Chapter 7 NOVA
NOVA
“Not tonight,” I told myself. “I’m not going there tonight. No matter what.”
I had to break this streak.
Four days. I’d gone to Emmett’s house four days in a row because he was an addiction. An addiction I had to get under control before I lost my nerve.
Easier said than done. My willpower had been nonexistent and it had all started because of the weekend.
On Sunday when he’d dropped me at my car still at the grocery store, I’d gone to my rental house and replayed the weekend.
I’d replayed it a thousand times since and I still couldn’t pinpoint the moment when my willpower had vanished.
Maybe it had been over the omelet. Maybe it had been the whiskey.
Maybe it had been one of the many orgasms he’d given me.
Hell if I knew.
It was probably a combination of everything because since last weekend, I couldn’t get Emmett off my mind. And I couldn’t get our weekend out of my head.
Over and over I’d analyzed our time together. I’d obsessed over what I’d told him.
The truth.
For each question asked, I’d told him the truth. A lie required effort. The truth was simple. There’d been no need to lie. I’d told him about my favorites as he’d shared his own.
I’d been completely honest with him, about everything except my identity. Not that he’d asked.
Though when he’d called me Nova, I’d nearly had a heart attack.
The car. A nickname because of my car.
If only he knew how often I’d wanted someone outside my family to use my name.
Maybe that was the moment my walls had cracked.
I’d spent Sunday night in my bed, the scent of him clinging to my skin because I hadn’t wanted to wash it away. I’d planned to stay away on Monday too, but after a long day of work, my body had moved on autopilot, climbing into my car and making my way to his secluded mountain paradise.
Pulling up to his house, I’d promised myself not to spend the night. That we’d have sex and I’d go home. To my own bed.
Except his smooth white sheets had proved another addiction.
Monday had repeated on Tuesday. Tuesday on Wednesday. Wednesday on Thursday. Now it was Friday and I had to stop. I had to break this streak.
I didn’t want to go to his house. Because I wanted to go so badly.
Shit. I was in trouble.
What was wrong with me? It was only sex. This was just part of the plan. So why couldn’t I detach from him?
Every moment spent with Emmett was infuriating because he was so goddamn perfect. He was not who he should have been. He was not the monster I’d expected.
Part of me wanted to blame my infatuation on the orgasms—the many, many orgasms. And while they surely had contributed to the muddling of my brain, this addiction was because Emmett was so . . . everything.
It was the way he constantly touched or pulled me close, like he couldn’t bear even an inch between us.
It was the way he’d held me pressed into his side when we’d watched TV.
It was the way he’d pushed the lounge chairs on his deck together so that even though we kept our individual seats, his leg would cross over to mine.
He moved like a dream in the kitchen. It was ridiculously sexy to watch a man who liked to cook and who did it well. I’d only ever seen my mother in our childhood kitchen. With Dad’s constant absence, she’d carried that burden alone. Even Shelby’s husband, Jack, didn’t cook.
Nope, just Emmett.
Why couldn’t he have been the man I met after this charade?
I would not allow myself to fall for Emmett. He was a criminal. He was a Tin King. And they deserved to pay for their crimes.
It was time to reset. To remember why I was here. Remembering was the reason I stood across the street from the Clifton Forge Garage, hidden behind the corner of a beige building.
The Nova was parked three blocks away on a side street. I hadn’t wanted to risk Emmett seeing it. I’d parked, then walked here, keeping to the alleyways as I skirted nondescript buildings until I had a decent view of the garage and its open shop doors.
Emmett was working on a bike in the third bay.
While I’d been spying, the other mechanics had been doing oil changes and tire rotations.
But Emmett had been working alone, spending his time welding on the motorcycle.
A shield covered his handsome face but I’d recognize that messy bun of his anywhere.
He was the only mechanic I recognized today. The other two Tin Kings, Dash and Leo, were either not working or off to a long lunch. Maybe they were in the office, hidden from my spying.
It didn’t matter. They could have been standing in the street waving pink and purple flags and my attention would still have been drawn to Emmett.
He’d pulled on a pair of coveralls over the jeans he’d had on this morning, tying them at the waist. The colorful tattoos on his arms were all on display, his white tank top showing off his muscled biceps.
I’d traced nearly every one of his tattoos with my tongue. All except the skull on his back.
As a little girl, I’d memorized Dad’s club’s patch.
Maybe because it was the last thing I saw when he rode away, the emblem stitched into his black leather vest. The Arrowhead Warrior patch was simple in design.
It was an arrowhead framed by the club’s name and the year it had been founded.
The stitching was white but Dad’s had faded to a grayish cream over the years after so much wear.
I would never admit it to my father, but compared to the artful Tin King patch, the Warrior emblem was like a child’s drawing.
Though I’d never seen the Tin King patch on a cut, I’d seen the design on Emmett’s skin.
And though I couldn’t always avoid touching it completely, I didn’t worship it like I did his other ink.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out. The garage was too far for anyone to hear me, but still I kept my voice low as I answered my sister’s call. “Hey.”
“Why are you whispering? Is this a bad time?”
“No, I’m good. Working.”
“I just wanted to call and say hi.”
I smiled. “Hi.”
So much of me wanted to tell her everything. About Dad. About the Warriors. About Emmett. If anyone could help me make sense of the mess in my head, it was my sister.
But I kept my secrets inside and my eyes on the object of my confusion.
Emmett flipped up the face shield, giving me a glimpse of that strong jaw covered by a beard that had tickled my thighs last night.
I would never be able to kiss those soft lips enough.
I’d never have enough time in his arms. If I ever fell apart, those arms had the strength to keep my broken pieces together.
Except when I fell apart, he wouldn’t be there, would he?
And the only person I’d have to blame was myself.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked, needing a distraction and a familiar conversation.
“Oh, nothing much. I’m delivering a batch of cupcakes to a birthday party tomorrow morning. The little girl wanted a Frozen theme, so I did blue and white frosting with these pretty sugar snowflakes. Then I think we’re going to take Christian on a hike while the weather is still nice.”
Fall was approaching fast, the summer coming to a close.
Though short, autumn in Montana was my favorite season.
The temperatures would cool soon. The trees would become a kaleidoscope of color at the base of the indigo mountains.
And the fields would turn from green to gold.
We were entering those vibrant, fleeting weeks before winter.
The gift of beauty before snow blanketed the ground.
The end was near.
By winter, would the Tin Kings be in their own prison cells? They might be, but only if I managed to get these feelings for Emmett under control.
Not tonight. I was not going to his house tonight.
With one last look at him, I turned away from the garage and started down the alley toward the Nova. “That sounds like a nice weekend. How’s Mom?”
“She’s good. She’s helping a friend run a booth at the farmer’s market tomorrow. I baked a few small cakes for her to take and sell.”
“How’s Christian?”
“Napping at the moment. He’s getting so big so fast. Jack and I . . . we’ve been talking about another baby.”
“Yes. I completely support this idea.”
Shelby laughed. “It’s crazy. Babies are so much work but . . .”
“But you make such beautiful babies.”
“I want Christian to have a sibling or two. I can’t imagine growing up without you or TJ.
” There was a note of sadness in her voice when she spoke TJ’s name.
Shelby rarely spoke of our brother and normally it came with some anger.
Anger at Dad for dragging TJ into the club life.
Anger at TJ himself for following. Mostly I think Shelby was angry because of how she and TJ had ended on a sour note.
He was gone and she’d never have a chance to make it right.
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“I vote yes on another baby. I need a fix.” Maybe I’d have children of my own one day. I hoped so. But if all I had was the chance to be the fun aunt, then I would be the best aunt in the world.
“You could have babies of your own, you know. That means you’d have to go on more than a first date with a guy. But it is possible.”
“Ha ha,” I deadpanned.
If only she knew how many times I’d been with Emmett. Shelby loved to tease me about my ability to fault a man over a single dinner. In the past ten years, I’d been on countless first dates. A second date was rare. I’d gone on more dates with Ira than any man in ages and Ira was fake.
Just like Emmett was fake.
Because I was fake.
My entire life there had always been fake.
“Uh-oh,” Shelby said. “I hear Christian on the monitor. I’d better let you go.”
“Love you,” I said.
“Love you too. And, Nova?”
My heart twisted. She used my real name less and less these days. “Yeah?”
“I miss you.”