Down to my Bones (Reapers MC: Ellsberg Chapter Book 1) Page 5

“Why don’t you kill him and make it look like a suicide?”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” Miranda says, snickering. “Should you really tell me to kill one of your club brothers?”

  “I don’t know Jim-Bean or his fuckwit son, and I’m trying to win my way into your heart. If suggesting his murder gets me closer to you, who’s going to care?”

  “Jim-Bean probably will. I should text him to say you’re plotting against his kid.”

  “I dare you to do just that.”

  Miranda’s sudden laughter kills me. Her face lights up in the most magnificent way while fiddling with her phone. “I don’t want you getting in trouble. Pop wasn’t happy last night. Not even after I told him you saved me from those foul-mouthed hillbillies.”

  “You told him that, huh?”

  Miranda nods before gulping her soda. “When you’re done living in a tent, do you plan to live in a house? Or will you work your way into a house by starting with something smaller like a dumpster?”

  I can’t tell if her question is serious or not. This likely explains why I laugh so hard. Miranda grins at my reaction and moves to a rock seat closer to me.

  “I want to understand what you’re like when you’re not here,” she says. “Go back to Shasta, and I’ll visit you.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not psychic, but I sense you’re not the kind of person who does well when put in an uncomfortable situation.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Do you like living in the RV?”

  “Yes. It’s my practice home until I’m ready to have a place more separate from Mom and Pop.”

  “What place are you thinking?”

  “I plan to live in a yurt.”

  Grinning, I fight the urge to kiss her whenever she says something odd. “Baby girl, it’s like you’re not even speaking English.”

  “It’s a circular house,” she says, retrieving her phone from her bag. “It’s like one room, completely open. You can add inside walls, but I don’t want them.”

  I study her pictures of the yurt, trying to imagine living in something so wrong when compared to the norm. The inside open design suits me, and I spend a whole lot of time outside anyway.

  “What’s something like that cost?”

  “If I keep it simple, I could probably be happy for something under thirty grand. Don’t need much land for it, and Pop would be happier than shit for me to live on the property we share with Gram. So I’d get an acre for free right there.”

  “Ever think of living somewhere else?”

  “I’ve traveled all over America and even Canada and once to Mexico. Nowhere seems worth leaving here. I know Ellsberg, and my people are here. It’s also close to White Horse where Audrey lives. When she has her baby, I plan to take care of it a lot to see if I have any interest in a baby. She said she learned she wanted a baby by taking care of one.”

  “They don’t have babies around here to practice on?” I ask, still looking at the pictures on her phone.

  “None that look like me. I hate holding Buzz’s son because he looked like his mama and her face just freaks me out.”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “I figured out who you’re talking about, and she isn’t so bad.”

  “Where are her eyebrows?”

  “I suppose they’re very light.”

  “Whatever,” Miranda says and shakes her head. “That baby looks too much like her. Though I saw a recent picture where he looked more like Buzz, so things might work out for the kid after all.”

  “There are worse problems in life than being ugly.”

  “True, but he comes from good-looking people. Being ugly in an ugly family isn’t so bad. I had a friend in school who wasn’t much to look at, but no one in her family was. If she’d been the ugly duckling in a family of swans, I bet she’d have been plenty upset.”

  “I’d rather be ugly than stupid.”

  “Don’t be so sure. My uncle is full-fledged stupid, but he’s done just fine in life. Good-looking, loyal wife, two good-looking, loud-mouthed kids, and a club of men who treat him like the words coming out of his mouth are worth listening to. People treat me damn well despite them thinking I’m dumber than a box of rocks. Would they be so kind if I were ugly? Nope. I look like my mom, and everyone says she’s beautiful, so there you go. I got lucky in the looks department, and I can get away with being dumb.”

  “But you’re not really dumb.”

  “What if I was? You liked me at the BBQ because I was pretty, not because I was reciting poetry or solving equations.”

  Leaning back my head, I let out laughter I’ve been holding since she showed me her circle house. Miranda grins at my response and sits next to me on the stone seat.

  “Is your mom alive?”

  “She died five years ago when I was overseas. I couldn’t make it back for her funeral, not that I had much to contribute.”

  “Were you close to her?”

  Scratching at my jaw, I notice a dog watching us from the dense brush several yards away. Did Daddy Johansson send the pooch or is it hoping I might drop my drawers and give it something to attack?

  “Motherhood never suited her,” I tell Miranda. “She fed me, kept me clean, and made sure I had what I needed for school and if I got sick. She did the work part of motherhood but never had a taste for the softer side. When I was eighteen, I signed up for the Army and left. We didn’t keep in touch except for Christmas cards. That suited us both.”

  Miranda stands up and frowns down at me. Her gaze then searches the woods before she finally sighs. “I don’t know about this.”

  “About what?”

  “I like hugging people,” she says and sits back down. “I like affection.” Miranda wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I can’t be with a man afraid of being close.”

  Wiggling free, I wrap my arm around her slender waist and tug her against me. “I ain’t afraid of anything, Miranda.”

  Our bodies, already sweaty from the hot day, stick together just right. Miranda gives me a half smile and pats my knee.

  “I don’t believe you,” she says, standing up and walks toward the cliff. “I suspect you’re afraid of everything, but you’ve gotten too good at hiding your fear. Now you think it doesn’t even exist.”

  “That’s some fancy head-shrinking there.”

  Miranda tugs off her white T-shirt, revealing her black bikini top beneath, and falls back over the edge. Before I reach the cliff, I hear her body splash in the water. I smile down to find her waving at me. Miranda leans back and floats until she’s splashed by the force of my entry.

  Blinking wildly, she mumbles, “You jumped faster than I expected.”

  “I’m not afraid of water, baby girl, if that was what you were hoping.”

  “Why would I want you to be scared of water?” she asks, bobbing in the water. “Men need to shower a lot, or they get hella stinky.”

  “That we do,” I say, reaching for her. “It’s deeper in here than I thought.”

  “Do you need me to keep you afloat?”

  “Think you could?” I ask, smirking at the thought of her saving me.

  “You’ll pull me down, and we’ll die together. I guess that could be romantic, but I bet my pop would piss on your corpse afterward.”

  “Wouldn’t care if he did. Once I’m dead, I won’t care about such small problems.”

  Miranda swims closer, and I feel her hand exploring my chest under the water. “I’d kiss you right now, but I don’t think I can do that without drowning.”

  “And you’re against drowning, right?”

  Grinning, she splashes me and swims backward. “I’ll kiss you later when we’re eating lunch.”

  “What if I don’t want you to kiss me?” I ask, poking the beautiful bear.

  Miranda only laughs while floating on her back. “We can’t stay in long, or the current will drag us so far down the river that we’ll walk forever to get back to the stai
rs.”

  “You’re the one who jumped.”

  “I wanted you wet,” Miranda says, swimming toward the shore. “I wasn’t wrong. You’re very appealing when wet.”

  Chuckling, I don’t hurry after her. My dick is living a life of its own, and I don’t know how to regain control. If I get out now, there’s no hiding that I’m sporting a raging erection. Miranda doesn’t help the situation when she gets out of the river and immediately leans forward to squeeze the water from her hair. I quietly growl at the view of her ample tits barely corralled inside her strappy bikini top. The woman is killing me. Based on her little smile before she takes off running toward the steps, I’m quite fucking sure Miranda is well aware of what she’s doing.

  THE ODDBALL

  My attraction to Quaid goes all the way down to my bones. Once he jumps into the water without hesitation, I’m convinced he’s the guy for me. We return to the firepit and sit on the stones. I can’t help myself. The temptation is too strong. I lean over and inhale his scent. I swear I’d crawl inside this man if possible. Yet I know so little about him even after we’ve spent so long talking. Mainly I’m curious about the old wounds across his torso.

  “How did you get hurt?” I ask while running my fingers over his scarred flesh.

  “Roadside explosive. I was luckier than most.”

  “Did you feel luckier when it happened or after you were healed?”

  Quaid gives me that looks I’ve seen on him a few times now. The “do you own a filter at all?” look. It’s something I see a lot from people. Rather than follow up the look with annoyance, he gives me a little smile.

  “When it happened, I didn’t feel anything except blinding fucking pain. I was shocked by how bad it hurt. I’ve always had a high pain threshold which made me a good solider. I didn’t get worn down as fast as a lot of guys. They’d complain about their feet hurting or their backs aching, but I never registered the same kind of pain. When the bomb went off, and I realized I wasn’t dead, though, I turned into a sniveling baby. Desperate for someone to fix me, I couldn’t think of anything beyond that pain. Fortunately, the doctors doped me up with the best painkillers and I could think like me again. Eventually, the pain faded and I didn’t need the pills anymore. Once I got to feeling like me full time, I also got to feeling luckier than most.”

  My heart hurts when Quaid talks about his injury. I can’t stand when people I care about are in pain. A few years ago, Mom slipped a disk in her back and was in a world of pain. I slept on the floor of her room to make sure she had someone at her beck and call until she was feeling better.

  Has Quaid ever had anyone as concerned about him? With an absentee father and indifferent mother, I’d guess the answer is no.

  “Tell me about the woman who bought you the cologne,” I say after digging out chicken sandwiches from my cooler. I hand him the food and open my thermos of spiked lemonade.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course. I won’t ask questions to be nice.”

  Quaid nudges me approvingly with his bare knee, and I get the incredible urge to stroke his tanned skin.

  “Well, alright then, but it’s not nearly as salacious as you might hope.”

  “Gross,” I say, patting his knee to get a little flesh-on-flesh action. “I’m not looking for details about how you slid the salami in the woman. Just the facts, bub.”

  “Nothing gross, I promise.”

  “Start with her name.”

  “Hayley.”

  “No,” I nearly yell, thinking of the many Hayleys who annoyed me the last twenty-five years. “Hate that name. Worst ever. Is that why you didn’t marry her?”

  “No, but her name should have acted as a warning,” he says, patting my hand still resting on his knee.

  We share a smile since we both know I’m feeling him up. I remove my hand and return to my sandwich. “So why didn’t you marry her?”

  “This was years ago when I was around your age. I was a Ranger, and she was the friend of the girlfriend of my friend. After about a year of dating, we decided to get married before I was deployed overseas again. That was the plan, but my gut told me to wait until I got back. Almost a year later, I returned to find her six months pregnant. No matter how much she tried to twist the numbers, there was no way the kid was mine. I suggested Hayley locate the kid’s father and get him on the line for support. I dodged a bullet with her.”

  “Are Army women usually loyal when their men are gone for so long?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t planned to be gone so long, but missions change. War was my profession, and I went where they told me to go.”

  “Were you sad when she turned up pregnant?”

  Quaid takes a bite of his sandwich, seeming more interested in eating than reminiscing about his former love. “No, which says more about our relationship than her getting knocked up with someone else’s kid.”

  “But you loved her.”

  “I guess, but I think she mostly just fit the life I had. When my friends sat around talking about their women, they sounded as if they loved them so much it hurt. I got to wondering if I wasn’t capable of that kind of shit. Was I fucked up inside, and that’s why I didn’t miss Hayley when I was deployed? Eventually, I came to realize Hayley, and I only made sense on paper.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “How would I know?” he asks with his mouth full of sandwich.

  “You know,” I say, wagging my finger at him. “For no other reason than people would tell you about her, thinking you’d care.”

  Quaid smirks. “You’re right. People were always sharing shit about her. Last I heard, which was years ago, she was pregnant by another guy, and he planned to make things official.”

  I finish half of my sandwich and enjoy the spiked lemonade before handing him the container. He doesn’t get prissy and ask for a cup. I can’t be with a man who expects extravagant comforts in life. I tend to eat leftovers, sleep without blankets and sheets, and drink out of the sink. Lily’s ex-fiancé used to look at me as if I was a leper. That’s why I loved asking him for hugs. Even now, I find myself smiling at the memory of him grudgingly embracing me while I wiped my hands on his back.

  “What’s so funny?” Quaid asks.

  “How did you go from working for the fuzz to being an outlaw? Did the man do you wrong?”

  “Once I got hurt, I wasn’t much use to the Army. A friend working as a security contractor got me hired at his firm. I traveled some, but I didn’t have a taste for looking the other way when the people I was protecting were scumbags. I quit and came back to the US with no plans,” Quaid says before pausing to drink more lemonade.

  We both take gulps to deal with the heat. I don’t rush him to talk because I don’t rush myself to talk either. People are always in a fucking rush in life.

  “So once back in the States,” he continues after a minute, “I visited the one living relative that I knew of. Aunt Pat lives in Shasta. I stayed at her house for a while, living off the money I’d saved over the years. Then I met Chase and learned club life wasn’t so different than what I knew in the military. Violence and loyalty are two things I’m good at. Over a six-month period, I played peon for the club. When I earned River’s respect, he made me one of his guys.”

  “Is Chase married to a blonde lady with giant boobs?”

  “Yes.”

  Grinning, I sigh with relief. “I knew I knew him, but he isn’t very memorable on his own. His wife, though, has what Colton refers to as ‘A-plus tits.’”

  “Do you think your brother will do a good job when he takes over the Reapers from your dad?”

  “Pop won’t retire for decades. He likes running shit. If Colton gets impatient, he can establish a chapter of his own,” I explain and then frown. “How come you’re so interested in my brother?”

  “I’m trying to think of anything that might deflate my erection.”

  Giggling, I assume he’s kidding. Once I realize he is
n’t, I laugh so hard I fall off the seat. Quaid holds out his hand so I can regain my balance. I rest my head against his arm and sigh.

  “Men are gross.”

  “Biology is gross. Men are mere slaves to it.”

  “You’re creating all kinds of uncomfortable feelings in me. I’ll need to she-bop later.”

  Quaid frowns down at me, puts together the meaning of she-bop, and then nods. “We’re on the same page there.”

  “Despite wholeheartedly believing sex is lame, I find myself very much interested in having sex with you. Before you arrived today, I came up with a plan. I’ll go ahead and she-bop right before we have sex. That way, I’ll be satisfied despite not enjoying the sex.”

  “Why would you not enjoy it exactly?” he asks, giving me a nudge. “Is this because of the losers you let screw you before?”

  “They weren’t losers.”

  “They weren’t winners.”

  “No.”

  “I am, you know?”

  Grinning, I nuzzle against his bare arm. “Yes, I do know. That’s why I’m willing to give sex another try. I still think I ought to she-bop first. You should be happy I’m taking the pressure off you to satisfy me sexually.”

  “So let me see if I understand this correctly. You plan to she-bop before we have sex and then just lie under me while I get my rocks off?”

  “Basically, yes, but I might moan and stuff too,” I say, laughing behind my hand. “You know, to keep things moving along.”

  Quaid throws his head back and laughs. “Do I get to watch you she-bop?”

  “Sure.”

  “So you’ll put on a show for me, I don’t have to satisfy you sexually, and I have access to your fine body? How can I say no?”

  “You really can’t.”

  “And if I did?”

  “I’d seduce you,” I whisper and bite his shoulder. “You’d be incapable of telling me no.”

  Quaid studies me with his pale blue eyes. I stare into them, seducing him with my best smoky gaze. He only grins.

  “I keep thinking one of your family members will show up the minute I kiss you.”

  “None of them know we’re here. They rarely know where I am.”