Chapter Fourteen #2
Casey grabbed her martini glass the minute the waiter set it down and took a couple gulps.
“I don’t have a clue where either of my parents are,” she said.
“I don’t even know who my father is. My mom once told me it could be one of three men because she was screwing all three of them when she got pregnant with me. ”
Rags’s face went still. “Fuck, Case.” He reached out for her hand, but she slipped it onto her lap. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said, sharp enough to cut off any sympathy. “It is what it is.”
She stared past him, past the warm glow of the overhead lights, the flicker of the candle on the table, like she could see the northside again if she looked hard enough.
“I grew up getting bounced between my grandma and my drug-addicted, alcoholic mom. When my mother was clean, sober, and not with some guy, I’d move back in with her in a low-income housing apartment on the northside of the city, east of Federal Boulevard.
” Her throat tightened and she glanced out the window at the strings of white lights wrapped around the evergreens.
“When she wasn’t… I’d end up back at my grandma’s. ”
“And your grandma took you in?” he asked, quieter now.
“She took in all of us,” Casey said. “Her house was falling apart at the seams, and she still kept making room. She had five kids and only two could take care of themselves. The other three were a mess with drugs, alcohol, jail sentences, and going off the grid. When shit happened, my cousins landed on her doorstep.”
Rags exhaled hard, jaw flexing. “Fuck, baby.”
“You know, my grandma had her own problems,” Casey said, the words coming easier now that she’d started. “Rheumatoid arthritis, living on disability and food stamps, never having enough money. Some of my older cousins were a handful and heading down the same path their parents were on.”
“She sounds like a helluva woman,” he said.
“She was. I adored her. She was the only stable thing in my life. Staying with her was like being transported into another world.” A lump rose in her throat, and she blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay.
“Is she still living?” he asked.
“No.” Casey swallowed. “She passed away two years ago. When I finally landed a good job at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts, I started sending her money every month and kept doing it until she died.” She stared at her glass. “I miss her.”
Rags nodded. “I’m sure you do. It’s tough to lose someone you love.”
“Yeah. You know, she wasn’t rich,” Casey said, a small smile tugging at the bittersweet memory.
“But she made it work. Somehow there was always something for dinner. Most of the time it was just cheap cuts of beef, pork, or chicken. She could make a meal out of nothing and stretch it for days.” Her eyes flicked up to his.
“She had a big vegetable garden, too. We ate fresh food in the summer, and she canned and froze what was left. I learned a lot from her.”
“That’s why you know so much about plants and fertilizers.”
“Yeah.” She nodded once. “My grandma was my mentor, my friend, my parent… my everything.” Her mouth tightened.
“She tried to become my guardian, but my mom flipped out. She didn’t want to lose her food stamps.
She used to sell them for drugs. I always left my grandma’s house with dread in the pit of my stomach.
I never knew how long I’d be with my mom.
Sometimes it’d be for a couple of months, sometimes longer.
It was always a gamble on how long my mom would stay clean and sober and how long she’d stay away from men. ”
“That had to be so fuckin’ hard, babe,” he said, the words rough.
She shrugged. “It was the only life I knew then. The Dollar Store was our supermarket along with food banks. A lot of dinners were ramen noodles and potato chips.”
Rags reached across the table again, slower this time, as if he were giving her space to refuse. She didn’t pull away, and he took her hands and brought them to his lips. “I would’ve liked to have met her,” he said. “The woman who kept you standing.”
Casey’s fingers tightened around his. “My grandma’s smiling down on me.
She always insisted we do our schoolwork, and I held onto the belief that getting an education was my way out of the poverty that crippled my family.
” An image flashed in her mind—her younger self doing homework at the coffee table while her mother shot up in the bedroom.
“And you did it,” Rags said. “You got out.”
“I refused to be a victim of it. I can be quite stubborn and determined.”
“Really? You could’ve fooled me.” A slow smile spread across his face.
The waiter set down their dinner plates, a basket of bread, a glass of pinot grigio for Casey, and a draft beer for Rags.
“The prime rib is beyond delicious,” she said, popping another morsel in her mouth. “How’s yours?”
“Awesome.”
“Now it’s your turn.”
“Not yet. Did you move here from Denver?”
“Not exactly. I took a job with a theatre complex in Boise, Idaho. It was a good step for me. It was more money and responsibilities. My friend Jacob, you met him at the theatre, helped me get the job there and here.” I don’t want to get into JT and all that crap. Enough of memory lane.
“Oh yeah, that fuckwad. The one giving you a massage during work hours. He’s another one I wanted to beat the shit out of.”
“Is that the way you resolve your anger?”
“If the situation warrants it.”
Before he could dig deeper into Boise, Casey looked over the rim of her wineglass and changed course. “Besides running your own business, what keeps you busy?”
“Club stuff. We got several businesses members are required to help with. Some brothers work full-time and get a salary; the rest of us pick up shifts when needed.”
“Besides the mandatory strip bar, which I know your club has, what else?”
“Besides the strip bar Dream House,” the side of his mouth tugged up, “there’s the dispensary, Big Rocky’s Barbecue, a strip mall in West Pinewood Springs, Burgers & Beer Joint, and a building named Mountain Skies with shops on the main floor and four floors of apartments.”
“That’s impressive. And I love Burgers & Beer Joint. I had no idea an MC owned it. It has the best burgers in town, and I’ve tried most of them. I’m a cheeseburger-extra pickles-onions-ketchup kind of woman.”
He laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
Casey, sipping her glass of wine, gazed into his hazel eyes.
The way he listened, the way his shirt clung to his chest, the way his lips quirked had her body tingling, every nerve on alert.
Maybe it was the two dirty martinis and wine, but everything about him exuded sex.
I bet he has a special woman, maybe a club girl, who holds his attention.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it.
He jerked his head back. “No way.”
“I was just asking.”
“You think I do?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I was asking.”
“I don’t. If I did, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He took a long pull from his draft beer. “You have a boyfriend?”
“No.” Not wanting to have the focus back on her, she asked, “Did you ever have a girlfriend? I mean before you joined the Insurgents.”
Rags stared at his beer then flicked his eyes up and held her gaze. “Yeah. I had an old lady.”
Surprise ricocheted through her. “You were married?”
“Not according to citizen’s rules, but she wore my patch. In the biker world, that’s the same as being married. It’s a tight bond. Or it’s supposed to be.”
I know too well what it means and how JT spit on it.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
“She cheated on me. I found her with a buddy of mine after she lied about working nights to save for a citizen wedding. I believed her until I stopped by her job, thinking we could spend her break together. Turns out she hadn’t worked an overtime shift in nine months.” He finished his beer.
“That’s awful. I can imagine how much it must’ve hurt finding that out. I’m sorry you went through that.”
“It was a long time ago,” he muttered.
“Still… memories have a way of creeping back in.”
“Sometimes.” His jaw flexed. “I beat the crap outta him, called my brothers to help me move my shit out of our apartment, and never looked back. The next night, I threw her property patch into the bonfire.”
“And you’ve never let yourself get involved with another woman again, right?”
“I’ve had plenty of women since Julie.”
“Club girls and one-night stands aren’t what I’m talking about.”
“I’m out with you,” he said. “You’re neither of those.”
“That’s true.” She felt heat crawl up her neck. “Why are you out with me?”
“Same reason you’re sitting across from me. We got a pull going between us. I know you feel it and you’re fighting it like hell. I just don’t know why yet. Am I right?”
“Sort of.” Her voice was soft. “I like how you care about Clara, and that you have a landscaping business and love plants and trees.”
“Is that all you like about me?” Rags’s lips quirked up, his eyes intent.
Casey’s mouth went dry as her body reacted to the memory of his mouth on hers, her body pressed against his, his hands roaming down her back and cupping her ass.
“Well?” The feral glint in his gaze sent a shiver racing across her skin.
“There may be some other things I like about you,” she said.
“Oh yeah?” His voice, low and gravelly, stroked over her senses like velvet.
Rags scooted around the booth and pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him, as he pressed his mouth to hers.
Casey kissed him back, savoring the heat, sliding her arms around his neck.
His tongue slipped in and she met it with her own, the kiss deepening, sending frissons of desire racing through her.
A small moan escaped her throat. He slowly pulled back, his hazel eyes smoldering.
“You’re quite a kisser,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath.
“And you do something to me, woman,” he said, voice low and raspy.