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Warrior (Forgotten Rebels MC Book 4) Page 5
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He cradled his head with his hands and slumped over. He hadn’t had such a reaction this strong in quite a while. In fact, he thought he’d moved past the fear of loud noises. His shrink had certainly thought so. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
“It’s okay, Darrell,” she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got your back, too.”
He took the moment to not only get a grip on his erratic thoughts and heartbeat but to savor Church’s brand of comfort. Her touching him was a big deal, and he knew that. He may not know the reason why she shunned the touch of another, but at the moment, he didn’t care. The place where her hand rested caused a bolt of lightning to shoot straight to his groin, proving that his dick definitely wasn’t broken. He’d always had a reaction to her nearness, but he had never anticipated such a visceral response. He shifted, uncomfortable with the thought that he couldn’t keep his cock under control, and unfortunately his shifting caused her hand to lower away from his shoulder.
“I’ve got to change the tire,” she said, as if his world hadn’t just tilted off its axis. “I’ll be right back.”
He sat up, frowning. “I can do it.”
“If you want to help, fine,” she replied. “But if you need a moment to yourself, then I’m giving it to you.”
She hopped out of the cab and her door slammed shut, leaving him alone in the cab. He sighed and leaned his head back as he stared out of the windshield. He felt like he’d just suffered through whiplash, from the blind terror of the past to a simmering lust he couldn’t seem to shake. Trying to navigate Church Farlander was like trying to drive through the desert, oftentimes terrifying and more than slightly unpredictable. The first time he had met her he knew she’d change his life. In what way, for better or worse, he still wondered about, but one thing that was painfully clear was she had planted him firmly into the friends category.
When he had himself somewhat in control, he opened the cab door and exited. Church kneeled on the ground as she placed the jack in the right position to lift the truck.
“Where’s the spare?” he asked.
“Underneath the carriage.” Church secured the jack before standing, brushing dirt off her hands onto the sides of her jeans. “When we get to Cape I’ll stop to get a new set.”
She ducked low to remove the spare and together they quickly worked to change the destroyed tire. Not once did she bring up the incidence, and for that he was grateful. They soon got back on the road to resume their trip, but the atmosphere had shifted. Out of the corner of his eye, he studied her, noticing she seemed more relaxed. The rigid set of her jaw not quite so clenched. If he didn’t know her better, she looked to be at ease. Then she glanced at him and smiled, and that was the moment he knew his heart was in trouble.
Chapter Six
Masterson listened to the conversation that came through the bug he had planted in the garage. A cacophony of excited voices that pissed him off as he tried to make out who was saying what, and he had half a mind to go in with guns blazing to shut the fuckers up. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that, however satisfying it might make him feel. His job was about the Farlander sister, not the loudmouths she surrounded herself with.
“Is she coming back?”
The question caught his attention and he waited to see who would answer.
“Eventually,” said the old man sitting on the couch. “This is her bed I’m sitting on.”
“Her bed?” the older woman asked, sounding aghast. “She sleeps here?”
“Church has no problem sleeping in weird places,” her sister chimed in. For a moment, Masterson remembered the night he had last seen Cherry Farlander. The contract on her had expired when he’d shot and killed Warren Cabot.
“Where does she go to the bathroom?” the older woman continued asking. “Or shower? How does she cook? Is there a kitchen?”
“She installed a full bathroom right after buying this property,” Cherry replied. “As for a kitchen, well, she’s not really the domestic type. She prefers working on engines.”
“So you must be very close to her,” she said.
“We’re twins,” Cherry replied. “But Church is her own person.”
“What does that mean?”
Some scuffling noises came through the planted bug and it negated some of the conversation. When it finally died down, it picked back up on the older woman talking and Masterson lost some of the intel he’d been trying to gather.
“… about Darrell, the man she drove off with?”
“He’s not her boyfriend, but they are close friends. She’s revamping his bike over there so he can ride it again.”
“Again?”
“He lost a leg in service,” Heart replied.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But I bet he’s seen a lot of what happens in military hospitals. He’d be key to question and to find out if a drug rehab would be good here.”
“You were serious about that?” Joe-Joe asked.
“Of course. Why would you think I wasn’t?”
“Do you know this club makes—”
“Joe-Joe!” Heart broke in harshly, effectively silencing the old man. “No need to bore the good doctor with insignificant details. In fact, why don’t we head back to the clubhouse and leave Church’s workspace?”
“Yes,” chimed in Cherry. “In fact, let’s close up for her. If she wants to reopen when she gets back, then I’m sure she’ll appreciate us watching out for her equipment.”
Masterson shut down his eavesdropping program and watched from his hidden vantage point as the people inside Church’s garage left. Cherry was the last one out after closing the bay doors.
Instinct, and years of being in the very same situation time and again, told him he wouldn’t see Church again until either very late or tomorrow. But it was good to know she used the garage as a sort of apartment. That meant he wouldn’t have to go infiltrating a second place. He could focus solely on her and the garage.
It meant a smaller frame to watch in an effort to finish the job he was paid to do.
****
The first place Church stopped at was a discount tire store where she purchased four new tires. As they waited for the labor to be complete, Darrell sat down and pulled out his cell phone to start playing a game on it. Church sat next to him and leaned over his arm to watch.
“I don’t get it,” she said after a few minutes.
“You have to swap colored pieces of candy on the board to make a match of three or more of the same color.”
“But why?”
“You eliminate those candies from the board and replace them with new ones.”
“But why?” she asked again.
“To match up four or more candies so you can get power-ups to help clear the board. And you only have a fixed number of moves to do it. Or time. You can change to a timer if you prefer playing that way. It’s really a skills game, as well as having a bit of luck.”
“And what do you win?”
“Nothing. It’s a game. You know, to stimulate your mind.”
“I don’t think you’re stimulating your mind. I think your mind is actually going numb. I know mine is just from watching you.”
“Then don’t watch me.”
She didn’t move. “I can’t seem to look away. I think you’ve hypnotized me with this game.”
He grinned but kept on playing.
“Look!” she cried, pointing to the small screen. “There’s three purple hexagons in a row!”
“Yep. I see ’em.”
“Miss Farlander?” called the salesman. “Your truck is ready.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving at him. “Just a minute.”
Darrell turned his head to grin at her, and that was when she realized how close she was to him, practically on his lap. And with that revelation came the unmistakable feel of his body pressing into hers, or more accurately, her body molded to his. Her breasts pushed against his arm, her hip fitted snugly against his. Eve
ry outline and curve warmed instantly with a feeling she’d never had before. Excitement. A dipping and rolling movement in her belly. Her mouth went dry as she looked at his lips and absently wondered how he kissed. The amusement left his face as he stared at her. Neither one of them moved, and Church was a little scared to break the suspended moment. His breath fanned across her cheek, and she felt herself leaning forward.
“You want me to ring you up?”
The salesman’s question jarred her out of the sensual haze that suspended her and she jerked away from Darrell. Standing, she took several deep breaths to quell the quiver in her knees. Tunnel vision clouded her peripheral vision as she walked up to the sales counter and she was relieved when she made it without falling down or stumbling.
What the hell just happened?
The answer remained elusive as she paid for the tires, not even understanding what she signed as papers were placed in front of her. Once she got the keys, she headed outside, not bothering to look for Darrell. He could’ve stayed behind for all she cared.
She ignored the little voice in her head that whispered she did care.
As she slid into the driver’s seat, Darrell settled next to her. She didn’t look at him because she couldn’t. There was no way she wanted to face those weird feelings again.
“After we get the alternator, how about we to go Ribbets to eat?”
Darrell’s casual question caught her off guard and she glanced at him. He stared at her steadily, without one single hint of guile or lust.
“Ribbets?”
He nodded. “For the frog legs. Come on, you can’t bail on me now. I still owe you ten dollars and I’m hungry.”
She blinked, not knowing how to answer because the absolute casualness of the response jarred with the tailspin she’d just been in.
“Oh,” she said. “Okay. Fine.”
He looked away, staring out of the front windshield. Taking a deep breath, Church pushed aside the awkwardness she felt and started the engine. As she drove, the silence between them became less and less strained, as if she were driving away from the charged situation. Her heartrate returned to normal and the tension eased out of her shoulders.
It was just my imagination, she thought. Nothing more than that.
Chapter Seven
“You know what type of clothes a lawyer wears?”
Church blinked, looking beautifully confused. Darrell vowed to himself right then and there to tell her corny jokes every day.
“Lawsuits.”
Her smile was slow in coming, but eventually he was rewarded with a throaty laugh, even if it only lasted a second or two.
“Cute,” she said. She folded her napkin and placed it on top of her plate before pushing it away.
“I know I am.” He pointed his thumb at himself. “My mama always told me so.”
“And not full of it at all.”
“Who me?”
She shook her head in an amused gesture. “Well, thanks for dinner. And … thanks for breaking the ice.”
“My pleasure, although I’m not sure what ice I broke.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know.”
Yeah, he knew. Question was, did he want to go down that path? Church had a habit of pulling so far back she ended up in a different county. Then again, he knew she appreciated honesty, and he vowed to always play it straight with her.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he murmured.
She bit her lip and looked away. “Yeah. Okay.”
Disappointment slashed through him but he pushed it aside. This was Church and when it came to what she was thinking, it was easier walking barefoot through a cactus patch. And more preferable. He decided to go with the obvious.
“Thanks for eating with me,” he said. “I love this place.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Like I had a choice?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately. “I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I hope you know that.”
“Except pay up on a bet.” She held out her hand. “How about you give me my winnings now?”
He chuckled and reached in his front jeans pocket, pulling out some haphazardly crumpled-up bills. He sorted through the pile until he pulled out a ten dollar bill.
“Here you go,” he said. “Debt paid in full.”
She took the money and shoved it into her bra. That little gesture was sexy as hell and he shifted in his seat in an effort to ease the tightness of his jeans.
“So why is this your favorite restaurant? Do you really like frog legs that much?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Yeah, but … well, my parents used to come here all the time. Some of my best childhood memories are of all of us sitting down and sharing this time together.”
“Your mom isn’t with us anymore?”
“No,” he said. “Ovarian cancer when I was fifteen. Once she was gone, I spent all my time at the club. Hell, even back then I remember Wick being a pain in the ass all the damn time.”
“I thought you believed Wick is still a pain in the ass.”
“Well, yeah. Of course he is. He’s like a hemorrhoid I can’t fix but he’s still the president of the club.”
“Is that something you want to change?”
He paused and thought about the question. Was it? Did he want to be president? His father had been president for years, and that job had kept him from his wife, even when she’d fallen ill.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Being president is a tough commitment. I saw it take my father from my mother’s side. And I see it take Wick from Abbott’s side every day.”
“But you don’t have anyone to be taken from,” she pointed out.
Out of nowhere came the thought that she’d be his anyone, if she wanted to be part of his life. He let the idea roll forward and it played out like a fantasy Leave it to Beaver, minus the kids and monochromatic coloring. She’d be working in the garage by day and he’d be … doing whatever. Darrell frowned as he realized perhaps the first step toward that future was figuring out what he wanted to do in life.
“Earth to Darrell,” she said, and it snapped him out of his mental musings. He blinked and Church came swimming back into focus. “Where’d you go?”
“I don’t want to be president,” he finally admitted and he winced at the confession. “My father would turn over in his grave if he heard me admit that.”
“Why? He didn’t like Wick?”
“Nope, not one little bit. Especially when Wick began campaigning against him. But the truth was, the club was changing. The vets had gotten old and needed all kinds of medicine and medical help which meant they needed money. We all have benefits but some only partial and of course, you have to wait days or weeks for any type of appointment. And let’s face it, bikers don’t usually take care of themselves.”
“So Wick took the club in a new direction,” she concluded. “The path that eventually involved my sister.”
“Yep.”
“And you don’t think your way is challenging for Wick’s position.”
He shook his head. “Ever since you handed me that doctor’s card with the idea of building a drug rehab center … it’s like a magnet that keeps drawing me. I talked with Wick and surprisingly, he agreed to talk with her about it. I think … I really think this is the right path to lead the club.”
“I agree with you,” she said softly. “And I bet if you talk with Cherry and Abbott you might find some allies.”
He hadn’t thought of that route, but Wick’s words came back to him, What have I done for her? Perhaps he just found the answer. Darrell reached out and took hold of Church’s hand, squeezing it in gratitude. She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
“Thanks,” he murmured. She remained quiet, staring at their hands. He decided to push a little. “Does this bother you?”
“Yes,” she replied softly. “And … not so much.”
Those simple words made his heart jump with excitement,
but he kept that to himself. He didn’t want to spook her again, but the memory of their almost-kiss ran through his head.
“For some reason,” she said carefully, as if choosing her words thoughtfully, “I don’t find your touch revolting. And I’m wondering why.”
“Because we’re friends.”
She blinked and looked up at him through her lashes. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“Of course it is.” He didn’t let go of her hand. “It’s the first stage of trust, Church. You trust me.”
She yanked her hand away. “Maybe.”
He smiled and let her fall back into being prickly and ill-tempered, recognizing it now as her defense mechanism. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
They rose from the table and Darrell went to the cashier to pay for dinner while Church headed outside. He thanked their waitress and followed after her, noticing that she already sat behind the wheel of the truck, although the engine wasn’t turned on. He slid into the passenger seat and adjusted his leg.
“I want to try something,” she said, turning to face him.
“Try what?”
Suddenly, she leaned forward and placed her lips on his, and it stunned him so much he didn’t move. His mind went blank. The only feeling that sluiced through him was shocked surprise, but he was savvy enough to know that she didn’t kiss him for any type of pleasure. She didn’t try to deepen the kiss or touch him anywhere else. So he sat very still and kept his arms down, being as docile as possible, because at that moment, it was all about her. He didn’t know the demons that plagued Church’s psyche, but he was determined to be the person who helped her lay them to rest. When she finally backed away, he stared at her, not saying anything. Waiting for her to make the next move.
“Thank you,” she said, touching her lips.
“You’re welcome.”
“That must have seemed odd.”
He shrugged. “I’m here for whatever you need.”
She nibbled on her lower lip, looking like she had more to say. He waited.
“Would you do something else for me?”
“Of course.” He didn’t even hesitate.