Move the Sun (Signal Bend Series) (6 page)

Yeah, the tongues would be wagging this Sunday after church. And everywhere, every minute, from now until then. Oh, well. Been awhile since the gossips had something good to chew on.

He dismounted and put his helmet on the handlebars, then walked over and opened the Camaro’s door for Lilli. She gave him a surprised smile and stepped out. Similar getup as yesterday: same low-heeled black boots, slim, low-waisted jeans, simple t-shirt—yellow today—that left just the slimmest bit of belly showing. An extremely distracting slimmest bit of firm, flat belly. No jacket; too hot for that. Aviator-style Ray-Ban sunglasses. She didn’t seem to carry a purse. He added that simple fact to the growing list of fucking sexy things about her. Women with big purses freaked him out. What the fuck was so important they had to carry a damn suitcase with them everywhere they went?

Her hair was caught back in a ponytail again.
It was long and thick, a rich dark brown, with just a hint of red in the sun. She did this fussy little thing with the ponytail, wrapping a lock of hair around it, tucking the end in. He’d watched her do it this morning. It was fussy, but he liked it. He didn’t know why.

That was absolutely the only fussy thing she’d done. She wore no makeup or scent—and he would have protested if she’d gone to cover up the way she smelled naturally. Today, she wore no jewelry but the big silver rings, and he was beginning to think those, like his own rings, were more practical than ornamental. She’d done some real damage to Meg’s throat last night.

He almost took her hand to escort her into Marie’s but thought better of it, and instead put his hand on her back, bringing her gently forward to walk in front of him. When the bell over the door jingled to announce their entry, the ten other people in the diner—six customers, two waitresses (including Marie), and, peering over the service area from the kitchen, Dave (her husband and the cook) and Evan, the dishwasher—every one of them turned to see who it was and then stopped to gape. Gotta love the small town life.

Lilli, to her credit, seemed unfazed. She smiled and nodded at whomever met her eyes. He led her to his usual booth; they passed the Sullivans on the way. Jimmy’s three nail-less fingers were thickly bandaged, and his arm was in a cast. Havoc had driven them both to the urgent care center in
Cuba and had seen to it that they told the right story about their injuries. From the look of Meg, though, her injuries didn’t really get started until Havoc got them back home. Jimmy was right handed, but he’d obviously overcome that to beat the shit out of his wife with his left. Isaac felt bad for her, and pissed at Jimmy, but it was hardly the first time Meg had walked around town with bruises on her face. Like a lot of women in this part of the world, she was well acquainted with the feel of her man’s knuckles on her skin.

Besides, one of those bruises was Isaac’s. She’d come by that one honestly, but he didn’t relish hitting women. He didn’t give them a pass when they came at him, but he took no pleasure in it, as he had breaking Ed
Foss’s nose last night. That had been satisfying. Backhanding Meg had been expedient.

Marie came over before their asses had fully settled on the seats. She turned the coffee cups over and poured for both of them.

“Hey, Ike.” Fuck, he hated that. No matter how much influence he’d earned in this town, he’d not been able to get that name off people’s lips. He supposed he should be glad they’d finally dropped the “Little,” but that had taken his father’s death, even though he’d dwarfed the old man by a good six inches and sixty pounds.

Lilli had pulled a menu from behind the napkin dispenser and was perusing the options. It wasn’t often that people read the menu; almost everybody who ate here was a regular and had long ago memorized the offerings, which hadn’t changed, except for the seasonal flavors of
pies and fresh jams, since the day they’d opened.

“Hey, Marie. This is Lilli. Lilli, meet Marie, the best baker in five counties.”

Lilli smiled at her, and Marie smiled warmly back. “Only five? Must be losin’ my edge. What can I get ya, sugar?”

Reading the menu, Lilli ordered. “I’ll have the waffles and eggs—sunny-side up.”

Marie didn’t bother to write the order down. “What meat you want—sausage links, bacon, or ham?”

“Bacon—oh, and can I get fruit instead of the hash browns?”

Isaac dropped his head to hide the smirk he couldn’t control. Marie gave her a look. “Comes with hash browns, not fruit.”

Lilli cocked her head. “Um, okay. Well, how about hold the hash browns and I’ll have fruit extra?”

Okay, he should probably help her out, but he was enjoying it far too much. Marie put her hand on her hip. “It
comes
. With
hash browns
. And unless you want a piece of fruit pie or some orange juice, fruit’s not on the menu.”

Lilli blinked, and Isaac took pity on her. “You got the order, Marie. Thanks, hon.”

Clearly vexed, Marie nodded at him and went back to the counter. Then Isaac laughed. He tossed his head back, put his hand on his belly and guffawed. Lilli was just as obviously annoyed as Marie.

“What the fuck was that?”

“You don’t order off the menu at a place like this, Sport. You’d think a country girl from Texas would know that.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Austin’s not country. And I hate potatoes. I can’t even stand to smell them.”

“Nobody hates potatoes.”

“Just told you I did.”

“Well, it’s weird.”

By way of response, s
he sat back, her arms crossed, and he conceded the point with a shrug. He watched as she poured three creamers and the sugar from three packets into her coffee. That was barely coffee anymore—why the hell even bother? He took a sip of his, black and strong. Then he just watched her. The sun was streaming in through the front window and slanting across her, giving her hair a reddish gleam and making her grey eyes sparkle. He shifted in the booth as his cock filled out a little and caught the seam in his jeans. He had half a mind to bail on the day and take her back to her bare mattress.

“How’d you know there wasn’t trouble?”

Coming out of his increasingly sexual reverie, he shook his head. “Huh?”

She sipped that sweet confection in her cup and gave him a curious look. “You said you were worried there was trouble when you saw my car but not me. But you were all relaxed, leaning back on my deck steps when I got back from my run. How’d you know there wasn’t trouble?”

Because he’d gotten a call from CJ that he’d ridden past her running down the road in her little top and littler shorts. She’d attracted a great deal of attention this morning. She’d attracted attention last night, too. People were interested. And now they were eating together. Again, actually. He rolled his eyes. Town gossips would have them engaged by Saturday.

“Got a call from a brother who saw you on the road. Lots of people saw you, Sport. You might want to cover up some if you’re gonna run all over town. You’ll give the gossips tongue hernias or somethin’.”

Marie brought their breakfasts—waffles, eggs up, and bacon for Lilli, and his usual order of steak, eggs over easy, and biscuits. Hash browns all around. He saw Lilli make a face at them on her plate. He hoped Marie hadn’t seen as she refilled their coffees.

Isaac winked at Marie. “Thanks, hon. You mind leaving the pot?” He needed to fucking mainline the coffee today.
His days of pulling all-nighters with impunity were behind him.

Marie set the pot on the table. “You bet, Ike. Let me know if you need anything else.”

As soon as Marie walked away from their booth, Lilli started pushing the hash browns away from the rest of her breakfast, as if they were a contaminant. Isaac thought it was cute as hell, and he sat and watched her. She looked up, and he smiled and held her eyes for a second.

Dropping her gaze to his plate, she gestured with her fork. “I didn’t think you ordered.”

“Marie knows my order.”

“You have the same thing every day?” She grinned at him like that was the craziest thing she’d heard today.

He just shrugged. A girl who didn’t like potatoes didn’t get to judge anybody’s food quirks. “How’s your breakfast?”

She had a mouthful of waffles. “Really good, ‘cept for the hash browns.”

He rolled his eyes at her. She was fucking cute.

oOo~

By the time they’d finished their breakfast and were on their way out, the diner had filled just about full, and every eye on the damn place was on them. They had to run the gamut, greeting everyone. He introduced her as Lilli Carson, who’d just moved in to the Olsens’ old place. Lilli was gracious and beautiful, but he could see that she was uncomfortable. So was he. They were being thrown together in a way he hadn’t calculated, and they still hadn’t known each other for even one day.

When they got out of the diner, Lilli turned to him, sliding her sunglasses back on, and said, “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see ya,” and walked quickly to her car. He almost let her go—they had an audience. He didn’t need to turn back to the diner to know he’d see a window full of faces. Anything he did to say goodbye to her in a way appropriate to the morning they’d spent together would further heat up fevered town fantasies.

But he didn’t want to leave it that way. Besides, he needed to keep her close. There were things he needed to learn about her. Couldn’t have her sneaking up on him. So let the town tongues wag. Fuck—give them something to wag about. He caught up with her in four long strides, just as she was reaching for the door handle. Déjà vu. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and, with his other hand on her shoulder, pushed her against the car.

“Where you goin’ so fast?”

She nodded toward the diner. “We have an audience, and I have shit to do. But thanks, really. It’s been a good time.”

He slid his knee between her legs and moved his hand from her shoulder to her neck. “Told ya we’d have fun together. Don’t think I’m done with you yet, Sport.”

She smiled, just a little upturning at the corners of her sweet mouth. “Might be done with you.”

“Are you?”

She looked up at him, that little smile still lifting the corners of her mouth. He pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head so he could see her bright eyes. She hadn’t answered. “So, are you?”

By way of reply, she hooked her hand in the open throat of his shirt and pulled him down. When his lips touched hers, she opened her mouth wide to him. She was so damn hot. Forgetting the audience, forgetting the secrets, even forgetting the bullshit he was going to have to spend the rest of his day dealing with, he leaned his weight into her, letting her feel how incredibly turned on she made him, and kissed her like he was ready to have her right there, standing in the gravel lot of Marie’s, the cross on the steeple of St. John’s Methodist Church making a shadow over them. Because he was. They made out much longer, and he might well do it.

With a frustrated growl, he pulled away. “You get to your errands. I’ll see you. Soon, I think.” He smiled and leaned down again, trying on the sound of her name as a whisper in her ear. “Lilli.”

She cocked her head and gave him an appraising look. Then she pushed away from the car, got in, and drove away.

Isaac went to his bike without even bothering to look back at Marie’s.

~oOo~

Bart was sitting at the bar with two laptops open. The clubhouse had a powerful satellite dish, so internet was not a problem there. Neither was TV. They had a huge sest on the wall and threw open the doors to the town for sports events. The big fights and races. Football. Baseball. Hockey. A lot of people were fans of some or all of the St. Louis teams, and they came to the clubhouse to watch and drink free booze. Just another public service of the Night Horde MC.

Isaac walked up and put his hand on Bart’s shoulder.
The youngest member, he was their intelligence officer. Very handy, scary smart, and a serious gadget geek. From what Isaac could tell—and he knew his way around a computer okay—Bart was a gifted hacker. He’d not yet encountered intel he couldn’t get his hands on. So Isaac was concerned to see that he looked stressed out.

Part of that might be the six empty Red Bull cans on the bar. Bart was a big guy—
nowhere near as big as Isaac, but six feet, probably 200 pounds, mostly muscle—but six Red Bulls was a shit ton of caffeine.

“Tell me, bro. What’s the deal?”

Bart raked his hands over his dusky blond crew cut. He spoke quickly, his voice shaking. He was practically tweaking on caffeine. “This wall is military grade, Isaac. Fuck, it’s practically weaponized. I’m worried that I’m gonna get tagged poking around too much more. I’m in full stealth mode, but I feel like I’m leaving a little bit more of my ass hanging out every time I go at that fucker. I don’t get it. If she’s got a secret that needs this kind of security, why did she put a fucking neon sign on top of it? Took me three minutes to find out her history is faked. I been at this wall fourteen hours straight, and I’m nowhere. No. Where. She just does not exist before three months ago.”

That was certainly interesting news. Made Lilli a lot more dangerous. “It’s okay, man. Pull back. Get some rest. I’ll find what we need to know another way. No sense pushing our luck here. Who the fuck knows who’s guarding her story.”