Everlyn
Standing here, trying to help Allegra, my best friend, navigate the heartbreaking task of arranging for her beloved grandfather’s funeral was hard.
I’d known and loved Jeremiah Moore. When Allegra and I became friends in high school and she brought me home to meet him, he’d treated me like another granddaughter.
By then, I’d lost all of my family. My grandparents on both sides had died either before I was born or when I was a baby. My dad hadn’t stuck around after I was born, so I had no clue if he was even alive. My mom died when I was twelve from an undiagnosed heart condition.
Jeremiah and Allegra had helped fill the hole in me that yearned for love and family.
I often wondered what my life would’ve been like if I hadn’t had them.
When he learned I lived in a group home, Jeremiah immediately began the process of becoming my legal guardian.
He made sure that when it was time for me to go to college, I had the same opportunities as his granddaughter.
Allegra and I knew he hadn’t been feeling well for a few months.
We kept trying to get him to go to the doctor, but he refused.
Jeremiah was a stubborn man, which at times worked in his favor and at other times didn’t.
When the call came that he was in the hospital, dying, it had wrecked me.
I’d rushed there to be at his side with Allegra.
He hung in there for two days. We got to say our goodbyes and spend a little more time with him, but it wasn’t enough.
Allegra had been a crying mess since that call to come to the hospital. I didn’t blame her. Inside, I was crying and screaming, but on the outside, I couldn’t let the tears out. Some would call me cold. If only they knew how I felt on the inside. I was a volcano waiting to erupt.
However, today, instead of focusing on what the funeral director said, I’d been standing here, half-absorbing what he said, trying to take it all in because I knew Allegra wasn’t, when he addressed someone behind us.
The first thing that caught my attention was the name Zephyr.
That wasn’t a typical name. It was even more unusual than mine.
Then came the voice—low, growly, shiver-inducing.
I swear bolts of something moved through my body.
I turned to see who owned that name and voice and was struck speechless.
Thank goodness my mouth stayed shut, though I don’t know how.
Standing there, towering over us, was a man right out of a wet dream.
He had sun-kissed skin with crinkles from squinting into the sun around his eyes.
He had long, straight hair that hung to his mid-back.
It was light brown with dark gold streaks.
That hair at the corners of his widow’s peak had a braid on each side with a piece of leather wrapped in the strands.
The bottom half of his face was covered in a short beard and mustache in the same color as the hair on his head, though there were strands of red showing more predominantly there.
His eyes reminded me of dark denim. Full lips and a bold, manly nose completed his facial features.
What else stood out, though, was the circular tattoo on his left temple area and then the scar that ran from it down his face to about an inch from the outer corner of his mouth.
I wondered what had made it. The line was straight, as if a knife had done it.
He was dressed not in dress clothes like Myron’s but in a short-sleeved button-down shirt, jeans, and boots.
Over the shirt was a leather vest. As I examined it more closely, I noticed the words Zephyr and Medic on the front.
There were other patches sewn on it that I had no idea what they represented.
As those sank in, I suddenly knew why he had such an unusual name and wore the vest. The memory of a conversation I’d overheard came back.
One of Jeremiah’s friends had told him that the funeral home on the outskirts of Asgard was owned and operated by a biker club.
I strained to recall the club’s name. Damn it! Why couldn’t I remember?
I recalled Jeremiah telling his friend not to believe everything he heard, and that he wasn’t about to ruin someone’s business on hearsay. There had been mention of other businesses owned by the bikers as well, but I hadn’t exactly cared at the time, so I hadn’t paid much attention.
Zephyr’s arms were loaded with muscle and covered in tattoos.
His shoulders were wide, and everything gradually tapered from them to a trim waist and thighs that bulged underneath his jeans.
Heat filled me. I wanted to fan myself, but I resisted.
I’d look ridiculous doing it when the temperature inside was nice and cool.
I forced myself to look back at the director and listen to him speak.
We arranged to come in the next morning at nine o’clock to sit down and make the final arrangements.
We’d not only discuss what kind of service we wanted but also pick out the casket.
We caught them at the end of their workday.
When we finished arranging the appointment, Myron shook both our hands and escorted us to the door.
Right before we left, Zephyr called out.
“Drive safely, ladies. See you later.”
Allegra said, “Thank you.”
I nodded, but again I couldn’t seem to say anything.
We made it to my car and out of the heat. I was the one driving. I barely had the door closed, the engine on, and the air conditioner cranked up to cool off the interior before my friend started in.
“What the hell was that back there, Ever?”
“What do you mean?” I played dumb.
“You know what I mean. You hardly said a word after that man, Zephyr, came into the room. Why?”
“I was listening to the funeral director,” I replied.
“Listening and speaking at the same time has never been a challenge for you. You can do at least four or five things at once. Your multitasking abilities are crazy and have always been a source of envy and hatred for me. Try again. It was that big man throwing off enough vibes to scare most people to death.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing he runs a funeral home, isn’t it?” I smarted back.
“Don’t you dare think you’ll get me off the topic by making me laugh,” she cackled.
I let her regain control slowly. It was good to hear her laugh. The day had been crazy and hard.
“Okay, now, let’s start this again. It was he who left you speechless, wasn’t it?
God, I wish I had recorded it. No one who knows you will believe this story.
Nothing and no one makes you shut up. Did you see that hair?
His body? I wondered if he’d toss us over his shoulders and carry us out. Whew!”
A funny feeling in the pit of my stomach came to life as Allegra remarked about Zephyr and fanned herself. It took me a few moments to recognize what it was. I was jealous. I disliked my best friend saying things about him.
“Can we not talk about him?” I asked suddenly.
She paused, then groaned. “Don’t be upset. I don’t want him, not really. A man like him would scare me to death. I wouldn’t know how to handle him. But I can admit he’s hot in a dangerous, slightly rough, and brooding way. I could see you handling him.”
“No one is handling anyone. We were there to schedule the appointment,” I countered.
“But if you happen to find a sexy morsel, that makes it a bonus. If he interests you, why don’t you go for it?”
“For one thing, I never said he interested me. Secondly, it usually requires the guy to be interested back. I highly doubt I’m his kind of woman, Legra.”
“And what the hell does that mean? What do you believe is his type?”
“Well, in case you didn’t see it, he was wearing a leather vest. He’s a biker, as in a biker club.
I remember Jeremiah and one of his friends saying the funeral home is owned by a motorcycle club.
Men like him are into women who love to sleep around and look like a Barbie doll.
Those are the type of curves they want, all in the tits, not all the rest I have. ”
“You’ve never said anything negative to me about your body. You have loads of confidence and men want you constantly,” she fired back.
“I learned as a kid to embrace my body. Mom taught me that. And I know some guys like it. But I just don’t see him, a biker, being one. Now, can we please drop the topic? I doubt I’ll ever see him again. We have things to do at home before morning, and I’ve got to make a call tonight to my boss.”
She rolled her eyes, then sighed. “Fine, if you insist. But if you do see him again, you should throw yourself in his arms and rock his damn world. Once he gets a load of you, he’ll forget all about those other women. And then you’ll have another man panting after you.”
I reached over and lightly shoved at her arm. She swayed and laughed.
“You’re crazy,” I told her. It only made her cackle more.