Eden's Joker (Devil’s Nightmare MC Next Generation, Book 7)

Chapter 5

With the war on, I couldn’t have Tyler just ride into town, pick me up in front of my bookshop to drive me off into the sunset. I’m sure my dad’s MC brothers, the ones I’m sure he has watching me at all times, would swoop in on him in a matter of seconds. If they let him ride into town at all. I also heard them discussing that all the ways in and out of Pleasantville are watched more closely than Fort Knox these days.

So I asked him to meet me in the town of Starling about ten miles west of my hometown. It’s a quiet little hippie village with lots of arts and crafts shops, a quaint, old-timey town center, and a very relaxed vibe.

Everything here is painted either white, yellow, or light blue, including all the shops lining their main street, which they call Sunnyside. A very apt name, especially since a lot of the houses here are adorned with actual suns or clouds and even one that has books painted all over its facade. That’s my favorite one. If I had any art skills to speak of, this is what my bookshop would look like. Maybe I should hire someone to paint it for me. Why not? I already got all my other decorating inspiration from the places around here.

I’d hoped the relaxed, sunny vibe of this place would finally slow my racing heart, but I was dead wrong. Between frenzied packing and shipping of books, and anticipating finally meeting Tyler, my heart rate’s been in overdrive for the past two days. If this goes on any longer, I might not survive it.

I arrived half an hour early, because I couldn’t sit still for a minute longer. And because I had to do all sorts of maneuvers to make sure I wasn’t followed by any MC bodyguards. Including stopping at two malls along the way, then sneaking out the back. The guys from the MC would stick out at both those places and I didn’t see a single one. Maybe I’m wrong about being watched at all times. They are very busy with the war, after all.

But no, I won’t think about that.

Today is about me and Tyler getting to know each other on this sunny street.

I’m sitting in the garden of a small tea shop, surrounded by late blooming jasmine, its gentle scent rising heavily around me. I ordered a chamomile tea and its scent is only adding to the calming aroma. But doing nothing to actually calm me.

I hear a Harley approaching, first as a faint thunder-like sound rising on the horizon and then as loud as an avalanche as it draws near. It cuts off right in front of the garden and when I look up, he already has his bright, glacier-colored eyes fixed on me. I knew his eyes would be piercing from the videos and the pictures, but I didn’t expect this intensity.

He weaves his way among the white metal tables to get to me and I rise, as though pulled to my feet by his gaze.

A smile is playing on his lips as he reaches me. The bushy dark beard he’s sporting has no hope of hiding it.

“So this is Eden in real life?” he says, checking me out from head to toe. The feel of his gaze is like the aftermath of touching ice. Prickling heat. Only it’s everywhere.

“And this is Tyler,” I say in a cracked sort of voice, and finally break eye contact so I can check him out too.

The videos and the selfies don’t do him justice. He’s built like a soldier without being bulky, the muscles of his arms and chest curving in perfect rolling hills like the countryside that surrounds my hometown. The black t-shirt and jeans he’s wearing look like they were tailored just for him. His clothes are black, his hair and beard are also, and the tattoos covering most of his skin are too. But his eyes are like the sky at dawn, just before the sun rises and makes everything better. He’s the perfect play of night and day, light and dark.

“Yes, and I’m all yours,” he says and lets his eyes linger on mine for another second, holding a spark that plainly tells me he means those words completely.

Then he takes my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the top of my wrist like a perfect gentleman. The heat that passes thorough me at the touch of his lips on my skin has nothing on the one his gaze already woke in me.

“Wow,” I whisper without meaning to. And feel my cheeks grow crimson as he looks up at me and chuckles.

“I was just gonna say that,” he says and checks me out once more, again leaving no doubt in my mind that he’s telling the absolute truth.

I have never enchanted a man this hard. At least not to my knowledge. And I’ve never been this enchanted by one either.

“We should probably sit down,” he says, glancing around.

The few people in here are staring at us. I clear my throat, nod, and bump into the spindly metal table pretty hard as I sit. It sends my cup of tea wobbling and the light golden liquid sloshing around threatening to spill all over the pretty lacy tablecloth. Not to mention the flower-adorned white summer dress I’m wearing.

His hand darts out to steady the cup with the precision of a cat striking its prey. He chuckles at my loud sigh of relief and brings the cup to his nose as he sits down.

“What is this? Chamomile?” he asks, and I feel my cheeks heat up even more. Only this isn’t the pleasant heat of having him gaze at me or kiss my hand. This is pure red-hot embarrassment. Between the good girl dress I’m wearing and the tea I’m drinking he’s gonna think I’m just a boring bookworm like everyone else does. What was I thinking dressing like this and ordering tea?

“What can I say, I was nervous to meet you,” I say and give him one of those all over looks he’s been giving me since he got here. “And for good reason, I now see. You got it in you to sweep a girl off her feet. And more.”

His dawn blue eyes widen as though I surprised him with my forwardness. Good. Because I’m a lot more than just a quiet girl who likes to read a lot. The wild streak that runs in my family didn’t get lost on me like everyone thinks. It just runs deeper under the surface. But I think he’ll help me find it.

The tables and chairs in this place are tiny and he’s sitting so close our knees are almost touching. His scent is mixing with the chamomile and jasmine in the air, a heady aroma of summer wind, the open road and danger. I’ve never been so drawn to a guy I just met before. Especially not a biker. Maybe that’s because I’ve been around them my whole life, and they’ve always been off limits, so I’ve developed a way to just tune them out. Or maybe I’m just picky.

“You fit right into this place,” he says, glancing around. “Do you come here often?”

Oh, no. He’s already starting to see me like everyone else does. A boring bookworm, her nose always stuck in a book.

“About once a month, give or take,” I say. “Well, not this place specifically. But there’s a pastry shop down the road and they make the best cherry pie in the world. Their homemade vanilla ice-cream is out of this world too.”

Now he’s looking at me like I’m a scoop of that vanilla ice cream. Or is that just what I want to see?

“You must really love living in a dreamy place like this,” he says and chuckles.

He gazes past my head in the direction of the street and at all the fun houses lining it.

“Oh, I don’t actually live here,” I say and feel myself blushing again. “I just thought it’d be a cool place to meet up.”

I almost said, “For our first date.” Thank God I managed not to. As it is, the word cool came out really forced from my mouth. Like I wouldn’t know the first thing about what cool is. He narrows his eyes at me, a small smile playing across his lips, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. It could be anything. But it’s probably that I’m a total loser. What else?

“You didn’t want to meet in your hometown, so I wouldn’t know where you live,” he says. “Smart girl.”

For a split second his eyes turn very dangerous. Like the sun glinting off ice when you’re all alone in a desolate winter wonderland. Maybe he’s telling me the truth. But I’m due some danger. I’ve been playing it safe my whole life.

“I love this town. Besides, back home isn’t what it used to be,” I say. “This is more like it.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Not what it used to be? I thought these sleepy northern Cali towns were all the same. Quaint, quiet, and pleasant.”

Does he know I’m from Pleasantville? I try to remember if I ever mentioned it to him. Or in one of my videos. But I must have.

“Yes, it is nice there. A little crowded lately, with all the city folks moving to the country.”

He nods knowingly. “Lots of that happening everywhere.”

“And what are towns on the east coast like?” I ask. “Just as quaint and pleasant as here?”

“A little rougher,” he says and winks at me. “Not as soft as here.”

“Colder too, I bet,” I say. “I’d love to visit the east coast, but not in winter. I can’t stand the cold.”

We’re just talking about towns in a very general way and it’s one of the most riveting conversations I’ve had in a while.

“I’m not a big fan of winter either. So I think I’ll just stick around here for a while.”

Yay!

I very nearly say that out loud, but manage not to. No one’s come to serve him yet and I wonder if that’s because he sticks out so much in this soft, pleasant place or because not that much time has passed since he got here. I feel like we’ve been here forever—I feel like I’ve known him forever—so that might be messing with my perception.

I pick up my tea and take a sip. His eyes zero in on my lips as I wrap them around the cup’s edge. Such a small thing, but the look makes something so primally intense rush through me that I very nearly forget to swallow.

“What can I get you?” a female voice says beside me. But he doesn’t take his eyes off mine, and doesn’t seem to hear.

I’m pretty sure everyone in this whole place is looking at us again, but I don’t know, because our eyes are glued together. I wonder what he sees in mine. Forests, because they’re green, the way I see ice in his? What a silly, girly thing to think!

The waitress clears her throat. “Do you need a little more time?”

“I think we’re ready to get some of that famous pie now,” he says, his eyes still firmly locked on mine.

I nod. “Yes, I’d like that.”

I’d already paid for my tea right after I got it, so I just smiled at the waitress and follow him out to the sidewalk. I feel like everyone’s watching again and I kind of feel like I’m just watching myself too. Watching as I follow this dark and dangerous biker out of the safety and softness of the tea shop and into the wild. Not that the street here is any less safe and pleasant.

But I still feel like I’ve made a huge leap. And I can’t wait to see where it will lead.