JAX: MC Biker Romance (New Adult Contemporary Bad Boy Romance) (50 page)

“So, here’s the plan,” Lexa said, sipping on her Coke. “We’re going to Joel and my childhood home. There’s a tree out back that his dog, Hank, is buried under.”

I nodded along, trying not to stare at the cleavage peeking out from the hemline of her tanktop.

“We’ll go after dark, sneak over the gate, dig a hole over top of Hank, and pour some of the ash in.”

I quirked an eyebrow at her. “We’re sneaking in?” I asked.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“The great thing about houses,” I said flatly “is that usually, they have front doors. You can knock on them and ask the person inside whether it’s okay for you to dig up their backyard.”

She shook her head. “Do you want to show up on a motorcycle, looking like you do and ask to go dig a hole in their backyard to dump some of my dead brother’s ashes into?”

“Looking like I do?” I questioned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shoved another fry into her mouth while she gestured at me with her free hand. “You know,” she said, chewing, “all rough and what not.”

“Rough,” I repeated, amused. “and what not.”

“Never been a problem for me before,” I purred.

Shit. I had just hit on Joel’s little sister. For a moment, I’d forgotten who she was. She now stared at me across the table, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. I decided to change the topic.

“So, what’s next after the midnight escapade?” I asked.

She shook her head. “State secrets,” she replied. “I’ll let you know once we’re done here.”

“Fine,” I said. “Seems a bit covert for an ash-spreading mission though.”

She shrugged.

After our meal, it was starting to get dark, so we headed out toward the house. At Lexa’s instruction, I parked down the street and we walked the rest of the way. By the time we got there, it was nearly full darkness. The lights in the house were on, spilling radiance out onto the lawn. Lexa frowned as we approached. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“I hope the back’s not as lit up,” she complained. “Have these people ever heard of curtains?”

I chuckled and looked over at her. Damn, she was nearly as tall as me. She must’ve hit some sort of late growth spurt out of high school. I was six-three, so that put her at just under six feet I would’ve guessed. And, with long legs like hers, I doubt anyone ever complained.

“What are you looking at?” she asked. Her tone indicated she was still irritated that the owners of the home didn’t have curtains.

I shook my head. “Just memorizing what you look like, so that I can tell the police who my accomplice was when I get caught later.”

She laughed, leading me down the side street that went behind the house. “Who's to say that you’re going to get caught but I’m not?”

“You’ve got legs that look like they were made for running from the cops,” I replied unthinkingly. I was glad I left off the last bit of what I was going to say; sinful.

She went quiet again, and it made me smile. Trying not to hit on her wasn’t the most fruitful of causes, but who was I kidding? If she weren’t Joel’s kid sister, I would’ve had her up against the backs of one of these houses by now. Even letting out the little bit that I did, I was still holding back an awful lot. And, I was beginning to think she wouldn’t have minded if I gave her my all.

Lexa

In my head, I had started a mantra. It went a little something like this: Don’t sleep with Slade. Don’t sleep with Slade. Don’t sleep with Slade.

The fact that I had to repeat that over and over again in my head is indicative of just how much of an effect he was having on me. Anytime he looked at me, his eyes shot right through me. The feel of his hard and muscular back against my chest as we drove caused me to be hyper-aware of the way he moved and rippled under his clothes. And, his voice—that low, gravelly tone, sent shivers right to my core.

Then, when he made the offhand comments that he sometimes did, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he felt it too. But, I had to remind myself that he was just a guy looking at a tall redhead, and that I was just feeling like this because of a crush I’d once had on him.

Who wouldn’t have had a crush on the guy that came to her high school graduation when her mom bailed? Not to mention he showed up looking all clean-cut and soldiery with his close-cropped hair, and his pressed shirt with his tattoos showing from where he’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.

He was every teenage girl’s forbidden fantasy.

It was beginning to feel like nothing had changed. He was still the super hot bad boy with the motorcycle who was only humoring me because he pitied me, and I was still the awkward, lovestruck kid.

So, I started a mantra to keep myself sane.

We snuck around the back of the house to where the big, white fence bordered the public park that Joel had broken his arm in during the first grade. There was a gate, but it was locked from the other side. Slade took a peek over.

Padlocked.

Guess whoever these people were, they didn’t have kids.

The fence was about six feet tall. After tossing my backpack over, I looked over at Slade. “Give me a boost?” I asked.

He laughed. “You want me to boost you over the fence?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He shook his head with a bemused expression, but put his hands out for me to step onto.

I’d never been particularly athletic. Besides going for the odd run now and then, I didn’t do a lot in terms of exercise. I certainly wasn’t athletic enough to gracefully make it over the fence. That probably showed when I went over the top and toppled onto the other side.

With my face in the grass, I let out a low groan.

“Are you okay?” asked Slade, from the other side.

“Yeah,” I replied.

I picked myself up and, within a moment, he came down on my side, landing in a crouched position. Of course, he would be skilled at jumping over fences.

“It’s that tree there,” I whispered, trying to get over my embarrassment.

He followed my gaze to the willow about twenty feet to our left. I slung my bag back onto my back. We hunched over and kept to the shadows, keeping a watchful eye for any activity from the house. Once under the tree, I pulled off my backpack and searched for the little trowel I’d hidden inside.

Slade’s eyes were glued to the silver urn that I pulled out while I hunted. I had forgotten that he’d never seen it before.

“You okay?” I asked.

He looked at me like I was stupid for even asking. “Of course.”

I dug the first couple of shovelfuls, but as I went to stick the spade in the ground for the third dig, Slade sighed and grabbed it out of my hands. I would have protested, but I didn’t want to cause any sort of ruckus that might give us away.

“How deep do you want it?” he asked in a husky whisper after a few more minutes of digging.

I felt my heart rate zoom before I realized he was asking me how deep I wanted the hole to be. “Uh, about a foot and a half,” I replied.

I saw his lips curve into a smirk. It was obvious what had been on my mind.

When the hole was dug, we took off the lid of the urn and together, carefully poured a third of its contents into the ground. Then, we filled it and slid the clump of grass from the top back into place.

“All done,” Slade said, tapping the earth.

“Should we say something?” I asked. My eyes swam with tears, as the realization that we’d just buried a part of my brother hit me. I knew it was what he would have wanted, but it made it seem so final, so real.

“Let’s save that for the last place,” he said.

For a second, I thought he looked pretty raw too.

Then, the porch light came on, bathing most of the backyard in its glow. Slade roughly grabbed me and shoved me against the tree, pressing his body against mine. I was enveloped with his musky, intoxicating scent. It was salt and dirt and something all his own. God it was good.

A dog raced out into the yard. At first, it didn’t see us, and Slade and I communicated in a look that we were going to wait it out. We tried not to breathe too heavily, but I was having difficulty considering just how much I was enjoying the unexpected contact.

Then, the dog sniffed the air, turned its head, and looked right at us. We bolted just as it began to bark, sending up a flurry of noise into the night. It was only a little dog, and didn’t charge us or anything, but within moments, its owner ran over to the patio to see what was happening.

Slade practically threw me over the fence as a man’s voice called out, “Who are you and what are you doing in my backyard?”

Slade jumped over a second later, then grabbed my hand and wrenched me down the street toward his bike. We ran full-tilt all the way to the side street it was parked on, and he threw me my helmet, climbed on, and then peeled off into the night as soon as I had my arms wrapped around him.

I let out a whoop of laughter as we raced away, and I could feel laughter rumbling through his chest too. We had just done the craziest thing I’d ever done. It felt amazing.

Next, we went in search of somewhere to sleep. We passed three motels, all with their “no vacancy signs” lit. The fourth looked a little out of our price range, (which for me was practically zero), but it didn’t seem we’d have much more of a choice.

“That was amazing,” I said, as I dismounted and pulled my head out of my helmet. “Holy shit, did you see that guy’s face?”

Slade merely smiled and shook his head. “And, people say I’m trouble.”

I gave him a light-hearted jab in the ribs as we walked up toward the manager’s office, feeling a little bit drunk on adventure and perhaps a little careless and friendly. “We’d make a good bank robbing team.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “One trespass and you’re already turning into some kind of Billy the Kid.” My smile dropped when I entered the office. The dusty, old man sitting at the desk looked like an actual nightmare come to life. His sallow face barely turned to acknowledge us when we walked in. What a great place to spend the night.

“Two rooms,” said Slade.

I frowned at him. Did he think I was made of money?

“We’ve only got one room,” replied the man. “Busy week.”

Slade looked over at me, as if seeking my approval. I shrugged. “One room, then,” he said. “Two beds.”

“Only got one room with one bed,” the man replied.

I saw Slade’s jaw tense. The look in his eye caused the man to take a step back.

I put a hand on Slade’s arm. “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re adults, and it's the twenty first century. We can share a king bed without me being spoiled for marriage.”

“It’s a queen,” the man interjected.

Now, we both shot him a glare. “Is there anywhere else in town that will have rooms?” Slade asked lowly. I could tell more than anything else he just hated this guy and didn’t want to give him our business.

The manager shrugged. “Like I said, busy week.” When we continued to stare, he said, “Lavender Festival. People come from all over the state.”

Shit. I had forgotten about the Lavender Festival. Slade turned his head to me, glaring. I smiled meekly. “I forgot.”

Slade turned back to the man. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll take the room.”

“How many nights?” the man asked, writing something down.

“Two,” I replied.

Slade gave me a look, but didn’t say anything else, as we filled out the paperwork and paid. I protested against him paying for the whole thing, but he simply waved me off. We headed up to our room after grabbing Slade’s stuff from his bike, and when he flicked on the light, I nearly cringed.

Yeah, it wasn’t as cheap as the other cheap motels, but it wasn’t winning any awards. And, the bed seemed oddly small. Surely, it couldn't have been a queen.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Slade said gruffly, dropping his bag onto the aforementioned couch.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, laughing. The couch was probably only half as long as Slade, and looked less comfortable than sleeping on his bike would have been.

He slid off his jacket and dropped it onto the couch as I walked over to the bed. “You want me on the bed, Ginger?” he asked, a licentious grin creeping up my face.

Damn. It was suddenly very hot in there.

“I just don’t want you to be all cranky tomorrow when your back is all fucked up,” I retorted. “Or, if you break a hip from falling off of it.”

Bringing up his age was a mistake; I knew that the moment the words came out of my mouth. He strode toward me, skewering me with his green gaze. I felt heat rise to my face as he stopped inches from me, his face tilted down toward mine. I had to keep my eyes on his. It took great effort, considering they wanted to roam over his strong jaw and long, straight nose.

“What was that?” he asked smoothly. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

I gulped, my mouth suddenly dry. “I uh—”

“You, uh?”

“I just think you’d be more comfortable on the bed,” I squeaked. I could smell him again, feel the heat radiating off of him. It was too much.