Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3) (7 page)

As she ate her brownie and sipped her chai, the windows of the shop vibrated as a deafening roar ripped through the calmness of the coffee shop.

“What the hell?” Addie said.

Suzy laughed. “I bet it’s one of those souped-up motorcycles the guys around here ride.”

“A motorcycle can make that much noise?” Addie turned around to face Suzy who was wiping down some of the nearby tables.

“Oh, sure.” She laughed gleefully, pointing her finger toward the street. “I was right. It
is
a custom bike. It’s a beauty.”

Addie looked out the window and saw Jack jump off the big, gleaming motorcycle. His dad, dressed in tight blue jeans, black boots with silver buckles, and a sleeveless black muscle shirt which showed off all his ripped muscles, helped Jack with his helmet. “Yes,
he
is a beauty.” Addie sighed.

“I’m talking ’bout the Harley. I have a thing for them. You like them, too?” Suzy continued to look across the street.

“I’m beginning to,” Addie replied.
I definitely like the stud riding the Harley. I wonder if that counts.

“I’ll bet he’s an Insurgent,” Suzy said.

“He is.”

“I figured he was a member of the biker club. This is their territory and national headquarters. They have the coolest Harleys.”

“Do they do group things like riding together and holiday parties?”

Suzy busted out laughing. “They have parties, but not the type you’re thinking of. I’m not an expert, but I’ve heard they have some badass, wild parties. They’re not a club in the way you’re thinking. They’re outlaws.”

Addie’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, like criminals the police are looking for.”

“Something like that. They’re more like rebels. They don’t socialize with us, and we don’t socialize with them. They have their own set of rules and lifestyle. I dunno, they’re just badass, and I wouldn’t want to meet up with any of them or piss them off. I’ve heard they can be bad news, you know?”

“Really? That motorcycle belongs to one of my students’ father. I guess I better not piss him off, huh?”

Suzy smiled. “I wouldn’t.”

As Addie pushed her iron chair back, it scraped on the tiled floor. Standing up, she slurped the last bit of chai from her straw, wiped her hands with a sanitizer she always carried in her purse, reapplied her burnt-orange lipstick, and thanked Suzy as she dashed out the door.

Why did she indulge in gossip when she knew Jack had arrived and was in the library waiting for her? Breathless, she flung open the library’s front door, tripping over the metal threshold. As if in slow motion, she saw her purse fly out of her hand, its contents spilling out, the ground coming closer and closer to her face. Expecting to slam down on the floor, she braced herself when two strong arms caught and smashed her against a solid wall, crushing her face as she gasped for air.

Arching back, she looked straight into a ripped chest covered in black cotton fabric. Raising her eyes upward, Chas’s half-grin greeted her. With burning cheeks, she smoothed down her tousled hair as she attempted to gain a modicum of composure.

Jack ran around collecting items that had scattered from her purse when it hit the ground.

“I think I got most of your stuff, Ms. O’Leary,” he said as he handed over her purse.

“Uh, thank you, Jack. Thank you very much.” She clasped his shoulder and squeezed it lightly as she took her purse.

“Since I’m all grown up, can I get a hug rather than a pat on the shoulder for helping you out?” Chas asked in a low voice.

“Uh… no… I mean… thank you. Thank you for catching me before I had a nasty fall.”

Smiling, he said, “You’re welcome, and you can fall into me anytime.”

As she glanced at his dark eyes, they twinkled with amusement. Lowering her gaze, Addie took in the dancing ink on his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. Checking out his tattoos, a large skull with tears of blood on his left bicep sucked her in—the skull’s eyes were bright blue and looked real. It was like everything had decomposed except for the eyes. The bright red teardrops made the tat creepy, yet fascinating. Running her eyes over his crossed arms, she noticed tribal designs decorating his right shoulder, several smaller tats filling his left arm. Moving her gaze to his chest, some ink crept up from under his tight t-shirt, but she couldn’t make out what it was. For a split-second, she wondered what other parts of his body held ink pictures, and a craving to trace his tats with the tip of her tongue seized her so fiercely she gasped aloud.

He leaned closer to her so he almost pressed against her body. “Like what you see, teach? I love you liking it.” His deep, throaty chuckle rumbled in her ears.

Backing away, she yanked her head sideways, saying, “Jack, bring your books and let’s go to the reading room by the aquarium.” With her stomach lurching, she moved away from Chas, practically running to the room just so she could be far from him—he was a dangerous distraction.

Before she closed the room’s door, she turned to Chas and told him, “You can come back in an hour. There’s a great coffee house right across the street.”

Settling in a low, leather-cushioned chair opposite the glass-walled reading room, Chas said, “Thanks, but I’m good here.” He crossed one muscular leg over his thigh and feasted his eyes on her, his eyes twinkling as she glanced quickly at him, turned away then glanced again, all the while combing her fingers through her hair.

“Do you want me to start on the third chapter, Ms. O’Leary?” Jack’s small voice asked.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Yes, that’ll be perfect, Jack.”
Why do I let Jack’s dad get to me like this? He’s doing this shit on purpose because he knows it makes me uncomfortable. Bastard.

For one hour, Chas sat cross-legged, hand under his chin, dark eyes piercing a hole through Addie. By the time Jack proudly read the last sentence in chapter four, Addie was a drenched bundle of nerves. How could she help Jack if his dad penetrated her with his smoldering black eyes? All future lessons would have to be conducted in her office, the one with the
solid
walls. And to make sure Chas couldn’t play his mind games, she’d shut the door. Why she was so taken with this tall, rough biker, she had no idea, but she had to nip all this nonsense in the bud, especially since Jack deserved her undivided attention.

Jack ran over to his dad and grabbed his hand. “I’m all done. I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

Chas laughed, stood, and picked his boy up, hugging him tightly, his eyes brimming with love.

“Aw, Dad, I’m too big,” Jack said, but his shining eyes told Addie he loved every minute of being in his dad’s arms.

Again, Addie was touched by Chas’s gentleness, and the attention he gave his son. The way his big hands mussed up Jack’s hair or hugged him, made her heart lurch. When she saw the father-son interactions, it reminded her of her parents, and the ache, which was always buried in her heart, rose to the surface, her longing for them intense.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Jack. You don’t have to come to the group session tomorrow because your school is having an event. Remember to practice your sounds like I taught you. I gave you the recording, so keep going over it until Thursday, okay?”

“Uh-huh. Let’s go eat now, Dad.” Jack skipped away toward the front doors.

Addie laughed and went back in her office. As she rummaged through a stack of books on the floor, spiced cologne wafted around her. She jerked up then spun around, her gaze landing on Chas as he stood in her office, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Did Jack forget something?” she asked.

“No, I did.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been a bad boy, Ms. O’Leary. I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look and to give you this.” Before she could react, he had her in his arms, his hand on the side of her head, gently pushing her hair back. Then his mouth was on hers, tender and amazing. Chas pulled away, his top lip barely grazing against hers. Breathing loudly, he released her. His heated gaze lingered on her lips before he caressed his fingers over her cheek, and walked out. “See you Thursday, Ms. O’Leary,” he said over his shoulder as he sauntered away.

Addie, frozen in place, touched her bottom lip. Her mind reeled, and her heart slowed down and skipped at the same time. Joy bubbled through her, even though her muscles twitched and her stomach twisted. It was like she was happy and nervous at the same time; like she was out of control, but totally content with it.
Oh, fuck, am I in big trouble.

Walking over to the window, she saw Jack secured on the motorcycle. The sun dipped lower over the mountains, and Chas, taking a leather jacket from the seat, shrugged it on. The Insurgents’ skull logo grinned menacingly at her. Icy fingers seized her stomach and her bad-news radar went off the charts. All the joyful, fizzy bubbles inside her were popped by one word—Insurgents. There was no way she could be mixed up with an outlaw. She had already fled from a criminal in Chicago two years back, and she had no intention of having any involvement with another one.

Watching Chas ride off, she wondered how someone who treated his son with so much love and whose lips kissed her so tenderly, could be an outlaw. Replaying his gentle caress on her face, she shivered as she realized that same hand had probably killed and maimed people. She had to erase the one-percenter out of her mind and off her lips.

Why the hell am I sucker for bad boys?

Damn!

H
er phone ringing
startled Addie out of her thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Is Addie there?” a male voice asked.

“Speaking.”

“Hi, Addie, this is Matt from The Idle Hour bookstore. Your copy of
The Nightingale
has just come in on a reorder for the store. I just wanted to let you know. I can put it on a two-day hold.”

“No, I’ll stop by and pick it up. What time do you close?”

“We close in thirty minutes, but I can stay longer if you can’t make it before then.”

“I’m leaving early tonight, so I should be able to make it. I’ll see you soon.”

Addie smiled. The Idle Hour was her favorite bookstore. The owner, Matt, stocked his store with the usual bestsellers, but the nooks and crannies were filled with gems for the avid reader: out-of-print books, foreign authors, independent authors, and local writers. Addie had spent many hours and dollars at her favorite shop. Whenever a book she ordered came in, her body quivered in anticipation, and she never lost the thrill of sitting down on her couch, new book in hand, and reading the first sentence. The excitement hit her each and every time.

Her mood substantially lifted, Addie hummed to herself as she cleared off her desk and locked her office door. Pausing at the main counter, Addie flashed a quick grin to Margaret. “I’m beat. Are you okay closing up alone?” Addie looked around the near-empty library.

“Of course, dear. Go on.” Margaret patted Addie’s hand.

“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” Addie strode out the door, welcoming the chilly evening air, as she headed to her car.

Parking in front of the book shop, Addie pulled down the visor mirror and dabbed on peach shimmer lip gloss, then finger-combed her hair quickly before exiting her car. The minute she entered the store, the undefinable mix of paper and ink, which gave a book its aroma, along with an earthy, slightly sweet smell with a hint of must, greeted her, bringing her straight back to her childhood memories of long summer days spent reading on the porch.

“Hi, Addie,” Matt greeted with a wide smile and sparkling brown eyes.

“Hi.” Addie’s focus went to the center table piled with volumes of short stories from different writers around the world. “You set up a new display.”

“Yeah. I took your advice and showcased some of the unique voices in the literary world, and it’s been a hit. Pick out any book you want. It’s yours.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Addie said as she ran her fingers over the covers of the newly printed selections.

“I want to as a way of saying thanks for your suggestions and your business.”

“I love my Kindle, but I still prefer the feel and smell of printed books. I’ve been hopelessly hooked since my first nursery rhyme.”

“Lucky for me. And I mean that in more than one way.”

Pressing her lips together, Addie looked down at the selection of books on the table.
Damn, it must be my new perfume. I seem to be on a roll today.

After fifteen minutes, Addie came up to the counter and handed the book
Unaccustomed Earth
to Matt.

“Great choice. You’re going to love this one. Have you read anything from Jhumpa Lahiri?”

“No, but I’ve been wanting to. I’m on this kick right now where I’m trying to read authors from outside the US. I love short stories, and I’ve read a ton of American writers. Anyway, it’s been fun. I’m happy you carry these types of books because they’re not so easy to find.”

“I aim to please.” Matt’s gaze skimmed over her.

“So, how much do I owe you?” Addie wanted to shift the direction the conversation had taken.

“For your ordered book, it’ll be fifteen dollars and thirty-two cents.”

After putting her change in her coin purse, Addie took her package and thanked Matt.

“Do you want to grab a bite to eat?” Matt asked as she began to leave.

Addie stopped in her tracks and stood there without answering.

Matt looked at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry, am I stepping out of line?”

“Uh… no. It’s just that I’m so busy right now with everything in my life. You know.”

“You have to eat, right? Anyway, I’m asking you to have dinner with me, not to run off with me.” His brown eyes twinkled.

As her face blushed a reddish-pink, Addie looked at Matt. At five-foot-seven, he wasn’t very tall, but his clean-cut appearance more than made up for his height. Without a tattoo in sight, short brown hair, and a winning smile, Matt was the epitome of “the boy next door,” and, if she wanted to be involved with anyone, Matt was the logical choice.

“Well, do you want to have Italian?” he asked.

She clutched her book bag against her chest. After all, she
did
have to eat, and Italian food sounded wonderful. It’d be nice to be out with a man again. Up until she met Jack’s dad, her dealings with men were run-of-the-mill. Since her encounters with Chas were so intense, it’d be nice to have a low-key evening with a nice guy, for a change. She knew they’d have one thing in common—love of books. And she didn’t have any friends her own age in Pinewood Springs because she shied away from forming any attachments due to her life’s circumstances. It’d be wonderful to throw a kink into her usual routine: go home after work, change her clothes, pour a glass of wine, eat dinner, read, and go to bed.