Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3) (4 page)

“Where the hell have you been?” Dready opened the cover on the espresso I’d gotten him. “Fucking coffee’s cold now. You suck, you know that? You get me addicted to this pricey shit, you insist on going to get it, and then you disappear and bring it cold.”

“Had shit to do.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

I ripped my sunglasses off my face. “Fuck you. Go nuke it.”

“
YOUR TIRES ARE REALLY WORN OUT, JILL
.” Tricky glanced at me, his lips pressed together. “Good thing you brought it in today because, I’m telling you, looks like the left rear was ready to split. And your transmission…” He wiped at the thick mass of dark hair that had fallen over his eyes.

My ancient Honda looked old and tired next to the shiny hot rods being polished in the huge courtyard of the One-Eyed Jacks’ repair and custom-detailing shop, Eagle Wings. Just beyond was the old go-kart track that was now used to test out bikes and cars. Lock was there with Travis, an Army buddy of his, not a member of the club, who was his hot rod specialist, their tall figures looming over the open hood of a freshly painted red muscle car gleaming in the sunlight.

Becca pulled on my hand, wanting to trot off into the bays where the men were working.

“I know, Tricky. I should’ve come in sooner. I just kept putting it off and I’ve been using Rae’s car mostly and I forgot. Today, I could feel the difference once I got on the road, so I came right over. I didn’t want to take any chances, especially with Becca in the car with me.”

He wiped his hands on a rag hanging from his belt. “I’m gonna put in the order for the tires, and I’ll give you a buzz tomorrow morning to let you know when I’ll be ready to start, all right?”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Could you give me an idea of how much this is going to cost, so I can plan on—”

“No charge,” said a deep voice behind me.

I swiveled around. Boner’s green eyes swept over me, the muscle along his jaw pulsing.

“Oh, hey. You don’t have to do that.”

“We don’t
have
to”—Tricky winked at me—“but that’s the way it is. Gimme your keys.”

I handed him my keys, and he opened the door, unhooked Becca’s car seat, and planted it on the ground. He started my car and steered her to the side lot.

“You okay?” asked Boner.

No, not really—not with your tall, dark, bearded, long-haired magnificence studying me in that unrepentant way of yours.

Becca stilled beside me, her gaze glued on Boner.
Like mother, like daughter.

“I’m great.”

“That didn’t convince me, Jill.”

“Just haven’t had my car looked at in a while, and it definitely needed a service check and new tires, as you heard.”

Becca broke free of my loose grasp and lunged at Boner. “Ya! Hi. Hi.” She embraced his legs.

“Hi, you.” Boner’s severe face broke into a grin, and he tousled her light-brown hair. “You keep growing, don’t you?” He squatted down next to her. “Last time I saw you, you were this big!” He showed her an inch of space between his thumb and forefinger.

Becca’s face lit up, and she grabbed at his thumb. “This big! This!” she stuttered.

Boner grinned and took her hand in his, and Becca swung their hands wide.

His green gaze fell on me. “You need a ride somewhere?”

Becca jumped up and down next to him, bringing his hand to her mouth.

There was no getting out of this now.

I adjusted the handle of my handbag on my shoulder. “A ride would be good.”

“You heading home, or you got a doctor’s appointment or something?”

“No doctor today. Thank God. I have to say, I see a lot of doctors these days between Rae’s therapists, Becca’s pediatrician, and my OB/GYN.”

His face scrunched for a moment. Yep, there I was, babbling in his presence like some sort of infatuated teenager.

I was an infatuated teenager when it came to him.

Becca pinched his skin just over his wrist on the same spot where his tattoo of an angry snake slithered down his arm, baring its vicious eyes and long fangs.

My gaze followed the snake up his long arm to the black muscle shirt with the eagle logo of the club repair shop printed in red. His contoured shoulders and bare sinewy arms were taut as they held my daughter. His skin had a golden sheen to it from working outside and riding in the sun. His lean hips were cocked to the side, and his long legs were fitted in faded ripped blue jeans ending in black work boots. Although Boner was perhaps the least bulky of his brothers, he was muscular in a leaner, trimmer way than the obvious rounded bulk of Bear and Dready, two of the tallest and largest Club members, and Travis. Boner’s muscles were perfectly proportioned to his frame. There was nothing overdone about him.

Well, except for that eerie stillness with which he looked at me, watched me, as if he were trying to burrow into my deeply held secrets. Yes, there was something out of balance about that.

But now, holding Becca’s hand, he was relaxed, easygoing.
I guess he reserves the strange for me.
Who could blame him, after the intense start we’d had years ago?

I cleared my throat. “What I mean is, a day without a doctor visit for me is a really, really good day.”

His lips twitched, and his cheekbones seemed to get more pronounced with that sudden swerve of his lips. “Right. I get that.”

He lifted a hand, gesturing at my tummy. “You and the baby doing good?”

I took in a breath. “Yeah, I’m almost done with the second month, heading into the third.”

His brows pulled together. “You puking every morning?”

I laughed.

Boner usually said what was on his mind and the way it was on his mind. It was refreshing.

“Actually, today, I didn’t, which is pretty exciting. Although, I probably will later on today.” I shrugged.

His gaze fell on me, and I straightened my posture under its weight.

“It’s a real gift—what you’re doing for Grace and Lock.”

“I’m glad it all worked out. It’s a gift for me, too.”

We both averted our gazes.

“Well, my bike’s out, obviously.” He gestured toward his black chopper glinting in the afternoon sun.

My pulse spiked at the sight.

Thank God
. Just the thought of getting on the back of his glorious self-styled chopper made my knees weak. It was a real signature piece with specially designed, by Lock, paint–detailing on his black gas tank of a red snake bursting forth from silver puffs of smoke.

I hadn’t been on the back of a bike since I left Catch in Nebraska, and I missed it. I missed the exhilaration of the ride. I missed the thrill of hanging on to my man while I enjoyed that exhilaration of wind, speed, and metallic roar.

What I didn’t miss, however, was clinging to a man I no longer trusted or had deep feelings for.

My gaze landed back on Boner. His eyes were on me, waiting for my response.

No, he wasn’t Catch, nothing like him, and it sure wasn’t the age difference either. Catch was the all-American boy next door gone bad—reckless, daredevil, seedy. Boner was the sage enigmatic phantom who visited you only in the shadows of the night.

His long-lashed extraordinary green eyes pierced me, and I felt that unique rush in my veins, leaving me breathless.

I cleared my throat. “Yep, the bike’s definitely out. Unless you have one with a seat for Becca—”

He laughed. “My truck’s over there.” He turned back toward the open bays of the repair shop. “Yo, Trick! I’m heading out, giving Jill a ride.”

Tricky raised a hand at us.

“Let’s go.” Boner handed me Becca and snatched up her car seat. He tracked toward his pickup, his long hair swinging over his shoulders in the hot breeze.

We set up Becca’s car seat in the cab, belted her in, and climbed into his GMC.

He pulled out of the clubhouse property. “You need anything?”

I let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Everyone asks me that all the time.”

He shot me a quirky no-shit grin. “That’s good, right?” His attention went back to the road.

I took in a slight breath to deal with that smile and that tone of voice. That casual, comfortable of-course-you’re-one-of-us-now attitude made a small part of me warm inside.

He was right. It was good. It made me feel like I belonged, was important to somebody—or several somebodies actually—after so many years of straggling, struggling, and drifting from one job to the next, one idea to the next, one set of pals to the next.
But this was only for a little while, wasn’t it?
Until the baby was born. I’d always be connected to Rae and Tania because Becca was their blood, but how much of a real family member
I
was to them, I wasn’t so sure. I was just the former girlfriend of Rae’s son and Tania’s brother.

My hand pulled at the seat belt over my tummy. “It’s good for the baby, of course.”

“Not just for the baby,” he said, his eyes flashing at me.

“Well, yeah, okay, but I mean—”

“Not just for the baby,” he said again, easing on the brakes at a red light on Clay Street in the middle of town.

My breath caught at his insistent, tenacious stare.

His head tilted. “Tell me you get that.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Good.” His attention shot to the green traffic light. “So, you need to hit the supermarket?”

“Oh. It’s okay.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried, Jill. I want to help you. Do you need to hit the supermarket?”

“I’ll grab Rae’s car and go myself later. It’s fine.”

“Jill, where were you headed before you came by the club?”

My face heated. “To the supermarket,” I mumbled.

“Right. Which one do you go to? Tibbet’s or Safeway?”

“Boner, really, it’s fine. You don’t have to—”

“You got to do a full shop or grab a couple of things?”

“It’s okay, really. Just take us home.”

“Full shop,” he said.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Sweetheart, I bet you’ve been taking care of it on your own for a long time. Now, which supermarket is it gonna be?”

I sank back in my seat.

“Jill, baby, come on.” His voice softened.

My stomach curled, and I glanced at him. “Safeway, please. They’re having a sale on Becca’s diapers this week.”

“Safeway, it is.” He licked his lower lip as he hit the left turn signal at the stop sign to take us to the main road to the store on the outskirts of town. “That wasn’t too hard now, was it?”

“What?”

His eyes slid to mine, an eyebrow raised. “Telling me what you want.”

I squirmed in my seat, my hand squeezing the seat belt across my chest. “Not too hard.”

He let out a laugh. “Liar.”

What was hard was being in a closed space with him. His scent was so interesting. It was spicy but earthy and mellow all at the same time. I cast a quick glance at him. The relaxed way he drove, one arm slung on the wheel, his long legs stretched before him, his other hand draped over the center console—it was downright sexy. All I wanted to do was stare at his profile and run my fingers through his long hair to finally know what it felt like. Just that—a touch—and I’d be happy. Maybe I should try bumping into him on purpose at some point. Then, my hands could get caught in his fantastic mane, and he’d grab me—

Shut up, Jill.

All this one-on-one attention from him was making my tummy do flip-flops in addition to the flip-flops it’d already been doing as I settled into the first trimester of pregnancy. Usually, Boner and I were in the company of others, never alone. Either at Rae’s house, when he’d stop by with Grace, or at the club, if I’d stop by to meet up with Grace. I’d seen him in town many times, but I’d usually duck out, not wanting to bump into him.

I trained my gaze outside the window.
Get a grip. Get a grip.

At the supermarket, he took Becca from my arms, fit her in the child’s seat and took charge of the shopping cart. “You got a list, or we winging it?”

I waved the piece of scrap paper in my hand. “A list.”

“Of course you do.”

“Why, of course?” I asked as we strolled down the pasta aisle.

“I figured, with you having Becca, you living in a new town, being pregnant, taking care of Rae and her house, and it being just over two months in, and you’re still walking and talking
with
a smile on your face, then you must be organized with a capital O.”