Cowboy Bikers MC #10 by Esther E. Schmidt
CHAPTER ONE
– REDDING –
The music is flowing, people are chattering away, and you can feel the positive vibes flowing through the joint; a perfect Friday night at work if you ask me. Weston, Ewald, Roper, and Dinand are sitting at the end of the bar.
I enjoy bartending two or three nights a week as a change from the work around the ranch, it’s the reason why I’m tending bar tonight and not drinking a beer in front of it. The motorcycle club I’m a part of co-owns this bar but we are in fact located at a huge ranch where we breed livestock.
Longhorns and quarter horses mostly, but I recently bought an eight-year-old black Shire–a draught horse–for recreational use. She’s well over seventeen-hundred pounds and seventeen hands high.
I like massive things ‘cause I’m not exactly tiny myself. She’s a real sweetheart. I like riding her for my personal enjoyment, my very own special riding horse, and I named her Tiny for the hell of it.
“Would you like another beer as well, Prez?” I ask Weston, the president of the Iron Hot Blood MC, as I place a beer in front of my VP, Roper.
“Nah, I’m heading home.” Weston gets off his barstool. “Harlene just texted me, they’re done birthing a horse at the Dutron farm and are on their way back.”
Roper slides his beer toward Ewald. “Drink up, I’m heading out as well. My old lady was helping Prez’s old lady out and I’d like to be home before she gets there.”
They say their goodbyes and at the same time my eye catches a chick waving me over to get her order. I automatically let my gaze stray to the group of four women sitting at a table on the left. There’s one beauty who caught my attention the moment she walked into the bar over two hours ago.
If only she were to swing by the bar to give her order, but no such luck. Either her friends or the waitress have served her. I’ve seen a few guys in this bar walk up to her to offer her a drink but she, along with the rest of the women in her company, declined every single one.
She’s intriguing, that’s for sure. The woman ignites something inside me, something I’d like to explore to see what the hell it is. Reluctantly, I drag my gaze away from the beauty who is laughing at something one of her friends said and focus on the chick in front of me.
“Another soda with a lemon twist?” I ask.
With a photographic memory it’s easy to remember what face goes with what drink. Besides, this one has been coming in as a regular for the last couple of weeks whenever I’m working.
“You know me so well,” she says, a blush spreading over her cheeks.
I slide a polite, non-flirty smile in place and downplay her words by telling her, “Nah, I’m just good at remembering faces and drinks. It’s my job after all.”
“You’re so good at your job,” she gushes.
I internally wince when she presses her arms closer to her body in an effort to squeeze her boobs together–trying to charm me with her tits–while leaning over the bar. I might have picked up a woman or two when I just started working here, but I haven’t done it in quite some time.
There’s nothing worse than having clingy women return at the bar, thinking you’re gonna hook up. And this chick has been trying to get my attention for a few weeks now. I’ve been politely turning down each attempt but every time she’s been coming on stronger.
I guess it’s time to be explicit, bordering on rude, because being direct and politely turning her down doesn’t seem to be working. Turning away without answering, I get her drink and place it in front of her. She’s already placed the correct amount of cash on the counter along with a dollar tip.
There’s no need to count, I can tell in one glance and it’s all spare change because that takes me longer to grab instead of giving me fucking bills. I cover the coins with my hand and slide them over the counter onto my awaiting hand underneath. Who fucking cares if some end up on the floor, I’ll get them after closing. I don’t give her a second glance and throw the cash near the register.
I notice the black-haired beauty is finally strolling toward the bar. The other women she’s with have come over to order the drinks but it seems it’s her turn now. Fuck. A guy gives me his order while I see Ewald and Dinand take notice of her as well. The black-haired beauty’s eyes collide with mine and damn, it feels good to have her gaze on me.
“Be right there with you, beauty.” I shoot her a wink and a flirty smile because when it comes to this woman? I’m absolutely down to run into her a few more times, preferably between the sheets.
I’ve been observing her and everything I’ve noticed catches my attention. Quickly handing the guy his beer along with his change, I stroll over to where Ewald is fucking hitting on the black-haired beauty.
“Oh, come on, babe. I’ll worship your body all night long. I’m very giving, multiple orgasms for the both of us for sure.” Ewald gives her his panty dropping smile–one that works for him ninety-nine times out of a hundred–along with it.
Grinding my teeth, I place my hands on the counter, ready to lean in and tell my brothers to back off, but her reply to Ewald’s flirtations have me biting my lip to prevent laughter from ripping out.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. You see, the handsome bartender knocked me up and if I have sex with someone else it would freak me out. I’d feel like you’d be poking his baby with your rhythm stick and that’s just weird, don’t you think?”
She has a straight fucking face and both Ewald and Dinand slide their gaze from me to the woman and back. Her gorgeous face turns my way and the look she’s sporting instantly tells me she didn’t expect me to hear her statement.
It’s fucking hilarious because she’s telling my brothers I knocked her up while they know I don’t have an old lady, a piece on the side, or so much as had the time to get laid these past few months because I’ve been working non-stop.
It doesn’t prevent me from reaching out to take her hand in mine and bringing it toward my mouth to feather a kiss over her knuckles. Our eyes stay locked and I watch how a shiver overtakes her body while her eyes dilate. Fucking beautiful.
“Having fun, beauty?” I murmur.
She hums and leans toward me and I feel myself inching closer to her as if we’re magically drawn together.
I’m getting ready to fist her silky looking inky hair and slam my mouth over hers but Ewald snaps, “What the fuck, brother? How did you manage to knock-up this knockout?”
The woman winces and mouths, “Sorry.”
I keep my eyes on her when I tell him, “None of your business, Ewald. Now you know so keep away from my old lady, ya hear?”
Someone yells for a beer and I’m glad it’s almost closing time but I do need to handle the bar for twenty more minutes.
I lean in next to her ear. “No one will bother you now that my brothers know you’re mine, okay?”
“Okay.” That single word is spoken on a breath of relief and she adds, “I really needed that. It’s as if I have a sign on my head tonight that states I’m available for a one-night stand or something. All while I came here to spend some time with my friends before they returned home.”
“I could tell. Now, give me your order so you can bring the drinks back to your friends and enjoy the last twenty minutes we’re open.”
She gives me a smile and glances back at the table, which I now notice is empty. “They have a three-hour drive back home. I just moved here today and they helped, it’s why I asked them to stay for a few drinks to celebrate. I didn’t have anything in the house yet so we went here instead.”
“Good thing you did.” I’m still leaning close with my forearms on the bar and notice Dinand is rounding the bar to help a customer.
She bites her bottom lip and a hint of regret flashes in her eyes. I have no clue why until she suddenly blurts, “I’m not looking for a one-night stand, a date, or a relationship.”
The woman with her spare change orders is glancing at us through narrowed eyes and an idea comes to mind.
“You actually did me a favor and I wouldn’t mind for the whole fake pregnancy, girlfriend thing to continue. If you’re up for it,” I challenge with a raised eyebrow.
Her well-groomed eyebrows furrow in return and a wary look slides over her face. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m not up for a one-night stand either, and there’s this one chick who has been hanging around the bar for days and not getting the hint. I’ve politely declined her advances multiple times but she keeps trying. Maybe you could fake being my girlfriend a bit so she’ll finally back off and find someone else to focus on.”
Her hand slides to my neck and her fingers start to stroke my skin while she lets her gaze casually slide over the crowd.
“No need to ask who it is. Yikes. If looks could kill,” she murmurs. “She seems more like a crazy ex than a chick wanting to ask a stranger out for a date.”
“I don’t have crazy exes. The women I’ve been with knew the deal when I offer a good time.”
A soft chuckle reaches my ear over the loud music before she says, “Classy.”
“So, how about I give you a welcome to the neighborhood kiss?” Yeah, I’m brilliant. Screw my statement about not looking for a one-night stand. Besides, I wasn’t lying; I already found her because all I see is the gorgeous woman in front of me and for sure as shit I want more than one damn night. “Come on, it’s a good reason and it will probably fix my issue with the chick showing up every time I’m working.”
Plus, I’m dying to taste this beauty in front of me and I know I’m a damn good kisser so I might be able to persuade her into offering more than a mind-blowing kiss.
She crooks a finger at me. “Come here.”
I lean closer and the woman catches me by surprise when she brushes her mouth against mine. I wasn’t expecting her to simply give in to my crazy suggestion. Her damn tongue sneaks out and licks my bottom lip, softly sucking it inside her mouth and nibbling on it.
My brain feels like it’s short circuiting. My hand sneaks to the back of her neck, and I let my fingers slide through her hair. Just as I imagined–silky soft–and tighten my hand into a fist to guide her head and ravish her mouth.
Damn. What a fucking kiss. It’s rare to plunge into a deep sea of emotions without the will to swim; I just want to drown in the bliss she creates inside me. She completely takes me away from the world and I gladly let her. It’s only when I feel a slap on my back when I’m able to pull away from those lips of utter sin.
The woman’s eyes are dazed and there’s open lust swirling in her light hazel, scattered with golden flecks, eyes. Fuck. Talk about captivating. The soft dusk of freckles on the bridge of her nose, the tiny scar in her left eyebrow, are all details automatically branding my brain.
“Come on, Redding, a little help here,” Dinand grunts.
I let my thumb slide over her bottom lip. “If this was your idea of a fake kiss to ward off other chicks for me, I’m afraid to kiss you for real because you might suck my soul right out from under me.”
“Not a fake one. My Grams always used to say ‘if you’re doing something, make sure to do it right’,” she murmurs, eyes now set on my mouth but she shakes her head to clear it and glances around. “I guess we were successful.”
Her grandmother’s statement sounds vaguely familiar. I look over my shoulder and don’t see the spare change chick lurking around the bar.
“I guess we were.” I make sure no one can hear me except her when I say, “I’m Redding Vos. A bit overdue but you gotta know your fake man’s name.”
She chuckles. “Fenna Lauderton, pleasure to meet you.”
“Lauderton,” I repeat. “Family of Betsy Lauderton?”
“My grandmother.” Grief takes over her features. “She passed away two weeks ago.”
Fuck. No wonder the quote from her grandmother sounded vaguely familiar. The old woman was our neighbor.
“I’m sorry to hear that. She was a kind woman. Her property is right behind ours. I’ve met her more than a few times but hadn’t seen her in over three weeks give or take.”
“She had a bad fall,” Fenna croaks. “She…I inherited the house. We were close when I was growing up but she demanded I take an internship out of state.”
“Hey.” I reach out to cup the side of her face, letting my thumb swipe away the tear sliding over her cheek. “Sounds like she wanted you to follow your dreams. Don’t dwell on what ifs and just remember her wishes for you to live your life. Regrets hold no place when death intervenes. You just keep going, okay? Betsy was the kind of woman who would go on no matter what. Hell, from what I know about her? The old woman still worked on her ranch each and every day while she was way over eighty-years-old. She didn’t want our cowboy biker boys anywhere near her ranch to help out either, her words, not mine. And believe me when I say we tried to help more than a few times but all we got was the choice of drinking a cup of tea with her or having a broom up our ass because she would chase us off her property if we wanted to intervene with her workload.”
Fenna barks out a laugh and it’s ear stroking, something I feel deep in my groin.
“Definitely something she would say and do.”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “Which is why I had tea more than once at her house.”
A soft chuckle flows from her and I drop my hand and rap the bar with my knuckles. “Sit tight, I’ll close up the bar and take you home.”
She shakes her head, this time in denial. “I can manage.”
“I bet you can, but it’s my way of saying thanks for the lovely talk and your help. Besides.” I lower my voice to only tell her, “Any fake boyfriend would make sure his girl gets home safe. And my house is close to yours so it’s no bother.”
She agrees and I take the next ten minutes to round up the bar with Dinand and Ewald’s help. There are only a handful of customers left who are about to leave when I let my gaze swing toward the hallway where the bathrooms are.
Fenna has disappeared into that direction for a bathroom break but she hasn’t returned yet. I sure hope she didn’t sneak out the emergency exit. The woman intrigues me but I don’t want her to feel obligated to stick with me or hightail out of the bar to avoid me taking her home.
Concern overrules when I walk into the hallway. The first thing I notice is the emergency exit door is standing ajar and so is the one from the bathroom. Throwing a glance into the bathroom, I curse and bellow Dinand’s name before rushing inside.
Fenna is lying face down onto the tiled floor. When I squat down next to her, I can see a cut on her forehead and the corner of the wall has a spot of red at the same height as she is.
“What the fuck happened?” Dinand asks, standing in the middle of the doorway.
“Blood over there.” I point at the wall. “The emergency exit is open too; whoever has done this fled the scene already.”
Fenna groans and starts to move around.
“Careful,” I tell her and guide her into a sitting position. “Do you know what happened?”
She groans again and lets her eyes focus on her surroundings. “Someone attacked me from behind, I think. Pushed me head first against the corner of that wall.” She tries to touch her forehead and skims over the wound, her fingers pull back with blood on them. “Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” I tell her and swoop her into my arms.
“Head home, brother,” Dinand says. “We’ll lock up here and we’ll find out later who attacked your old lady. I’ll make sure to text Prez, okay?”
I give him a tight nod and carry her out the door.
