Bounty:Fury Riders MC(48)

     



 

"I'm saying you'll have to spend the night. There's just no way for you  to get out of here; besides, there's not enough gas in the tank.  Remember?"

The warm, cozy feeling I had disappears in a flash. I'm sure I've seen  at least one horror movie that started out like this. "Uh-uh. No way!"

His expression changes. Now he looks dark, dangerous, the way I'd expect  him to be if judging him by his tattoos alone. "Listen, sweetheart,  you're more than welcome to walk your ass back home in the middle of a  freaking blizzard if you're so dead set against it. Be my guest."

Damn it. He's right, of course. I'm trapped here whether I like it or  not. Even though the part of my brain still rational enough for thought  reminds me I could easily be dead right now, frozen in the backseat of  my car if it wasn't for him, the rest of me is annoyed that I have to  stay here instead of at home or, better yet, with my parents. Gorgeous  or not, he's a complete stranger.

A stranger who saved my life, that is.

"You're right. I'm sorry, that was bitchy of me," I mumble. "I wasn't  thinking. It's just that I was so excited about getting home to see my  parents for the holidays. It's been a while, you know? They were looking  forward to seeing me, too. This isn't how I'd planned on things going."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm sure they'd rather have you alive than frozen to death in the middle of the road."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. Okay. You're right. You win. And it's nice of  you to let me stay. It was really great that you came to get me, too.  Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We sit in silence for a while, then I remember something.

"Shit. Is your land line working? I didn't have any service on my phone,  then it went dead. I couldn't call my parents, and they must be worried  by now. Especially if they heard about the blizzard."

"Oh, yeah." He gets up and fetches a handset mounted to the wall by the  backdoor. I take it and dial, hoping the lines are still up and I can  get through to my mom.

"Christina! We've been worried sick!"

"I'm sorry, Mom, really. I got stranded in the snowstorm out here  and … had to pull over at a motel for the night." I glance at him and  notice the way he grins when he hears my lie. I roll my eyes, assuring  Mom that I'm safe and I'll call her in the morning.

I hang up, now at a total loss for words. For better or worse, I'm stuck  in a secluded farmhouse with a total stranger. What do I do now?





Chapter 4

Jax

The whiskey loosened up her tongue and now she won't shut up. If I'd  known she'd be a talker, I might have left her out in the snow.

Okay. I wouldn't have left her out in the snow, but maybe I'd have  bought myself some earplugs before the storm. Something to help me deal  with her incessant talking.

I know it's because she's nervous. We're strangers, and I'm sure that to  Little Miss Coffee Shop I'm the Big Bad Wolf. I remember how she looked  at me when I first walked into her place last week. Her eyes went round  before she could stop herself. Her skin was already fair, but it turned  so pale I could see the freckles standing out against her nose and  cheeks.

I'm used to getting that reaction when people first meet me, though. It's nothing new.

She's not a bad person, of course. She was genuinely nice to me. But  that was because she didn't know me. She had no idea that I really am  the Big Bad Wolf.

Now she's nervous, alone in the house with me. I notice the way she  hesitates before taking off her coat, and I know it's because she's  still slightly afraid of me. Even though I saved her damn life, she's  still afraid.

This isn't exactly an everyday thing for me either. I haven't spent this  much time alone with a woman, awake and with our clothes on, in years.  Ever since …

"Do you live here alone?" she asks, looking at me with those big green eyes. Innocent eyes.

"Why? You think the house needs a woman's touch or something?"

"No." I think I see a little bit of a blush on her cheeks. "I was going  to say just the opposite. It's a really nice house. Cozy."

"Thanks. It was decorated by, uh, a woman I knew." I look down at my  hands. It's still hard to talk about her, even after all this time. The  girl is smart enough to not ask any questions.

"I just realized something," she says, laughing. "I don't even know your name!"

"God, of course not." I'm laughing now, too. "I'm Jax. Jax Fairbanks."

"Christina Reardon."

"Christina Reardon, you make a mean blueberry muffin. I've been meaning to tell you that for a week. Really, it was excellent."

She definitely blushes this time. "Thanks."

"You've been there how long now?"

"Six months."

"I bet the town considers you a pleasant change from Ricky."         

     



 

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Ricky was, you know, a guy. And not the handsomest guy either."  As a matter of fact, he looked like a troll. But I keep that to myself,  not wanting to come off like too much of a prick. "The first thing I  thought when I walked in was that it was a nice change of pace, seeing  you behind the counter instead."

She scowls, and I wonder what the hell I said to piss her off. "So what  you're saying is that because I have tits, I have customers?"

"That's not what I said at all. I'm gonna chalk it up to the whiskey."  But there's no backing down from her. She stands up, hands on hips.

"No, that's exactly what you meant. I'm a girl, so people come to my  shop. If I was a guy-a plain, average-looking guy-they wouldn't be as  likely to come in."

"What the fuck difference does it make either way? Why are you getting  so worked up over this? Either way, it works in your favor. You're  pretty. You're nice. I'm sure people like visiting the shop and seeing a  pretty, nice girl smiling at them. That's all I meant." I hold up my  hands, surrendering. Christ, she's tough.

She's still simmering, but she sits back down. "My pastries are good."

"I just said they are."

She folds her arms. "And I remember everybody's name and what they usually order."

"I'm sure they appreciate it."

"They do."

"Good."

"Why do you always have to have the last word?"

"I don't." She turns her head toward the fire so I won't see her smile  in spite of herself. Now that she's not looking at me, I can size her  up. She's tall, curvy, with wavy dark hair that hangs past her  shoulders. She has that rash of freckles on her nose and cheeks, which I  don't normally like, but on her, they're cute. She's the opposite of  Marissa.

Even after two years, my heart clenches like it always does when I think  of her. She was tiny, short and small framed, with golden blonde curls.  She was always quiet, thoughtful, never really shared an opinion.  Always going whatever way I wanted to go. Always stepping aside so I  could stand in front of her. Smart as hell, but not overly opinionated.  She'd been taught from an early age to keep her opinions to herself.

The girl in front of me right now is nothing like that. I'd tried to  give her a compliment and she practically jumped down my throat.

So why am I so attracted to her? She's nothing like the women I usually go for.

Because even now, when I'm on the prowl for pussy I go for women who  remind me of Marissa. Petite blondes without much to say outside of  complimenting me. Women who don't fit that profile might as well not  exist. Even when I first saw Christina in the shop, I noticed that she  was cute. But it didn't go further than that. Because she's not my type.

So why do I want to take her upstairs and fuck her senseless?

I don't think she'd be the kind who'd go for just a one-time deal,  though. And that's all I'm interested in. No strings, no commitment. Not  even a cuddle. Just sex. A basic human need. I won't open myself up to  anything deeper than that ever again. It's not worth the pain.

She's fun, though. Now that I know it's so easy to get her riled up, I  wanna find new ways to do it. She's pretty enough when she's just  sitting there across from me, looking at the fire. When she's pissed  off, she's gorgeous.

"What made you decide to buy the shop?" I ask her. "That's a pretty big step for someone who's practically new in town."

"How did you know I was?" She's on edge and I have to wonder why.

I just shrug, to show her it's not a big deal. "You're new here. I've  lived here all my life, and I'd never met you before I walked in for a  quick breakfast. You were nice to me, which, like I said, isn't the  norm. And you were totally unprepared for a freak storm, which we get  around here at this time of year. There wasn't even a blanket in your  car."

Her eyes narrow. I guess she wasn't expecting me to have a brain in my head.

She doesn't argue. "I've only lived here for eight months," she admits. "I didn't know winter was so weird."

"Yeah, winter's pretty weird." I can't help grinning. It's just natural to tease her, though I don't know why.