Cowboy Bikers MC #10 by Esther E. Schmidt
CHAPTER TWO
– FENNA –
The sun hits my face and I slowly awake. I rub my eyes and hiss at the pain flaring in my head. The turn of events of last night slowly come back to me. Shit. Someone grabbed my hair and knocked me into a wall.
“Ouch,” I groan and a low chuckle catches my attention.
My heart slams against my rib cage and I scoot back against the headboard with a hand against my chest, taking in the large frame of a man sitting in the loveseat in the corner. I quickly recognize Redding, the bartender from last night who was kind enough to bring me home.
I take a deep breath and shove the fear away. Dammit. For a moment I thought my ex was crazy enough to sneak into this place. Maybe he was the one who knocked me into the wall, though for both things he doesn’t have a solid reason. If anything, he would be on his knees begging.
Well, he might be getting more than a bit desperate because I have been ignoring him, but he was never violent. I was the one who broke up with him a few weeks ago. Well, not so much a break up other than catching him in our bedroom with another man while he was on his knees getting whipped. He was choking on the ball gag in his mouth when he saw me standing in the doorway.
I thought it was pretty obvious our relationship was over right then and there. Though, all the missed calls and texts shows he thinks otherwise. I moved in with my parents and a few days later my grandmother had a bad fall and died.
I just want to start over and focus on myself for once. Not to mention the pressure of my parents telling me I can’t move into my grandmother’s place by myself, making the turmoil of my life complete.
“How’s the head?” Another raspy chuckle flows through the air and he adds, “When you’re not touching it that is.”
“When I’m not touching it,” I echo and swing my legs off the mattress.
Last night I changed into yoga pants and a large t-shirt to get comfortable. I always sleep naked but with Redding’s unrelenting demand to watch over me–to make sure I didn’t have a concussion–I opted to wear clothes.
It’s the safe option when you have a sexy, handsome man with you in your bedroom.
“Okay, coffee and then you have to leave,” I tell him on half a yawn.
Redding rises from the seat and stretches his hands over his head and I can’t help but watch as his shirt rides up and the V those sculpted men have appears from right above his low riding jeans.
His shirt is unbuttoned and showing part of a tattoo on his chest, add the short trimmed beard, penetrating eyes filled with the same desire that’s flowing through me as he licks his bottom lip as if he wants to devour me. Damn. Sexy. Just…wow.
Yes, he definitely has to leave. I’m at a point in my life where I need space to be me for a change and not have anyone else in my life; I have too much baggage and pressure from outside influences as it is.
Oh, but that kiss last night. I couldn’t help myself when he mentioned the chick wanting him and how he needed my help to rescue him from her advances. I simply indulged and took what I wanted. I mean, what sane woman would turn down to kiss a handsome as hell guy? It’s a “once in a lifetime” thing.
“Rethinking me leaving or giving a real relationship a go instead of the fake one we invented yesterday?” Redding says with laughter overtaking his voice. “Because I’m all for getting real and committed. The way you’re eating me up with your eyes, I’d say we share the same mindset.”
I drag my gaze away from the impressive bulge in his jeans. Yes. I was checking out where the V led to. Ugh. This is why I swore off everything; too distracting. Not to mention, the first and last boyfriend I had cheated on me, the weird image of catching him is still vividly branded on my brain.
It doesn’t make a difference if he cheated on me with a man. Weirdly enough catching him in the act didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. It made me realize I didn’t exactly love the guy. I mean, I didn’t cry my heart out after I caught him but maybe I was too distracted to be sad and brokenhearted. Mainly because I was pissed as hell because the next day I discovered he also cleared out my bank account.
Need I mention we just moved in together and I gave up my apartment? Yes. Life sucked big time a week ago and then it sucked even more when I received the call about my grandmother taking a bad fall and her passing right after.
Last night was the kick-off to my new start with me moving into my grandmother’s house and saying goodbye to my friends who were driving back to the city after helping me. And then the flow of male attention started at the bar until this fine specimen standing in front of me helped me out with becoming my fake boyfriend.
Either this town has a lack of women or some men are just desperate for a hookup. Maybe there was something in the air last night at the bar. Hell, it might have been “Let’s pull Fenna’s leg” day to welcome me into the insanity that’s this town. It’s basically the reason why I told the guy flirting with me I was knocked-up by Redding and not available.
Maybe that’s just the thing I need. “I should keep you around so no one bugs me,” I blurt.
He takes a step forward, a sexy grin sliding over his face and I quickly shoot my hand forward.
“Not for sex,” I squeak, and I can practically hear my pussy cry her slutty heart out.
One of his eyebrows slowly raises. “As a friend?”
“The one from last night,” I confirm. “I think it will make things easier. If you don’t mind. We could do a fake, friendly breakup in a few weeks and stay friends. I could really use a friend right now, being new in town and all. But the load of hookup advances I received at the bar last night was ridiculous. I just like to catch my breath and be left alone. Plus, if my ex does show up or was the one who knocked me into a wall, it would make him back off to know I have a new boyfriend and have moved on.”
“Well, you kinda already sealed the deal when you told my brothers you were carrying my baby in your belly and I in return mentioned you were my old lady.” He’s grinning way too self-assured if you ask me. “But you do need to explain about your ex, because if the fucker was the one who hurt you he’d do best to disappear or I’ll gladly help him along.”
I can feel my eyes widen from his anger toward my ex but then his other words settle. “Your brothers. But they don’t look like you.” I wince and add, “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.”
He holds up his hand and then taps the patch on his leather cut. “Club brothers. The ranch functions also as our clubhouse.”
“Cowboy biker boys, like Grams mentioned,” I muse and he nods in agreement.
“Old ladies are treated with respect and no one dares to bother them or the whole MC will rip them apart.”
Relief floods me. “Perfect,” I sigh but then quickly realize. “Unless you already have a girlfriend or want another one. I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. I just want to be left alone to focus on myself and my new business. My parents intend to come over some time soon and then they will question if me moving here all by myself was wise. And I really don’t need the insecurity or self-doubt. They’ve been questioning my sanity ever since I decided to start a new business here by myself. They also think I am hiding from men and must be scarred for life and how I should find the right man and open myself up for a new relationship. But I’m done. And I’m not broken. Absolutely not. I just want to catch my breath and focus on what I think matters. Besides…men are dicks and I don’t want to be tied down to anyone at this point in my life, but I hate the fact my parents worry about me. And to be completely honest? I don’t know anyone here and I’m all alone. My friends left last night and I could really use someone I can call who is close enough.”
All good reasons, right? Besides, this man is safe enough because he knew my grandmother and is my neighbor.
“What happened?” he questions.
My forehead furrows and it freaking hurts so I quickly stop frowning. “What do you mean?”
“What did your dick of an ex do?” he clarifies.
“I need coffee for this conversation,” I grumble and stalk out of the bedroom and head for the kitchen.
Standing on my tiptoes, I lean over the sink and open the kitchen window.
I curl my tongue back, put my index and ring finger into my mouth, and give a sharp whistle. Pulling my fingers out of my mouth, I bellow, “Good morning, Purdy. How are ya, babe?”
The miniature horse that once belonged to my grandmother throws her head up and neighs.
“Fuck, that’s cute,” Redding says from right beside me.
My heart races due to his closeness and I drop the window, quickly stepping away and get busy making coffee.
Distracting myself I tell him, “She’s a miniature therapy horse. She was born right here. Grams raised and trained her and demanded I take her with me when I left for my internship with a therapy horse instructor. I finished my internship three months ago but I stayed to expand my experience. Grams was the one who made me sign up after I got my Bachelor’s degree in psychology. She knew I wanted to combine a future job with therapy horses. Then my boyfriend cheated on me, Grams died…so, I quit my job and moved back here. I don’t need to work with the inheritance she left me. Truth be told? I want to do what Grams once did with what she left me: breed therapy horses and train them. I have the qualifications and I was already doing it but as a job, for someone else. Now I get to do it by myself. But again, my parents don’t think I can handle living here by myself and then last night one guy after the other asked me out and then you interfered and I just think it would make my life easier for now.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “If I say yes, will you stop rambling and breathe so you can relax?”
“Yes.” I release a deep sigh. “So, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah. But the whole fake relationship does need a few ground rules and effort to make it believable.”
I narrow my eyes. “Such as?”
“Kissing. Holding hands. Small touches in public, that kind of stuff. And we need to spend time together. But…I might as well come clean when I say I’d fucking like to have you as mine. For fucking real, no fake shit, ‘cause this instant connection between us feels good and right. You’re gorgeous and our kiss was damn phenomenal. Most of my brothers have an old lady and it’s no fun during barbecues and such, and we have a lot of that shit coming up so I need you there for me as well. It’s a two-way street, right?”
I bite my bottom lip and start to think this might be more complicated than I thought it would be. And did he say he wants us to be real instead of fake?
“Come on, you said it yourself, you’re alone here and the MC is filled with old ladies. You’ll fit right in and have a bunch of friends. Hey, my prez’s old lady and my VP’s old lady are vets, you’ll mingle and have great contacts. Not to mention, I’ve been studying veterinary medicine and have spent time being groomed by a farrier, I’m totally useful to have around if you’re breeding horses. See? Two way street with all kind of benefits.”
“Fine,” I mutter and reach for the cabinet with the mugs but Redding beats me to it and grabs two mugs to place them on the counter.
“I don’t know why she would always place those things so damn high. Your grandmother always made me grab them when she made me tea.”
Sadness and happiness from the reminder of something so uniquely Grams hits me all at once and I choke on half a sob, half a laugh.
“Aw, fuck,” Redding grumbles and he pulls me into his body. “There, see? Fake boyfriend hugs to the rescue.”
Okay, now I’m fully laughing out loud. I have my fists full of his leather cut and pull him close, taking in his scent. Leather, clean yet spicy, something herbal, and all male. His lips brush the top of my head and I close my eyes for a moment to take a deep breath. Instantly I start to relax; this is exactly what I needed.
“Thank you,” I sincerely tell him. “I really needed that.”
“You and me both.” He places another kiss on the top of my head. “Now get me some coffee because my dick likes this hugging a little too much and isn’t aware of the whole fake deal we have going on between us.”
I can feel what he’s talking about and yet I don’t have it in me to move.
“Or not and we can take this to the bedroom. I could also toss you on the counter, spread your legs and have your pussy for breakfast.”
Tingles spread hot through my body and I have to step away from him. I clear my throat and completely ignore his dirty talk. In the blink of an eye, I have coffee sitting in front of us and I stare into the mug as if it has all the answers I need in life.
“Any plans for today?” Redding questions.
“The stallion I bought is coming today. He’s from the same bloodlines as Purdy. I also bought two mares, one is coming next week and I have to make arrangements to pick up the other one. I don’t have a trailer, it’s on my long lists of things I need to do and buy.”
“This is something for the long run, buying miniature horses to breed with and then train them while in the meantime you can work with Purdy,” he muses.
“Yes, and I’m not going to let anything distract me or hold me back from reaching my business goals. Having you as my fake boyfriend will help to keep me focused and I don’t have to explain myself to my parents or anyone else for that matter. They will be relieved to know someone is watching out for me. And if Pierre shows up, I can tell him to piss off because I’ve moved on. If last night at the bar was any indication with those men asking if I wanted a drink or join them for one, I’d say I’m freed of that too.”
Redding shakes his head. “There are a lot of bachelors in this town and when they see fresh meat, everyone wants in.”
“Literally,” I grumble and it makes him chuckle.
“Well, I’m glad we struck a deal but, like I said, it will take effort from both sides. You sitting at the bar for at least an hour when I’m working for instance. Kissing in public to show others to leave us alone.”
The reminder of our kiss sets my cheeks aflame. If we keep kissing like we did our first time it would be hard not to physically want him. But he’s right, the fake thing does need an aspect of reality to pull it off for everyone.
Nodding, I let him know, “I can commit to all that. I guess we will have to make adjustments to everything as we go. I’ll text you when my parents are coming to visit and such.”
He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Give me your number.”
I rattle it off and he quickly jabs the screen, letting my phone lying on the table in front of me light up.
He smirks at the image I have on my lock screen. “You know you have to replace it with one of mine now.”
I snort and quickly flip my phone screen down on the table. “In your dreams. No one can replace Bruce Willis.”
The image of Bruce is one from the movie Die Hard and it reminds me to keep going no matter what. It’s a movie I’ve seen a hundred times and still love to watch whenever I’m feeling out of sorts.
“As long as you don’t picture him when you’re kissing me.” He shrugs and I give him an aghast look while he simply shrugs, mouth twitching as he adds, “Fake or not, I have standards.”
A laugh bubbles free and I stand to get myself another cup of coffee. I’m surprised to be this comfortable with a man I just met. On the other hand, he knew my grandmother and we are after all neighbors.
“I admire Bruce for a lot of things, but don’t worry…if the kiss was anything like the one from yesterday, there won’t be time to think of anything at all,” I blurt and could smack my own head for being honest.
“Then we’re on the same page,” he murmurs from right beside me.
I slightly jump and he shakes his head as he places his hand on my hip. He towers over me with his massive height but I don’t feel threatened; my body has completely different ideas about his closeness.
“I’ll be back later today.” He keeps our gaze locked, ever so slowly descending his lips.
This might be a test to see if I pull back but the man did mention we had certain rules to live by. And I’m not ashamed to admit I crave his kiss. Shit. This whole fake thing is a disaster waiting to happen.
My eyes close and his mouth brushes against mine. His tongue nudges in between to gain access and I simply part my lips, welcoming his taste as it explodes in heat, leaking into my veins.
Dammit. This kiss feels too real for a fake boyfriend but I can’t find it in me to care when a guttural rumble of approvement erupts from his body. He slows down the kiss but I bury my fist in his leather cut, taking control and swirl my tongue against his a few more times before tearing my mouth away.
Yeah, fake boyfriend my ass; we’re doomed if we keep kissing and will end up between the sheets naked sooner rather than later. And somehow the thought doesn’t bother me at all.
