Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
SHAWN
Austin helps me load up the cupcake boxes into the back seat of his dad’s ranch truck. It’s an older truck, a little beat up and clearly used for work. He’s still handsome in that boyish way that I don’t think he’ll ever shake. It’s just who he is.
Once all the cakes are loaded up, he slams the hard metal door and turns to face me. His eyes find mine, and instead of smiling, he’s frowning. He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze focused on mine, and he clears his throat before he speaks.
My stomach clenches, wondering what he could be thinking and hoping that whatever he says next isn’t going to be another blow to my already fragile self. I feel as if I’m on edge, ready to completely crumble at any given moment.
“You don’t look good. I’m worried about you.”
I think about telling him that he doesn’t even know me. He hasn’t seen me in years. How can he be worried about me, and how can he know if I look good or not? But I don’t. He’s doing me a favor, a huge one, so I’m not going to say anything that would upset him. That would be ungrateful.
“I’m okay,” I say, trying to put on a fake smile.
It doesn’t work. My lips twitch the entire time.
I also can’t hold it for very long. I press them together in an effort not to frown or even cry.
I want to cry. Elvis should be the one here to help me.
All of this was his idea, and I haven’t had any kind of closure with him. I feel like such an idiot.
“You aren’t. Is it your mother or a guy?” he asks.
I hate how well he knows me. Even though it’s been years since I’ve seen him, he knows me. Shaking my head, I decide that I’m not going to tell him. He’s helping me out, but he’s not my boyfriend.
Maybe he should be.
Maybe I screwed everything up with him all those years ago.
But I can’t stop thinking about Elvis.
I can’t stop thinking about the way his touch makes me feel. The way he looks into my eyes when he’s deep inside of me. It’s perfection. I just wish he didn’t walk away from me like I was nothing.
“All of the above,” I confess. “Along with my brother.”
He snorts. “Your brother. Fuck, what a douche. Okay, I won’t bother you about it. Let’s get going so you can set up in time.”
He doesn’t wait for my response and instead turns and rounds the front of the pickup, then climbs into the driver’s seat. I climb up into the cab as well, closing the heavy door behind me before I cross my seat belt over my body and click it into place.
We ride to the farmers’ market in comfortable silence. Once we arrive, he helps me set everything up, then starts to leave to go to his father’s booth. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around his forearm.
He turns is head, flicking his gaze to my hand, then it slides back up to meet mine. “Shawn?” he asks.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” I whisper. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
His lips curve up into a small smile. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Lunch?”
Sliding my tongue across my bottom lip, I nod my head. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
He nods his head once, then gives me a lopsided grin before he turns and heads over to his father’s booth.
I move around to mine, and a few moments later, the farmers’ market opens.
People fill the area in an instant, and to my shock, awe, and surprise, they visit my booth, and none of them, not a single person, snubs my cupcakes or wrinkles their nose in disbelief that they could actually taste good.
In fact, I sell out.
I. Sell. Out.
I’m handing the last cupcake to my last customer when a shadow falls over my table. Lifting my head, I’m not sure who I expect to see, but it isn’t Atomic. Although maybe I should have expected to see him because Elvis did tell me that he came here every week.
“I came to ask you how you are doing, but I can see you did fucking amazing,” he says with a chuckle.
Smiling, I nod my head. “I did. It was a great idea, and now I’ve made enough to buy more supplies and replace some things that need replacing. If I can keep this up, maybe it will be a way to get people into the door of my actual bakery. Or maybe I just need to shift my entire life?”
I laugh to myself as I shake my head, feeling like a gigantic idiot. Like the idiot I am. “I unloaded a lot right there. I’m sorry,” I say.
Atomic clears his throat. “Never be sorry for something like that, babe. And honest to fuck, you ever think you want to do just mobile shit, you’re more than welcome to use the clubhouse kitchen. It’s gourmet.”
“I know,” I say. “I was drooling over it.”
He chuckles. “Nobody cooks but me, so you’re completely free to use it as you wish.”
I start to thank him for his offer when I feel someone step up beside me. Atomic’s eyes widen, and I swing my head to the side and find Austin standing beside me, his gaze narrowed and focused on Atomic.
I swing my gaze back to Atomic. His expression has changed from one of surprise to one of suspicion and anger. Then Austin speaks, and as he does, I can’t do anything but stare at Atomic and watch his expression go from anger to humor in a flash.
“So, are you dating and screwing around with Shawn?” Austin says.
He’s defending my honor, which is so him and very sweet.
But there’s no defending my honor with these men.
They’ll wipe the floor with him. I’m sure Austin is strong from working on the ranch, and if he were faced with anyone else, I know he would win.
But not against any of the men of the Dark Horse MC.
They are a completely different breed of tough.
“No, I can say with complete certainty that I am not screwing around with Shawn. We’re just friends.”
Austin nods his head, and Atomic winks at me before he takes a step backward. He reaches out, tapping my table a couple of times. “Think about my offer. It doesn’t expire.”
I almost ask him if it expires when Elvis has decided he’s done with me, which would be now, but I don’t say anything. It’s too depressing to say aloud. I already think it enough as it is. I don’t want to actually verbalize it.
“I’ll see you around,” Atomic says before he turns and walks away. I watch his back, the patches that claim him a Dark Horse MC member across the top. A patch that displays Pineville, Texas, across the bottom.
And then, in the center, a devil skeleton riding a horse. The exact replica of Elvis’s vest. And just the sight of it makes me want him all over again. How silly. A leather vest makes my pussy twitch for him.
Ridiculous.
KING
As I walk up to the farmers’ market, I’m not surprised to see that it’s almost over. It usually doesn’t last long, and it’s almost lunchtime. Parking my bike, I throw my leg over the side and stand tall as I look around the place.
It doesn’t take me long to spot her. I can see her long brown hair like a goddamn beacon shining in the sunlight. My back straightens at the sight of the man standing behind her. Man. I used the term loosely. He’s a kid.
He looks to be about her age, and if I were a better man, I would turn around, climb back onto my bike, and ride the fuck away. I would let her be with this boy and settle down somewhere in town, make babies, and live happily ever after.
I’m not a better man.
In fact, I’m seconds away from beating the fuck out of this stranger because he’s standing just a little too close to my woman. And even though I haven’t fucked her in a week, she’s definitely mine. I haven’t released her of that yet.
And I never will.
Not fucking ever.
Moving toward them, I watch as he turns to face her. She tilts her head backward to look up at him. They’re talking, but I have no idea what they’re saying, and I can’t tell shit by their body language other than the fact that they’re standing way too fucking close together.
Standing in front of them, the blood rushing through my ears, I watch and I wait for them to end their conversation and acknowledge my presence. I cross my arms over my chest, press my lips together, and glower at them.
Slowly, Shawn turns toward me. Her eyes widen at the sight of me, then she has the fucking nerve to narrow those pretty green eyes in anger. I match her glare with one of my own, waiting for her to speak, but it’s not her who says something first.
It’s him.
Whoever the fuck he is.
“She’s all sold out of cupcakes. Sorry, partner.”
My hackles rise at the word partner. Not just the word, though, the fucking tone of it. Leaning forward slightly, I keep my arms crossed over my chest, my gaze focused on this asshole and nobody else.
“Partner, I can get a cupcake any goddamn time I want. What I’m wondering is why the fuck you’re standing right here, this close to my woman.”
His eyes widen, but only for a split second, then he smirks, and I’m seconds away from knocking that smirk off his face.
He swings his head to Shawn, then back to me. “Your woman? You know she’s a fucking person, right? You don’t own her. And if she’s yours, then why the fuck did she call me to help her this morning?”
I fight the urge to flick my gaze to Shawn to gauge her reaction to this or question her. I’ll do that soon enough, but it can’t be here. It can only be in bed, where I’ll draw the answers out of her by denying her what she wants most—me.
“Not your fucking concern,” I grind out.
“Yeah, it is. Since I picked her up, loaded this shit, and unloaded it. I looked into her sad fucking eyes and knew you fucked up.”
Instead of dignifying that with an answer, I extend my arm, curl my fingers in his plaid button-down shirt, and pull him over the table so his face is close to mine—inches away—and only then do I speak.
“You don’t know fuck about fuck, little man. So I suggest you go back to Daddy’s farm and forget about this, forget that Shawn exists. Just fucking fade the fuck away,” I growl.
A moment of silence ensues, and I swear to fuck, this guy is probably pissing himself. Because I hear a whimper roll up through his throat before he decides to be brave and murmur some shit that he has no goddamn business saying to me.
“No,” he bites. “I’ve known Shawn since we were kids. I’m not going anywhere. I have her back, always.”
I want to hit him.
Right in the fucking face, I want to beat the absolute shit out of him, but I decide against it. This is Shawn’s business. This is her life here. I can’t do that. But what I can do is threaten this fucker within an inch of his life to leave her the fuck alone.
“Stay away from her, and I won’t kill you,” I hiss.
Releasing him, I take a step backward, my gaze flicking to Shawn. “We need to talk,” I bark.
She narrows her gaze on me. “We really do,” she snaps back, and I can’t help but smile at her tenacity. Fuck me, but I missed her this week.