was older, but still very large and intimidating looking.

  “I’m glad I’ll pop that cherry,” he teased as we reached his bike.

  Little did he know that hit a little closer to home than he realized.

  “Did you just go buy that helmet?” I asked, surprised when I saw the pink helmet strapped to the back seat.

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve had it for a while now. No one’s used it before, though.”

  I knew he’d most likely bought it for Molly, but I wasn’t willing to ruin the moment by bringing her up.

  “I like it. It reminds me of the paint on a bass boat,” I said as I ran the tip of my finger along the sparkly top.

  He picked the helmet up and strapped it onto my head.

  “Feel okay?” He asked, his gray eyes boring into my own green ones as he held the side of my head with both hands.

  I nodded, licking my lips involuntarily, causing his eyes to flick down and take in the movement before he returned his gaze to my eyes.

  “Good,” he rasped and then took a step back, dropping one hand and offering me the other.

  I took it and straddled the bike, resting my ass on the padded seat at the back.

  He mounted shortly after me and started the engine with a rough thrust of his leg.

  The bike rumbled to life, and I squealed as the vibrations shot through me.

  “Holy shit!” I exclaimed loudly, scooting down until I was nearly crotch to ass with him.

  He threw a grin over his shoulder, reached backwards for my hands, and wrapped them tightly around his torso. “Hang on. Once we get away from the parents, then we’ll ride.”

  And ride we sure as hell did.

  Thoroughly.

  ***

/>   “I think I should go look at something cheaper,” I hyperventilated as I saw the price of the car again.

  Grayson looked at me. “Yeah, they’re pretty back breaking. It’s hard to think about spending thirty five grand on something like this. It’s a big commitment.”

  He could say that again. I had expected something more like twenty, not thirty five. I’d been so naïve.

  “Offer him thirty two,” I demanded as we watched the salesman walk back with the keys to the SUV.

  He looked down at me sharply. “Why me?”

  “Because I have a vagina, and you have a penis,” I said obviously.

  He snorted. “And what’s that got to do with anything?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. Just that he won’t bullshit you like he would me. Everyone knows that!”

  “Doubt it. But I’ll try for you,” he said as the salesman took the final four feet to us.

  Wasting no time, Grayson looked the salesman in the eye and said, “Thirty.”

  I barely contained the urge to giggle. “I could’ve done that!”

  The salesman shook his head, grinning. “No can do on that. I can do thirty one five. That’s the lowest we can go.”

  “Make it thirty one, and we’ll take it,” Grayson said evenly.

  The salesman pursed his lips. “Let me talk to my manager.”

  ***

  “Holy shit!” I squealed as we pulled up to my place in my brand new car.

  Grayson grinned hugely at me. “What?”

  “I can’t believe you got them to knock nearly four thousand dollars off the asking price. I want to be you when I grow up,” I breathed.

  He chuckled and unhooked his seatbelt. “Too bad you couldn’t park in the driveway,” he said dryly.

  I grimaced and looked at the two trucks parked where I normally did. “Yeah, they’re nice like that.”

  He frowned and stepped out of my new car, his boots clunking on the pavement one by one as he slid out of the seat.

  I watched him exit the car fully before following his direction.

  “So which truck is Colby’s?” He asked as he eyed the two vehicles taking up way more of the driveway than they needed to.

  Assholes.

  “The blue Ford. Bobby’s is the brown Dodge,” I muttered as I walked up the walkway to my house.

  He grunted in reply.

  I opened the front door, which had chosen to actually latch closed for once, and swung the door wide, unsurprised to see two men taking over our living room as they stared at the screen with controllers in their hands.

  Iliana was nowhere to be seen.

  “What do you need from me?” I asked as I gestured to the new lock he was carrying in his hands.

  He looked down. “Phillips head screwdriver.”

  Walking into the kitchen to our junk drawer, I pulled out the screwdriver and brought it back to Grayson.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll go get changed, and once you’re done we can go,” I said hopefully.

  His eyes flicked to the two men sitting on their asses, not acknowledging us at all, and he nodded. I knew with that one look he surmised that I didn’t want to be there.

  I left him to the knob as I walked to my room and shut it quietly behind me.

  I made quick work of my clothes, changing into an old pair of cutoff jeans that were now shorts, and a stained black t-shirt that I’d painted our bathroom in last winter.

  The shirt resembled the one Grayson had worn earlier. Threadbare and oh so soft. The arm holes were cut down low so the wide band of my sports bra showed.

  Packing a bag, since I planned to stay at my parents for the weekend, I came out ten minutes later to see Grayson leaning up against the wall, flipping the key ring around on his finger as he glared at the man sitting on the couch in front of him.

  Uh-oh.

  “Hey,” I said walking up to Grayson. “All done?”

  He nodded. “Yep. You ready?”

  I nodded, chancing a look over my shoulder to see Colby glaring a hole into my back. “Yes. I’m ready when you are.”

  At his nod I turned to the two men sitting on my couch. Both watching me now.

  “Will you tell Iliana that I won’t be here this weekend?” Directing my question to Bobby.

  At his nod, I turned to go, grabbing Grayson’s hand as I went.

  “Did they say anything?” I asked once we were in my car.

  Grayson looked up from his spot in the driver’s seat, watching something.

  Following his gaze, I saw Colby standing at the living room blinds, watching us.

  “Nothing. He’s just a dick,” Grayson said roughly.

  “Okay,” I agreed. Even though I knew that something had to have been said to elicit that kind of reaction out of the usually mild tempered man.

  Chapter 9

  Firemen do it hotter.

  -T-shirt

  Torren

  “That guy’s such a fucking dick,” I seethed as I watched the stupid prick of a cop walk away.

  “You can say that again. What’s his fucking problem?” Sebastian snarled, glancing down at the ticket in his hand.

  “Who gives firefighters tickets when they’re on their way to a goddamn call?” Kettle snapped from his position in the passenger seat.

  “One that’s pissed that I’m dating the girl he likes,” I supplied.

  I was beyond pissed.

  After the words that’d been exchanged on Saturday, I knew the stupid fuck was out to get me.

  “I met up with Tru at Lowe’s this weekend. Found that guy practically pinning her to the rack when I stepped in. She clung to me like I was her lifeline. I later followed her home to replace her doorknob. When she was changing her clothes, the stupid fuck started spouting off about how they were an item and I was stepping in somewhere I didn’t belong. When I told him I wasn’t backing off, he got all pissy and told me I wasn’t going to like the results if I didn’t back off. Guess this was one of those results he was talking about,” I ground out through clenched teeth.

  Even now, nearly a week later, it still had the power to piss me off.

  Sebastian looked back at me, followed shortly by Kettle. “You’re fucking joking.”

  I shook my head. “Dead fucking serious.”

  “Well,” Sebastian said as he threw the ticket on his dash and pulled back into traffic. “Fucker doesn’t know who he’s messing with.”

  ***

  “Hello?” I answered my phone as I stepped in through my front door.

  “Grayson?” Tru’s sweet voice quivered through the phone.

  I froze. “Yeah, honey?”

  I’d given Tru my phone number the night I’d dropped her off at her parent’s place after we painted my living room.

  I’d even had a beer with Frank, even though he still didn’t like me very much. This was the first I’d heard from her since both of us were busy at work. Especially me, since I’d pulled a 48 so Sebastian could take a couple days off to go up to visit the cemetery where his good friends were laid to rest.

  “I think there’s something wrong with the door handle you replaced. When I got home, it was open again.”

  I blinked in surprise. The door was sturdy, as was the frame. When I’d left, the door handle had been on there perfectly well. It wasn’t broken.

  “How about I come pick you up for dinner, and take a look at it?” I asked as I dropped the bag over my shoulder down to the ground in the foyer.

  She sighed. “That’d be great. It’s really starting to freak me out that it’s always open.”

  What woman…or man for that matter…would like to come home to their home being open when that wasn’t the way they left it? I had a feeling that there was something else going on here besides a faulty door handle, but I didn’t want to alarm her without due cause.

  “Be there in twenty,” I said as I turned around and headed back out the door.

  “Thanks,” she breathed, before hanging up.

>   The entire way to her house, I thought about what she’d said about her door handle and tried to think back to when I’d tested the old one.

  It’d been sturdy as well, which begged to mention…how was the thing open every night when she got home if she’d been closing it behind her?

  I could see accidentally leaving it open once. But not the multiple times it’d been happening to Tru.

  I drove past her sister’s place and waved, startling the sister who I’d never met, and had a good laugh the entire way to Tru’s thinking about the woman’s expression.

  I got that a lot, so it wasn’t surprising. It still cracked me up to see how scared people would react when I’d come by. It was just something about the motorcycle, the cut, and the stature of a biker that people found intimidating.

  Even when I was in my department uniform, I elicited that response out of people.

  Which I should be used to after all these years, yet it still made me laugh each and every time.

  I saw Tru as soon as I pulled up to her house.

  Instead of going inside, she’d taken a seat in her car to wait.

  Smart girl.

  “Hey,” I said as I shut the motor off and she made her way to me.

  “Hey,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”

  I waved off her thanks. “You’re welcome. If my craftsmanship is faulty, I sure as hell want to know. My man card might need to be revoked if I can’t put on something as simple as a door knob.”

  She snorted before turning to walk towards the house, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her into my arms, startling her at first.

  I caught her easily and enfolded her into my chest, planting my nose into her hair.

  She melted into me, burying her face into my neck.

  I squeezed her a little tighter, enjoying the feel of her in my arms. “You okay, Tru?”

  She nodded, not lifting her head from my chest. “Yeah. Just…worried.”

  I could relate. I was worried about her, too.

  “Let me go check it out, and then we’ll get going,” I said.

  However, I didn’t move, and neither did she.

  We stayed like that, her wrapped up tightly in my arms, until her friend came home.

  With the boyfriend.

  Oh, joy.

  “Maybe your friend’s man can check it out. We can go straight to dinner,” I suggested quickly, wanting to get out of there before the brother decided to come over and make me remodel his face.