Chapter 3
Chapter three
Shea
I was kissing my friend.
And it was fucking incredible.
Wasn’t this supposed to be weird and awkward? Shouldn’t I be grossed out right now?
Instead, I melted at the slick heat of Trooper’s tongue gliding against mine. Curling my fingers around the back of his neck, I held him in place, unwilling to let him go. He slid his hand lower, tucked into the back pocket of my jeans, squeezing my ass.
I moaned into his mouth and I felt the smug bastard smile against my lips.
What seemed like an eternity later, Trooper broke away, with a teasing gleam in his eyes.
“Hey, honey, I’m home,” he said.
I struggled to form a coherent response through the soupy fog of delirium that clouded my brain.
Trooper was matching the act I’d put on over the phone. Pretending to be my boyfriend.
But that kiss…that kiss was real.
Then I remembered the whole reason why I’d called Trooper in the first place. Tearing my attention away from him, I glanced over my shoulder to the other side of the shop.
Kyle Ritter’s gray eyes were hooded, his jaw clenched as he watched us. His hands were fisted at his sides and every muscle in his body was taut as a bowstring, ready to snap.
“Well,” he said in an icy voice. “It looks like it’s getting a little crowded around here. Maybe I’ll come back for my tattoo another time.”
Nearly every week for the past six months, Ritter had been saying the same thing. I didn’t begrudge indecisive clients. It was better to procrastinate and put it off than to get permanent ink that you hated on sight.
But I didn’t get an indecisive vibe from Ritter.
He was lurking. Today, it finally weirded me out too much and I had to call in the cavalry. As much as I hated to admit it.
Ritter went slinking out the door without another word. As soon as he was gone, I released a breath of relief. Trooper let his hands slide away from me. Immediately, I missed his heat, his touch, his taste.
Fuck, that kiss was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
“I’m flattered that you’re hitting on me,” Trooper quipped. “But I have a feeling you’re just using me for your own personal gains. Not that I’m complaining.”
I punched him in the shoulder.
“Shut up. You’re the one who marched in here and kissed me, no questions asked.”
He smirked and crossed his arms.
“I didn’t hear you protesting. In fact, you kissed me back.”
My face went red and I turned away before he could see it. I caught a glimpse of Raine and she fanned herself with a wink.
Damn it. She was never going to let me hear the end of this one.
“Hey.” There was no teasing in Trooper’s voice this time. He cupped my elbow and pulled me around to face him again. “Tell me what’s going on. Who was that guy? Did you know him? Ex-boyfriend who won’t take no for an answer?”
I sighed and shook my head.
“He’s…just a guy. Six months ago, Ritter stopped by for a tattoo.
He didn’t know what he wanted, so I did what I always do with prospective clients.
I let him look through my portfolio to see if he found anything he liked.
But he never made a decision, and he’s been coming here nearly every week since then. ”
Trooper nodded without interruption. I shrugged and continued.
“He seemed a little socially awkward and lonely. Like he didn’t have anyone to talk to. But that’s not a crime.”
“Until he started getting fucking creepy,” Raine piped up.
Trooper frowned and glanced at her.
“Creepy? In what way?”
“He left his phone here by accident one day,” Raine replied. “But it was angled a certain way, and partially hidden. He totally left it behind on purpose. When Shea found it, the phone had recorded ten minutes of video already.”
Trooper’s eyes darkened as he shifted his attention to me.
“Did you tell the cops?”
“I filed a report. Not that it did any good. They said they would look into it. I never heard a peep though.”
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his mouth.
“Did this Ritter guy do anything else weird?”
I exchanged a quick look with Raine. She arched her eyebrows, as if to say, if you don’t tell him, I will.
“When I showed up to open the shop one day,” I said. “There was a stack of deliveries at the door. No one was around. It was first thing in the morning. Nice and quiet. Then…Ritter was just standing there. Too close. I swear that he—”
I broke off, biting the inside of my cheek. It wasn’t like Ritter ever laid his hands on me or threatened me in any way. He was just…strange.
“What?” Trooper prompted, tilting his head to meet my gaze.
“Don’t laugh,” I said firmly.
“Do I look like I’m laughing right now, Shea?”
No. Definitely not. For the most part, Trooper didn’t take life too seriously. But when it came to situations like this—when shit hit the fan—he was dead serious in a heartbeat.
“I swear that Ritter tried to…smell me,” I admitted, resisting the urge to cringe at how crazy and paranoid it sounded when I said it aloud. “And now that I look back on all these little things adding up, he’s giving off vibes from a true crime documentary.”
Trooper growled.
“Great. So, he’s a freaky little pervert. Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
I groaned and rubbed my forehead.
“Because I’m a big girl and I wanted to handle my shit on my own. Besides, I’m a tattoo artist, Trooper. Do you have any idea how many people get fucking weird and inappropriate when they’re half naked in my chair under the gun? It comes with the territory.”
“You called me today though,” Trooper pointed out. “What changed?”
I swallowed hard at the memory and faltered. I could have easily run Ritter off with the shotgun I kept in the broom closet, but Trooper was the one I reached out to when I needed comfort and support.
Raine spoke before I could answer.
“He cracked a joke about how wonderful it would be to keep Shea all to himself. Like a butterfly, with pretty pinned wings.”
A shiver rippled down my spine. Ritter said a lot of bizarre things that weren’t socially acceptable, but most of the time, it simply landed like a bad joke. I tried my best to sweep it under the rug and move on.
This time though…this time, it rattled me.
Trooper’s scowl deepened.
“I’ll talk to my club about putting a biker on you around the clock for protection. For now, Hades will keep an eye out until you close up shop tonight.”
“Trooper, no, that’s not necessary—”
“Too bad,” he cut in, leaning close.
For a wild split second, I was absolutely sure that he would kiss me again.
Then Trooper hooked a finger into the belt loop of my jeans with an affectionate tug.
“I don’t care if you fight me about it, Shea. This was a direct threat. I’m your friend and I don’t take that shit lightly.”
He had a point. Ritter wasn’t backing off. And if the cops wouldn’t help, this was my next best option.
Then Trooper pulled away. I felt a pang of loss. My lips still burned from the scorching kiss, and I wondered how long it would be before the memory of it would stop replaying in my mind, over and over.
“What about you, Raine?” Trooper asked. “Are you holding up okay?”
She tilted her head, tossing a lock of her golden brown hair over her shoulder.
“Well, I can’t really tell. You should probably make out with me, too. Then I could give you a more definitive answer.”
Trooper chuckled. “Do you really think that would do the trick? A little tongue to jog your memory?”
Raine nodded, sagely.
“Oh, definitely.”
Jealousy bristled along my spine, but I chastised myself for it. Trooper and I were…nothing, technically. Just friends. One kiss—whether it was real or not—didn’t mean I had any claim on him.
Trooper cast a final glance over his shoulder in my direction.
“Call me again if anything gives you bad vibes.”
“I have a shotgun in the broom closet, remember?”
He flashed me a smile as he backed up toward the door, twisting the knob.
“I know. Call me anyway. I want to enjoy the show when you wipe the floor with him.”
I watched Trooper leave, stepping outside to speak to Hades in the parking lot. Raine clucked her tongue and planted a hand on her hip, fixing me with a stern look.
“Did you really think I would poach your man right in front of you like that?”
“He’s not my man,” I said, turning away.
She huffed with amusement.
“I know for a fact you did not forget that kiss already.”
My fingers strayed to my lips and Trooper’s phantom heat lingering there.
No. I wouldn’t be forgetting that kiss any time soon.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully.
Hades remained in the parking lot, hanging out near his bike.
Raine brought him a few drinks from our mini fridge to stay hydrated and chatted for a bit.
But she had learned a long time ago that flirting with him was useless.
He was still devoted to his ex-wife and his eyes never strayed to anyone else, even for a moment.
Thankfully, none of my clients would be scared off by a biker in the vicinity, so he didn’t drive away any business. And the permanent scowl seemingly etched into his features ensured that everyone was on their best behavior around me.
After locking up, I waved to him as I climbed into my Jeep. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement and I thought that would be the end of it. But when I turned out of the parking lot, Hades was in my rearview mirror. He followed me all the way back to my rental house.
Pulling into my driveway, I spotted a figure seated on my porch bench, shrouded in the shadows of late evening. My heart lurched against my ribs for a moment.
Until the figure rose and stepped into the light.
I released a breath of relief when I recognized Otis “Hillbilly” Parker, President of the Reckless Order MC and father to my best friend, Lila. I had no doubt that he was here because Trooper told him about the incident with Ritter.
Climbing out of my Jeep, I tucked my keys into my back pocket.
“You really shouldn’t sneak up on a woman like that,” I said. “What if I had pepper spray? Or a baseball bat?”
“Then I hope you would use it and ask questions later, just like I taught you,” Hillbilly said.
I sighed. The tension of the day was finally beginning to ease and I felt exhausted. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until I opened the shop in the morning. Hillbilly retrieved a beer from a small cooler on the bench and held it out.
“Trooper told me about the creep, Ritter,” he said with that smooth country drawl. “So, I thought you could use a drink.”
Trudging up the steps, I accepted it and plopped down on the bench.
“I didn’t want to bring your club into this.”
He shrugged and took a seat beside me.
“If you brought us in earlier, we might have been able to bite it in the ass before it became an ordeal in the first place.”
I grumbled and popped the top off my beer bottle, swallowing the wonderfully cool liquid.
“You’re staying with Lila tonight,” Hillbilly said in a firm tone, indicating the decision was not up for debate.
I frowned and flicked my beer cap at him. He chuckled and caught it easily.
When I was eight years old, my dad walked out. It threw me for a loop when he was there one day and gone the next. He never talked about leaving, and he never contacted me or my mother again. It was like he simply vanished into thin air—packed his shit and disappeared.
And it broke my heart into a thousand pieces because I loved him more than life itself.
Hillbilly became the closest thing to a father figure that I had in this world. I was practically the same age as his daughter, Lila, who was just as strong-willed as I was. So he didn’t mind taking an additional wild teenage girl under his wing in an effort to keep me out of trouble.
But there were times when I realized that I wasn’t actually part of their family. Like the legal battle during Hillbilly’s divorce with his ex-wife, when they shuttled Lila back and forth between them for joint custody.
No one argued over who would take me for the weekend.
And my mother…by the time I turned sixteen, we were practically strangers to each other. She was too preoccupied with the parade of boyfriends through her bedroom, and she didn’t have time for me.
“That sounds like you’re ordering me around,” I countered, teasing.
“Well, the other option is that half of my club marches into your house and bunks down for the night,” Hillbilly said idly.
“Trooper wanted to put one biker on you for protection. But I’ll take it a step further and put six men on you.
Then they will follow you around like a pack of wolves until this Ritter punk gets spooked and finally leaves you alone. ”
“You know I would hate that. I don’t like being crowded.”
“Exactly. You’re too stubborn to ask for help, Shea,” Hillbilly said. “So, you don’t have to ask. I’m butting in. We all are. Just humor an old man, would you?”
Wrinkling my nose, I took another swig of my beer. I was too tired to argue with him tonight anyway. Maybe I could try again in the morning.
Although deep down, it was a relief to know that I wouldn’t face Ritter alone. I had friends who were willing to have my back.
“You’re not that old,” I pointed out.
“My knees would say otherwise,” Hillbilly replied. “And I know you bastards are planning a surprise party for my seventieth birthday.”
“Who told you?” I demanded, grateful for a lighter change of subject.
His eyes twinkled and he tipped his head back, draining the last of his beer.
“An old dog like me might not be able to learn new tricks, but he can still sniff out trouble when he catches a whiff of it. You youngsters aren’t as sneaky as you think you are.”
I squinted at him.
“Keely blabbed, didn’t she?”
Hillbilly breathed a faint laugh.
“That sweet little thing can’t keep a secret for shit, bless her heart.”