CHARLOTTE: Soul Sisters - Book One (The Soul Sisters 1) Page 4

  “I like you, Scarlett. You’ve got a real take no shit attitude. I love a woman with balls.”

  “A woman with balls. Right,” Trick murmurs under his breath and lifts his beer bottle to his mouth.

  “Well, not literally, asshole,” Daytona snaps over his shoulder, then turns to me. “But I think the lady knows what I mean.”

  “So, were you just out for a ride and stopped in for a drink?” I can only hope.

  “Nope. Came to see you, Cherry.”

  “Cherry?”

  He gestures toward my body. “Those are cherries on your dress, aren’t they? The name suits you, so that’s what I’m gonna call you.”

  “First of all, they’re not cherries, they’re roses, and second, not if you want me to answer.”

  “Hmm, no. Rose doesn’t suit you at all. Cherry is much better. Sexier too. And you got a rockin’ body, you need a sexy name.”

  I notice he blows past the whole part where I don’t want to be called that name. “I’m sorry, but were you dropped on your head as an infant?”

  He blinks at me, then laughs, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “You’re a real firecracker, doll.”

  “I’m not your doll. What is it with you and all the nicknames?”

  “You want to give me one, darlin’? I’m up for it. I’m all about fair play.”

  His VP behind him chokes on his beer.

  “The only one that comes to mind at the moment is donkey’s butt.”

  Trick bursts out laughing. “Think she just called you an ass, prez.”

  “I heard her.” Daytona stares at me, no humor now. “I’m just tryin’ to be friendly, Scarlett. But maybe I was wrong about you. I guess you’re the kind of girl who doesn’t like joking or teasing. Must be a dreary life, living like that, never having any fun.”

  “I have fun, thank you.”

  “When’s the last time?”

  “It’s none of your business. Look, I really have to get back to work. It was nice meeting you. Thanks for the drink.” I drain my glass and move to slip off the barstool, which only leaves me pressed up against Daytona when he steps closer.

  “I’ve never been in this bar before. Now I wish I’d come by sooner, Cherry. You thought about what my VP told you the other night?”

  My chin comes up. “The bar is not for sale.”

  “Let’s just have another drink, doll, and talk about it.”

  “I’m not your doll.”

  “What’s your price?”

  “It’s not for sale.”

  He winds a curl of my hair around his finger. “Everything’s for sale. I learned that a long time ago. Come on, have another drink.”

  “No. Hell no. Fuck off. That clear enough for you?”

  He tightens his hold on my hair. “You’re not bein’ very nice.”

  “And you’re being an asshole. Let me go.”

  He stares at me for a moment, like he’s testing me, or maybe letting me know I’m at his mercy or something. Once his point is made, he releases me. I slip past him and disappear into the crowd. I hide in the back office until there’s a knock on the door.

  “Scarlett, they’re gone.” It’s Shelly’s voice.

  I open the door, and she slips in. A guitar rife wails in the background. Someone’s doing a cover of Bon Jovi’s Wanted Dead or Alive. The door shuts, and the sound muffles. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging out there. God, I never thought I was such a coward, but those guys scare the crap out of me.”

  “No worries. They downed their drinks and pulled out. It’s dying down now. Pete’s got it covered.” She sits. “You want to talk?”

  “Nope.”

  She ignores my answer. “It was good to hear you sing again. The song surprised me. I thought maybe you’d stick to something happy, but you really poured all your feelings in that one, didn’t you? I mean, it was all about loss and missing someone.”

  “I’m fine. It was good to sing again. Hey, that guy and I sang quite a duet, huh? The crowd loved it, didn’t they?”

  “Yeah. They did.”

  We chat for a while, and then go out and help Pete with last call. We spend the next half hour cleaning up. With three of us, it doesn’t take long. It’s almost two in the morning when I lock up and watch them both drive off. Then I make my way to the little white house. There’s a full moon and a sky full of diamond-bright stars. I smile up at them as I walk. It really is beautiful out here in the country. I spin in a circle and breathe in the fresh air.

  “Hey, pretty ballerina.”

  I stop short at the deep voice and look up at the porch. There’s a man sitting on the steps. He’s in shadow, but then I see the chrome of his motorcycle sitting off on the side of the house.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Charlotte—

  “It’s just me, Cherry. Don’t be afraid.” Daytona stands.

  I take a step back, completely afraid, no matter what he says. I’m alone. I don’t even have the security of the pistol with me tonight. I left it in the house this morning. Shit. What a stupid mistake.

  “What do you want?” I whisper.

  “Want to apologize. I was an ass earlier; you called it. Not the first impression I wanted to make with you. I’m sorry.”

  I’m shocked and wait for the punch line. There’s got to be a catch to this, right? He’s not just here to apologize. A man like him? I don’t believe that for a minute. I can’t keep my eyes from darting around, wondering where his buddy is.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  “Ya think?”

  “You were singing that song to me. The one about pain and loss. It touched me. Maybe someday I’ll tell you why.”

  “I doubt we’ll know each other that long.”

  “Look, I’m sorry for the way I acted. I was rude, and I’ve been sitting here thinking about it a lot.”

  “Well, I haven’t, so you can just go.”

  “Goddamn it. You’re not easy are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “I wasn’t ready to walk in that bar and see you. I wasn’t even close to ready. I just got off days on the road. I’m tired and in a bad mood, and Trick tells me you shot him down on my offer.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Look, I’m not always an asshole.”

  “Just a part-time asshole, huh?”

  “You know how it is with bikers.”

  “Actually, I don’t. I’ve never been with one.”

  “Never? You run a biker bar. Girl who looks like you. How is that possible?”

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  He chuckles. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “One who says exactly what she’s thinking.”

  “Why shouldn’t I say what I’m thinking?”

  He nods. “Bet you’ve got a lot to say.”

  “Yep, and no man is shutting me up.”

  He chuckles again. “Damn girl. You make me laugh and smile. Been a long time since that happened.”

  I stare at him. He’s an enigma wrapped in a mystery, and I want to know why he’s really here.

  “You hungry?”

  “What?” The word escapes my lips on a breath. It’s the last thing I expect him to say.

  “Dinner. I thought I’d take you out and feed you.”

  “Take me out and feed me?” I know I must sound like an idiot repeating his words, but nothing about him sitting on my porch is making sense to me. “You mean like a date?”

  “Yeah. Like a date. We could talk. I could actually listen to you this time. How ‘bout it?”

  “I can’t think of anything worse.”

  He bursts out laughing. “You’re a hoot.” When I don’t say anything, he continues. “Is it me? Are you not attracted to me? ‘Cause it’s okay if you’re not, but you’ve got to tell me.”

  The crazy—no, insane—thing is, I am attracted to him. But getting involved with him? That’s a whole different ballga
me. “It’s almost two in the morning and you want to have a dinner date?”

  “The Vegas Strip never sleeps, darlin’.”

  “I’m not driving to Vegas with you.” He’s lost his damn mind.

  He cocks his head and moves toward me. “No?”

  I back up. “No. Stop.” I throw a hand up.

  “Babe, I’m no threat to you. I promise.”

  “You could also be a big fat liar, too.”

  He laughs at that one and stops. “True. Okay, then. I know a place just a few miles from here.”

  “You’re a stranger to me. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Come on, darlin’. How we gonna get to know each other if we don’t spend any time together? I’m offering you a nice meal. That’s it. No strings. We eat. We talk. I drive you home. Got my word.”

  “And your word is supposed to mean something?”

  “My word is my bond. I give it; I don’t break it. Ever.”

  Now he sounds like I’ve offended him.

  “Here, I’ll make you a deal. We’ll leave my bike here, and we can take your truck. That way, if I piss you off, you’ve got your wheels and can leave anytime you want. Deal?”

  I bite my lip. I suppose it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have this guy as a friend rather than an enemy. “No strings?”

  “No strings. I promise you.”

  Something in the way he looks at me, his face open and honest, I don’t see a shred of ulterior motive there, and something inside me shifts, and I let my guard down.

  “All right?” he prods again.

  “All right.” I give in, digging the keys out of my purse and moving toward the truck. He holds his hand out.

  “Mind if I drive, sweetheart? It’s kind of an ego thing for me.”

  I roll my eyes and pass them over. He walks me to the passenger side and opens the door. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s got manners or because it gives him an opportunity to check out my legs again. He closes the door, and I peer out the window, watching him move around the hood. He’s got an easy gait, and his shoulders roll in a sexy way.

  The truck rocks as he slides behind the wheel. He throws it in reverse, and turns in a circle, kicking up the dust in the glow of the headlights.

  “How long were you waiting out there?” I ask as he pulls out onto the blacktop.

  His eyes on the road, he confesses, “About an hour.”

  My mouth falls open. “An hour?”

  “You want the truth?” He glances briefly over at me, and I nod. “Okay, here it is. I haven’t felt like this about a woman in a long time, Cherry. Something in the way you sang that song, looking right at me at the end like you did. I felt we had a connection. Was I wrong?” His eyes move from the road to me again. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”

  “I suppose I did.”

  “Good. Then we’re on the same page. I’m gonna do something with you I’ve never done with a woman before.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m not gonna play any games. I’m gonna be straight up with you from day one. Okay?”

  My brain stalls on the words day one. He’s planning on this lasting a while. “O-kay.”

  “I like you. I’m attracted to you, and it’s not just your knockout body or your beautiful face. It’s your smart mouth, your ballsy attitude, and the way you make me laugh; hell, it’s the whole damn package.”

  I stare out the window. Everything he’s saying is really nice, but I’m a little freaked out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn to me.

  “Hey.”

  I meet his gaze.

  “I’m not gonna rush you or pressure you, I’m just layin’ it all out there for you. Bein’ up front and honest.”

  “Okay.” I said that before, but I don’t know how else to respond. “I’m sorry, this is all a little weird.”

  He shrugs. “Life is weird. Ever have one of those moments where something happens to you out of the blue, when you least expect it, and you just know everything just changed, and it’s not gonna change back? That somehow nothing will ever be the same?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Kinda had one of those tonight. See, I walked into his little dive bar in this shit town. Knew Trick was in here three months ago and extended a loan to the owner. Club money. Ninety days is our limit. So it was time to pay up. We had a chuckle when he said you wanted to talk to the president. It was a nice night, so we took a ride out here. Last thing I expected to find was you, darlin’. Changed everything.”

  I swallow and suck my lips into my mouth. I’ve had a lot of men come on to me, but never like this man.

  “When’s the last time you wore that dress or sang that particular song?”

  “Never.”

  “See. Fate, kismet, whatever. Not to mention there’s a full moon tonight.”

  I stare out the windshield, not sure how I feel about everything he’s confessing. “I appreciate your honesty and all but—”

  “But I’m scaring the crap out of you?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Okay. I’ll lay off the destiny shit. Not sure I ever believed in it myself before tonight.”

  “Maybe you had one too many drinks.”

  He chuckles. “Don’t think so, babe.”

  We head up into the foothills of the mountains, where the ground is higher, and the view is better. I see a few lights, and we pass some large, expensive homes. “You live up here?”

  He points up a hill. “See the light on that deck?”

  I lean to stare out the windshield up the hillside. “Yes.”

  “That’s my place.”

  Holy crap.

  He turns off onto a long gravel road that carries us up the hill. He pulls up to the house. It’s a log home from what I can see in the light by the big entry door. It’s big and grand.

  “I bought this place about five years ago.”

  “I guess being a criminal pays well,” I quip.

  “We criminals do okay.” Daytona chuckles as he shoves the truck in park, shuts it off, and leaves the keys in the ignition. He shoulders open the driver’s door. “Wait there.”

  I wonder if he has to make sure it’s safe or something, but he comes to my door, and I realize he only wants to help me out of the truck. I’ve had men treat me with manners, hold doors and such, but somehow, coming from this man—a man who has no clue who I really am, and one who runs an MC like he’s a king—it just means more.

  He extends his hand, and as I take it he says, “Every woman deserves a man who respects her.”

  I smile. “Every man deserves a woman who appreciates his effort, so thank you.”

  He grins back at my response. There’s something about him that puts me at ease. Maybe it’s his smile, or his warm brown eyes, and the lines that crinkle around them when he smiles, those faint white lines in his tan face showing he smiles often.

  “Come on.” He keeps ahold of my hand and leads me inside. He presses two fingertips to his lips and touches them to a little owl statue on a small entry table. He doesn’t explain, so I follow him out of the entryway and into the great room. The place is big and rustic, with a large stone fireplace that extends up the vaulted ceiling.

  “Oh God, that’s gorgeous.” I stare in awe.

  “Thanks. Want me to build you a fire?”

  “Oh, hell yes.”

  That gets me another chuckle. “Coming right up, darlin’.”

  We move to it, and he squats down and stacks a few split logs, shoves in some kindling and wads up some paper. Soon a blazing fire throws warmth into the room. He leans one hand on the mantle, staring into the flames. I stand next to him and hold my hands out.

  “It’s lovely. Thank you.” I rub my bare arms.

  “You still cold?” Before I can answer, he walks in another room and returns with a flannel shirt. He holds it out, and I slip my arms in it. It’s big, so he takes my hand and rolls first one cuff up, then the other. “Better?”<
br />
  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Come on.” He leads me into a big kitchen that’s to die for with beautiful granite counters and a pretty tumbled stone backsplash. He opens the fridge and stares inside, then grabs some items out and piles them on the counter.

  “Anything I can do?”

  He grabs my waist and lifts me up to sit on the counter like I weigh nothing. “Just sit there and look pretty.”

  I grab a grape from a bowl on the counter and pop it into my mouth, grinning around it. “I can do that.”

  He turns the oven on, then grabs a cast iron skillet, pours a bit of oil in the bottom, and turns on the flame. He shakes in some frozen hash browns from a bag and stirs them around with a wooden spoon.

  “Do you cook often?” I ask.

  “I like to eat, so yeah, I cook.” He grins.

  I glance around the place, suddenly looking for any sign of a woman, but see no pretty dishtowels or girly knickknacks. “You don’t have some cute little club girl to cook for you?”

  “Got a club girl who comes in twice a week and cleans the place, but that’s all she does.” The potatoes sizzle in the pan, starting to turn golden. He seasons them with salt and pepper, adds chopped sausage, and finally meets my eyes. “If you’re wondering if I’ve got a woman stashed somewhere, I don’t.”

  “Well, not necessarily stashed, but a guy like you, there’s got to be women, right?”

  He uses the spoon to smooth everything into an even layer in the skillet, and then he scrambles an egg mixture and pours it on top. “A guy like me?”

  “A self-confident, good-looking guy.”

  He’s sprinkling a couple of handfuls of shredded cheese over the top but pauses to look at me, grinning. “You think I’m good looking, huh?”

  I roll my eyes and grab another grape. “I’m sure you know you are.”

  He wipes his hands on a towel and shoves the skillet in the oven. When he’s through, he puts a hand on the countertop on either side of my hips, boxing me in. “Feed me a grape.”

  He drops his mouth open, and I pop one in and watch him chew. When he’s through, he holds my eyes.

  “Sweet but a little tart. Kinda like you, Cherry.”

  My gaze drops to his mouth, wondering what it’d be like to kiss him. I don’t have to wonder long. He presses his lips to mine, just a gentle brush at first, but he keeps coming back for another and another, until I’m following him every time he pulls back, chasing his lips like I can’t get enough, because I can’t.