Burly Biker of Misty Mountain (Misty Mountain #5)

1. Katie

Chapter one

Katie

Midsummer sunlight warmed my back in the bustling park. It seemed half the town of Misty Mountain was wandering around, soaking up the fresh air and the idyllic June afternoon—reading, playing frisbee, shopping, or dozing in the shade.

“Who wants more cake?” I asked.

The seven little girls seated around the picnic table gave a cheer of agreement. I smiled to myself and deposited tiny slices of airy rainbow-colored cake on their little plates.

When I was a kid, I’d been obsessed with everything involving tea parties. I spent countless hours pretending I was Alice in Wonderland, dining with the March Hare, the Mad Hatter, and the Dormouse, with their fantastical riddles and their endless towers of tea cups.

I never dreamed I would be able to turn my obsession into a full-time job that paid the bills and put a roof over my head.

As a senior in high school, I started an online shop on a whim, selling a few items for pocket change—tea party kits for beginners, handmade princess dresses for dolls, and cookie samplers.

In the span of just two weeks, it exploded with popularity. And my business was officially born. The Enchanted Teapot was a success.

After graduating college, I was earning enough to pay off my student loans and rent an apartment of my own. My business grew well beyond my humble online shop, and now I host in-person tea parties. I was even entertaining the idea of opening a brick-and-mortar shop with employees on a payroll and everything.

“Katie!”

I whirled at the sound of my best friend’s voice. Bristol Hampton waved from the edge of the parking lot as a taxi drove away. Her long dreads, studded with white and gold beads, were piled into an elegant bun on top of her head. The breezy, cream-colored sundress she wore made her golden brown skin practically glow. Two massive suitcases rested on the pavement at her feet.

We grew up in Misty Mountain together, attached at the hip as soon as we met in kindergarten. She was the outgoing one, gorgeous and charismatic, making friends everywhere she went, while I was the shy puppy who trailed at her heels.

In high school, she moved to New York for ballet school. In her adult life, she was now a professional ballerina, touring the world for performances to sold-out crowds. And I’ve missed her every day since then.

“What are you doing here?” I replied, hurrying across the park to greet Bristol with a hug.

She shrugged.

“I’m headed to California for a show, but my connecting flight through Denver was delayed until later tonight. So, I thought I’d revisit my old hometown. It’s been ages since we saw each other. I’d rather chat with you than be bored in an airport by myself.”

I gestured at the tea party.

“I’m working at the moment, but it’s supposed to be wrapped up in an hour.”

Bristol waved me off.

“Nonsense! If there’s a party, you know I’m there. I’ll give you a hand.”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

She sailed into the middle of the party and greeted the girls with a bright smile. They gazed up at her, eyes wide with awe and wonder.

Bristol always had that effect on people—as if she was an ethereal fairy who had just emerged from an otherworldly realm. I loved her to the moon and back, but I envied her, too. No matter how hard I tried, I could never match her magical, magnetic personality.

While Bristol and I prepared the party for a session of cookie decorating, she nudged me with her elbow.

“Well, go on,” she said. “Spill the beans, Katie.”

I paused as I laid out platters of multi-colored icing and bowls of sprinkles.

“About what?”

“I’m sure you have a special man in your life by now,” Bristol replied.

“Oh. That.”

My stomach twisted into a knot. I really didn’t want to discuss this. Especially not with Bristol. At twenty-seven years old, I still didn’t have any romantic experience. No first kiss, no holding hands, not even a talking stage.

Meanwhile, it seemed that every time Bristol and I called to catch up, she had an endless list of stories to tell about her love life—sizzling one-night-stands, dreamy Valentine’s Day couple vacations, and a proposal of marriage or two.

I never told Bristol what a hellish experience high school and college had been for me when it came to boys. Getting bullied for my curves had sent my self-esteem plummeting to rock bottom. The fat jokes on dating apps only poured salt in the wound. And when my one and only crush found out I liked him, it became the running joke across campus all year long.

“I’m too busy with work,” I said, avoiding her gaze.

Bristol clucked her tongue.

“Katie, sweetie, that’s no excuse. Don’t let life pass you by. I keep telling you—dating apps are the way to go. You live in Colorado. Hockey players are everywhere. They have stamina for days and they’re eager to please.”

I made a non-committal noise, scrambling for a way to change the subject.

“All you need is one little spark,” Bristol continued. “And the rest is history.”

I stifled a sigh. That was the whole problem.

I didn’t know what that spark of attraction felt like. For years, I’d been targeted for my curves, scoffed at, mocked, and ridiculed. But no one had ever looked at me with desire in their eyes.

A cry of dismay went up from the girls when a teacup was knocked over, spilling liquid across the lacy white tablecloth. Grateful for the distraction, I grabbed a handful of paper towels and began mopping it up.

By late afternoon, the party was over. Bristol and I began packing everything away. I balanced a box on my hip while I opened the back door of my Volkswagen.

“God, I could use a stiff drink,” Bristol muttered, rubbing her neck. “You’d think I’d be used to jet lag by now, but it still wipes me out.”

“You’re welcome to take a nap at my place,” I offered.

She snorted.

“And waste precious time with my best friend in the entire world? Absolutely not. An early dinner would be great though. I could eat a whole cow."

My heart warmed at Bristol’s words. She could have easily forgotten about me in this little mountain town, especially since she was growing increasingly popular on the world stage, but our friendship was still as strong as ever.

“Pick the place,” I replied. “My treat. I owe you one after lending a hand with the tea party today.”

Ten minutes later, the car was loaded up and I was pulling into the Rusty Elk Tavern. Despite my best attempts to steer Bristol in another direction, she was dead set on a juicy steak and a beer—her sole indulgence before her show next week.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and the dark wood paneling of the tavern. The lingering scent of cigar smoke and liquor hung in the air. The owner and bartender, Hank Montgomery lifted his hand in acknowledgement from behind the counter—a gruff ex-military man who was as cuddly as a teddy bear on the inside.

Since it was early in the evening, only a handful of patrons populated the room. Hank had built the tavern as a safe haven for anyone who needed it, and he never lacked clientele. Misty Mountain was a blue collar town, full of lumberjacks, truckers, military veterans, and travelers passing through. I didn't do any drinking myself, but the comfort food never failed to make my mouth water.

After we settled at our table and the waitress delivered our menus, Bristol gestured to the ladies’ room.

“I need to freshen up really quick. The airport grime is practically clogging my skin as we speak. While I’m gone, you better take a nice, long look at the biker who has been checking you out as soon as we walked in.”

My eyebrows shot up and I scanned the room. I spotted him at the bar—sharp dark eyes, tattoos covering his thick arms, and a black leather vest, tattered and well-worn, with NOMAD stitched across his broad shoulders. His salt-and-pepper curls suggested he was at least ten years older than me, but that did nothing to detract from the immediate flush that colored my cheeks when I met his gaze.

Then the biker shifted his attention back to his beer bottle and something in my gut twisted with disappointment.

“If you don’t say hi,” Bristol said. “I’ll do it for you.”

“Bristol,” I hissed. “Don’t you dare.”

Before I could stop her, she twirled on her heel with a smirk and waltzed toward the restrooms. Walking right by the biker.

I held my breath, hoping and praying she didn’t do anything that would make me want to sink straight through the floor.

Then she disappeared into the restroom, and I sagged in my seat with relief.

“Hey there.”

A man slid into Bristol’s empty seat, with lank hair that had a greasy sheen to it. His bloodshot eyes held a manic gleam as he stared at my cleavage. I crossed my arms, feeling prickly and exposed, even though the neckline of my blouse wasn’t revealing. Hiding the fact that I was a big-chested girl was impossible.

“You looked like you could use some company,” the man continued.

I gripped my purse as I glanced toward the restroom, willing Bristol to return.

“I'm waiting on a friend,” I replied. “I’m not alone.”

The man smiled.

“I saw you two girls come in. I’d be happy to entertain both of you for the evening.”

Uneasiness slithered up my spine. My gaze darted to the bar where Hank was wiping down glasses, but his back faced me. I couldn’t get his attention.

To my surprise, the biker rose from his bar stool and grabbed a chair, dragging it across the room with the scrape of wood against wood. Then he set his chair at the end of my table and straddled it, fixing the creep with a steady look.

“Is this asshole giving you trouble, dove?”

The creep’s smile dropped instantly and he bristled.

“Who the hell are you?”

“My boyfriend,” I blurted, without thinking. It just rolled off my tongue.

The biker didn’t even hesitate, playing along.

“And I don’t like to share.”

“She never said she was spoken for,” the creep replied, sullen.

A muscle twitched in the biker’s jaw. He propped his forearms across the back of his chair.

“She never invited you over here either.”

The creep huffed. A beat of silence lingered in the air.

“That means get lost, dumbass,” the biker growled. “Do I need to start breaking bones to get it through your thick skull that you’re not welcome?”

The creep glared at me and slid out of his seat, moving two tables down.

“You all right?” the biker asked softly.

I nodded, but I couldn’t find my voice to reply.

“Take a deep breath for me, yeah?” he added. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

I inhaled a shuddering breath and let it out.

“That’s better,” the biker said. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me. Just say the word.”

“No—wait.” I flung my hand out and gripped his forearm. Muscles flexed beneath my fingertips. Warm skin. Dark ink. I snatched my hand back as if I’d been burned, curling my nails into my palms at the memory of his scorching heat. “Can you…?”

I glanced at the creep, sulking at his table. Would he move in again when the biker left? And what the hell was taking Bristol so long?

“Can you stay for a little while?” I asked. “Just until my friend gets back.”

I grimaced at how awkward that sounded. But it had worked so far, and I didn’t know what else to do.

The biker’s gaze slid over me slowly.

“That won’t be too difficult. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Damn it, why did the grit in his voice make my stomach all…bubbly…like that?

“Katie,” I whispered.

The biker cupped my chin lightly and tilted my head up until I met his eyes.

…wow.

“My friends call me Maverick.” He tapped me on the tip of my nose. “If you were really my girl, I’d have you sitting in my lap right now, and I’d be kissing that pretty little neck.”

The air punched out of me in a rush. White static filled my brain. My face felt hot enough that I could have sworn it would burst into flames at any moment.

Maverick chuckled, deep and sinful.

“Only good girls blush that shade of red.”

I bit my lip with a strained noise and pulled away from his grasp. He was making me so tongue-tied with every word out of his mouth that I couldn’t think straight.

A flash of movement drew my attention to the other side of the bar. Bristol emerged from the restroom. When she noticed me sitting with Maverick, she screeched to a stop. A moment later, she arched her eyebrow with a knowing grin.

Then Bristol sank onto a nearby bar stool, showing no inclination to interrupt what she clearly thought was the flirtation I needed.

“I—I should probably go,” I said.

Maverick hummed and shook his head.

“No need to make a run for it. I don’t taste or touch without permission.”

I blinked at that, feeling my face grow even hotter at the thought of him…tasting…and touching.

Straightening in his seat, Maverick removed his leather vest and draped it over my shoulders. The fabric was heavy, still pleasantly warm from his body heat. In the middle of summer, a jacket would have been suffocating and unbearable. But his vest was perfect, providing a comforting weight like a hug.

On the other side of the room, Bristol gave an enthusiastic smile and pretended to fan herself. She ducked her head and a moment later, my phone pinged with a text from the depths of my purse.

“Boyfriend calling?” Maverick asked.

Was that a hint of frostiness in his tone? Or was I imagining things?

I fished my phone out and glanced at the screen to see Bristol’s text.

You better ride that biker into the sunset, sweetie, or I’ll never forgive you!!!

My face must have been a nuclear level of red by now. I shoved my phone back in my purse. Bristol was clearly not going to return to our table any time soon.

“No boyfriend,” I said. “But I’ve intruded on your time enough already. I think I’ll be okay now.”

Maverick brushed me off with a lazy flick of his wrist.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. You’ve been a breath of fresh air to my otherwise very dull day. And for the record, I’m a selfish bastard. I hope your friend stays over there at the bar. As I said before, I don’t like to share.”

He winked with a smirk. The warm timbre of his voice flooded through my body like molten lava. A pleased little smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Was this… flirting?