Chapter Twelve
Juniper
Sunday wasn’t a real day off. Not for people who owned bakeries, and definitely not for people being stalked by absolute dickheads.
I pulled into my parking spot at the curb and just sat there for a second, staring at the front window.
The sign said “Closed,” but it still felt like the shop stared back at me, waiting for me to get my shit together and open up.
I felt like the shop was judging me, and by extension, my grandmother judged me as well.
I heaved out a defeated sigh before getting out of the car and moving to the bakery entrance.
Inside, the air was weird. Cold and echoey, every step too loud without the usual drone of ovens and the low hum of Georgia’s playlist in the background.
Funny how I’d never noticed the quiet so much before today.
Inferno leaned with his shoulder braced on the door frame, arms folded.
He watched both me and the parking lot outside as I flicked on the lights and started my rounds.
I wanted to make sure the place could be closed for more than a few days and needed to dispose of anything that wouldn’t make it that long.
Also, I admit, I might have been looking for listening devices or anything that looked amiss.
“You know, Knight’s crew will go over this place with a fine-tooth comb later.”
“They better not mess up my shit,” I muttered, not really meaning it, but I felt so out of control and helpless it was hard not to lash out.
“You know Knight will make sure everything is kept neat and clean.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I know. I just don’t like being so out of control and, honestly, this is partially of my own making. I welcomed Brett into my life to avoid having to face everything on my own.”
“That’s not your fault either, honey.” Inferno leveled a look at me. “You were just a kid compared to that bastard. You’d lost your grandmother and inherited a business. Naturally you had to be overwhelmed as shit. He likely knew that.”
Last stop before leaving was the prep table.
I stared at the shelf above it for a second, then reached up and grabbed the recipe box my grandmother had kept there.
It was old, heavy tin or something like it, corners battered and the paint chipped from years of use.
Nothing special about it except the inside, which was jammed with index cards in a dozen different handwritings.
I shoved it in my bag. I didn’t want to leave it in the shop, not while things were weird.
That recipe box was my grandmother’s prized possession. Now it was mine too.
When I turned to leave, Inferno straightened, watching me but with a crease between his brows. Like he was thinking really hard about something.
“Ready to go home?” he asked, voice even. No pressure in it.
“Don’t want to go home. Don’t want to stay here, either.” I shouldered my bag, deciding I was tired of feeling like I was being watched and stalked. “Take me somewhere else,” I demanded with a raised chin.
He nodded once, a slow smile lifting the corner of his lips. Then he turned, reached for the helmet he’d hung on the coat hook by the door, and handed it to me.
“Let’s go, baby.”
“What about my car?”
He already had his phone in his hand, texting with quick flicks of his thumbs. “Got Tiny on the way. He’ll make sure your car gets home.”
As I spoke, a motorcycle rounded the corner and pulled in front of the shop.
Zero shut off his bike and gave Juniper a respectful nod.
“Ma’am.” Then he addressed Inferno. “Tiny said to wait here for him and to hang on to your woman’s car keys if you guys wanted to head on out.
” He looked back at me. “I swear I won’t joyride or anything, ma’am.
” At first, I thought he was joking, but his eyes were wide and sincere, like he desperately wanted me to believe him.
I shrugged. “I never thought you would.” I wrapped my hand lightly around Inferno’s upper arm.
By being here and feeling so protective of my grandmother’s memory, something bubbled up out of me without meaning to.
“Inferno has more integrity than any man I’ve ever met.
From what I’ve learned from the other women in the club since I met him, the whole of Kiss of Death has some kind of criminal record.
Yet, every man from the club I’ve met has treated me with the utmost respect and concern. ”
“Yeah,” Zero said, scrubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just that, one of the things I used to do was hot-wire cars and take them on joyrides. Parking garages were the easiest,” he muttered before clearing his throat. “Anyway, Knuckles said I should be up front with people.”
“You know, sometimes, guilt by association can run the opposite direction. By being with the club, the way the women talk about all of you guys, I would automatically assume you’re not a bad guy.
My grandmother always said the key was to live up to the reputation rather than bring the whole group down with you. ”
Zero straightened and somehow actually looked proud. Maybe even a little relieved. “Yeah. I can do that, ma’am.”
“I’m Juniper, Zero.” I smiled at him, fully aware Inferno stiffened beside me. “You’re not that much younger than me.” I tossed him my keys. “She’s a Taurus, but she’s no match for the police cruisers, so if you do decide to joyride keep that in mind.”
He grinned at me before glancing at Inferno. I thought he might look intimidated or something, but the little shit just kept grinning. “She likes me, bro.”
“Don’t make me have to kill you before you make a fully patched member, kid. I will totally dump your body in the river, then cry at your funeral.”
Zero just shrugged. “Hey. You don’t want brothers throwin’ their hat in the ring, give her your patch, man.” Zero winked at me before slinging one long leg over the back of his bike to wait on Tiny.
Inferno actually growled at the younger man, but I laughed and shoved him toward his own bike.
“Come on, Romeo.” I chuckled as I put on the helmet he gave me and climbed onto the bike.
He followed suit, still glaring daggers at Zero, so I raised my visor before leaning up and whispering in his ear.
“How about you start this bad boy, get it rumbling between my thighs, and ride me until I beg you to stop and… ride me.” If the way I felt his body shudder where my legs framed his hips and my breasts pressed intimately against his back was any indication, those words had done the trick.
Next stop, anywhere away from Brett Calloway.
Inferno revved the engine just like I’d hoped. I slid my arms around his waist, then just to drive my point home, gave his cock a hard squeeze before he took off.
We rolled through the city with purpose.
Nashville’s sprawl faded in the mirrors behind us and the landscape shifted from potholes and billboards to squat barns and pastures cut by wire fence.
The bike ran smooth, engine heat and his body heat keeping me warm and engaged as the motor vibrated through me.
It struck me how a welcome calm settled over me, as though nothing else mattered but the moment and the man in my arms. My body started to let go for the first time since -- honestly?
Since before Brett ever entered my life.
The ride east up Highway 70 was the best medicine I’d had in months.
Nobody texted or called. Inferno and I didn’t speak, obviously.
I had my visor up just enough to let in the crisp, autumn air.
The throb of the engine and the man in control of it all was hard and steady right in front of me.
Out here, nothing mattered but the wild hum of steel under us and the long ribbon of highway in front of us.
A stretch of two-lane blacktop curved up and around, through trees thick enough to swallow the road.
The air up here smelled different. Sure, the scents and sounds of civilization still filtered through nature, but every time I left the city and came to scenic places in the mountains, it always amazed me how much fresher the air was, how much bluer the sky seemed, and how so very peaceful the whole place felt.
After a steady climb up the long mountain highway, we stopped at an overlook.
He pulled up to the guardrail on a wide shoulder observers often used to catch a view or a picnic.
Inferno killed the bike and swung his leg over, offering me a hand before he climbed off himself.
The man always did that, never assuming I wanted help, just offering if I wanted. I always took his hand.
Silence washed over me like a soothing blanket.
The city was gone to nothing but a faint haze in the low spots of the valley.
The sun was past its peak, throwing shadows across the valley and turning the river to a winding, glistening silver road.
I braced my hands on the edge of the rail and looked out, just breathing and taking in the view.
Inferno stood beside me, one arm wrapped around my waist but didn’t speak for the longest time as we gazed out over the tree below us. When he did, it wasn’t what I expected. “You want the truth of what happened? For me to go to prison.” His tone was casual and conversational, but quiet.
“Only if you want to tell me. It’s not going to change my feelings for you.”