Silver Biker: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge Read online

  “Fine. Friday after the wedding.” With those words, like a warning, James hangs up, and I collapse onto my bed in the Lodge. I can’t keep staying here. It’s wonderfully decadent but adding up for a two-week stay, and I’ve decided I’m heading home on Saturday. Home to Savannah.

  I’d sleep with my husband and get out of town.

  If only it were that easy.

  Being with James has always been fire, and my body heats just thinking about him entering me again. The length of his dick returns to my mind. The feel of his pelvis rocking against mine. The things he’d do to me to tease me, to please me. I shiver at the memories.

  My phone rings a second time, still held in my palm, and I lift it for my ear without checking the caller identification.

  “What?” I snap, sexually worked up while emotionally frustrated.

  “Evie?”

  Shit. “Dalton.” His name is a breathless whine of relief and embarrassment.

  “Honey, you okay?”

  I’m fine, I want to state but bite back the words, chewing my lip to keep them from escaping. “It’s been an interesting day.”

  After leaving the diner, I went to a private estate sale, one open to serious buyers before the deceased person’s possessions were set up for auction. It was always a little bittersweet to consider my work involved the end of someone’s life. Their once-treasures would be separated and sold. In some cases, trashed. I’d like to think repurposing an item gave it new life, a new journey, a new story, despite it being an inanimate object. Someone’s silverware was now worn as decoration. Someone’s silver service was now used as décor. It was wishful thinking, almost hopeful. My business had the name Silver Dragonfly, an equally inspiring name. The title came from my son. He loved dragonflies.

  Recycling someone’s trash into new treasure felt like a tribute to him, over and over again.

  “What happened?” Dalton asks, settling in. He’s a good listener. It is part of his job as an attorney. Listen. Decipher fact. Collect evidence. He took his time to learn about me and accept my quirks. Being an artisan, dating an attorney didn’t always mix, but my former debutante training returned, like something filed away in a drawer, occasionally opened and dusted off to be used again. I fell into line where I needed to, and Dalton let me be who I wanted to be otherwise. My opposition to societal roles appealed to him. I didn’t begrudge him. It was a happy medium between who I was once destined to be and who I became.

  I don’t tell Dalton about James. Of course, I can’t, and the lie weighs me down, burying me further and further in my misery. Instead, I explain my day of silver collecting, and he listens despite a lack of interest in the details. He’s a good sport.

  When I finish, he chuckles at the shenanigans of someone wanting only one fork while I wanted the entire collection.

  “So when are you coming home?” he questions, as he’s been asking each time we speak.

  “I’m going to a wedding on Friday,” I tell him, instead of answering with the decision to return to Savannah on Saturday.

  “A wedding?” Dalton chuckles, and another layer of guilt covers me. Dalton has hinted repeatedly at where he’d like our relationship to go. He’s mentioned our future more than I can count. He accepts me, and I have accepted a future with him. I want that. I do.

  But . . .

  He didn’t press me into a wall and kiss me senseless.

  He didn’t kiss me, so my toes curled, and I orgasmed on his lap.

  He didn’t finger me on a car hood until I released twice.

  He is tender and gentle and takes his time, allowing me to lead us where I am ready to go.

  It is actually a little boring, truth be told, but it’s safe.

  “Who’s getting married?” he asks, and I close my eyes, fighting with the truth.

  “My ex-husband’s older brother. I was close to him and his first wife, and she died of breast cancer eleven years ago.” Giant deserves every bit of happiness. His expression when he spoke of his future wife gave off that happiness tenfold.

  “Need a date?” Dalton asks with a soft laugh.

  “It’s kind of a private affair. Family and closest friends.” It doesn’t really explain my invitation as I’ve been estranged from the family for six years, but then again, Giant assured me the other morning I’d always be family, no matter what I decided with James. And I had decided. Of course, I’d decided. James had been served, as he said.

  “Oh.” Dalton’s deep voice rang with hurt, but I promised myself I’d make it up to him. I’d be a better person once I did what I needed to do. I’d be good to him, too.

  “I miss you,” I say, meaning every word. I did miss him. I couldn’t say it enough. He was a good person. Too good.

  “I miss you, too, honey. Come home soon,” he adds, and I hear something in his voice I haven’t heard before. Longing. It was a sensation I was overly familiar with. Only, I’d felt it for someone else, and it made me the bad person I was.

  + + +

  I hadn’t heard from James again the remainder of the week, and his silence made me nervous. Too many times, I longed to give in and call him, wondering what he meant by Friday after the wedding. In the end, I valiantly fought the urge, purchased a wedding present from Pearl’s, and drove to Giant’s cabin.

  A distinct path of two tires rolled through a thick overbrush of trees before spitting me out into a grassed area with an ancient cabin, restored to its original glory. The grayed slat siding and new tin roof balanced the house with a covered front porch. A window on either side of the open front door said, come in. It was small but felt larger on the inside, and I’d been inside on many occasions, both before and after Giant’s rehab of the place.

  Before, when it was an empty shell and Giant was still in the military, James and I would steal up here and spend the night, rutting like reckless animals. There was something about nature that sexually unhinged me, and when James took control, I never refused him. We had an active, energetic sex life before everything fell apart. Part of that energy was my desire for more babies. Another part of our enthusiasm was James’s eagerness to give me many children.

  We only ever had one.

  Michael was the start and end of our parenthood journey, but it wasn’t for lack of trying, and it wasn’t for lack of other babies. We had several more who were souls in our hearts and angels in heaven. Five of them.

  I shake the bittersweet thought of all my missed babies, as I exit my Jeep parked near several other vehicles across Giant’s yard. Behind the cabin is a picturesque view of the rising mountain in a burst of fall colors of orange, red, and yellow. It almost doesn’t look real against the backdrop of a solid blue autumn sky.

  It’s a gorgeous day for a wedding, I tell myself as I shut the driver’s door and head toward the porch. I take another fortifying breath as it’s going to be difficult spending time in the clearing with the ridge so nearby. I’ll be trying to remember good times to help me get through the day.

  A man sits on the low steps jiggling a baby roughly a year old on his lap, cooing at him in a sickly, sweet voice.

  “Who’s a big boy? Is Finn a big boy? Who’s your favorite uncle? Uncle Marcus is your favorite uncle.”

  Marcus? He must be related to Letty, Giant’s soon-to-be wife, as I don’t know of a Marcus in the Harrington family.

  “Hello,” I call out as I approach, and dark eyes meet mine in a pretty face. Too pretty. His hair is perfect, not a strand out of place, and his smile white and bright as he greets me.

  “Hi yourself. Here for the wedding?”

  “I am. Evelyn Harrington,” I state, holding out a hand to shake his, and he shifts the baby to his hip, reaching out awkwardly for my right hand with his right. He squeezes mine as though we are old friends instead of new acquaintances.

  “Marcus Shelton. I’m an outlaw here.” He winks as though we share a secret. “I worked with Letty when she lived in Chicago. She was my boss, but we all know who really ran the show.
We’re like family. Isn’t that right, Finn? I’m Uncle Marcus. Say Marcus.”

  The baby stares over his little shoulder at me, large dark eyes taking me in, as Uncle Marcus jiggles him. Marcus’s head pops up, and he smiles at me even though the baby has not answered him. “So who do you belong to, or are you another Harrington on your own?”

  “I guess you could say I’m an outlaw as well. I’m married to James.” For only a little longer, I think. The thought makes my tummy flip and not in a good way.

  “James. The black sheep, right? Sheep,” Marcus states to the baby on his lap. “Say baa. Baaaa.” The front door opens and out steps Giant in dark slacks and a white dress shirt rolled to his elbows. He’s also wearing a vest. Mixed in with his trimmed beard and cool charcoal hair, and he’s a vision of sexy silver fox.

  “Quit talking to my kid like a puppy,” Giant snarks, and Marcus chuckles as he stands.

  “Your kid?” I choke, fighting the bile rising in my throat although I’m happy, I’m really happy for him. Marcus hands Finn off to Giant, who kisses the fuzzy head of the baby once on his hip.

  “Soon-to-be,” Giant says, pressing another kiss to Finn’s sweet temple as Finn can’t take his eyes off me. Giant gazes at the baby while he addresses him. “Finnikin Pierson Harrington, did you meet Aunt Evie?”

  Tears instantly fill my eyes. I haven’t been called aunt anything in a long time, and all those nieces and nephews are growing up. Giant’s daughter, Ellie, even had children of her own in my absence, making me a great aunt.

  “We hadn’t officially met,” I say, fighting the clogging of my throat while giving a finger wave to the baby who’s still staring at me. Giant steps closer to me, shifting Finn.

  “Want to hold him?” he softly asks. “He’s a squirmer, wanting to use those legs to run, but . . .” Giant’s voice drifts, hinting I can take him for the hug I suddenly feel I desperately need. It’s going to be a long afternoon on the ridge where Giant will wed Letty, and I lost my everything. Without thinking, I hold out my arms, and Giant offers Finn to me. I’d forgotten the feel of a baby. The weight in my arms. The shift in balance of my own body. As if it’s automatic, I sway while Finn looks at me, his wide black eyes scanning my face.

  “He’s beautiful,” I whisper to him while speaking to Giant. Finn has fuzzy black hair and cappuccino skin with wrinkles at his wrists and the chubbiest cheeks. He’s a little chunkster, and I instantly adore him.

  “When do I get to see Letty?” I ask, glancing up at Giant. His soft smile says everything. He loves that woman and this child.

  “Soon. She’s already up the mountain. Someone wouldn’t let me see her after midnight.” Giant turns and glares at Marcus.

  “Despite her desire to climb you like a tree, we must have a modicum of etiquette at this wedding,” Marcus states, and Giant rolls his eyes at me.

  “I don’t know who put him in charge,” Giant mutters.

  “I heard that,” Marcus calls out, and I laugh while I bounce Finn on my hip.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to have you leave your car here. You can ride with one of us instead.” By us, Giant means one of the limited vehicles heading up the mountain. Typically, he’d hike the three miles to the ridge, which isn’t possible in his current attire, and I imagine his future wife would prefer not to be sweaty and stinky in her wedding dress. Giant decided only a few trucks would tackle the path leading around the ridge and up to an old ranger’s post where they could easily park. From there, it’s about a hundred-yard walk through the trees to a clearing near a stream. It’s going to be a beautiful setting for an outdoor wedding.

  + + +

  As the wedding takes place, I keep my head in the moment as much as I can. Giant and Letty are surrounded by his family and the man called Uncle Marcus, along with his partner. It’s difficult not to feel like an outsider among people I considered family more than my own, and they make a decent effort of offering me hugs and not-so-surprised greetings.

  James’s father, George Jr., and Elaina seem happy to see me, but they are still standoffish. Then again, it could be the busyness of the day. I meet Charlie’s new family, and thankfully bypass discussions about the dedication and who decided the name of the future community building. I also try to stifle my inability to take Billy Harrington seriously as the minister presiding over this ceremony. He actually does a decent job of keeping a solemn tone while reading off the promises Giant and Letty wrote for one another.

  To love one another.

  To communicate our needs.

  To spend time outdoors.

  To never go to bed angry.

  To be open to adventure.

  To treat each other as equals.

  Swiping at a lone tear, I smile to myself as I reflect on each vow until something pulls my attention to the woods at my side. My eyes narrow at the form I see just inside the tree line.

  James?

  My smile grows, but he isn’t looking at me. His head is bowed as if in prayer as he listens to his younger brother speak. I turn back to the ceremony at hand. In my heart, I’m happy James couldn’t stay away from his brother’s special occasion after all. Sad pleasure swells my chest. He still loves his family. I know he does. He just doesn’t think he deserves them. If only he knew how they’d all missed him. If only he knew one word from him, and they’d be welcoming him home with a fattened calf.

  After Giant and Letty complete their vows and exchange rings, I turn for the shadows once more to find his outline gone. With a sweeping glance around those gathered, I slip toward the forest entrance, leading to the ranger outpost.

  “James?” I whisper, stepping into the darkness of the fall foliage. I don’t want to risk drawing attention to myself inside the woods, but I call out his name a little louder the second time, walking a little further under the trees. Spinning in a slow circle, I don’t find a trace of him, and for half a second, I wonder if I imagined his presence.

  But I didn’t.

  He was here, and I take a small comfort in the fact he came to witness this happy occasion for his brother, his once best friend, and his family, despite his rejection of them. Taking a fortifying breath, I reverse my direction and re-enter the clearing to find the passing of champagne. There’s no formal dinner here but a collection of wedding cupcakes. Giant said they were doing everything out of order. Dinner will be back down the mountain with Giant and Letty returning later to the outpost for their first official night as husband and wife together. Apparently, the place has significance to them.

  Pictures are being taken, and Giant Brewing Company beer is shared next, poured right into the champagne flutes by Billy. The family mills about, and some wander down to the stream while I stick to the periphery of things. I have new friends in Uncle Marcus and his husband, Peter, and I hang with them until Letty approaches us.

  She walks right up to me and embraces me like she did when we first met. She’s a beautiful bride with her dark hair pulled up in a loose roll draping low on the back of her head and a simple straight dress in white, cut with a deep V for a bodice with a loose flowing skirt to her feet where she wears flat sandals instead of heels. Giant warned me to dress casually, and I’m wearing cowboy boots and a lightweight dress with a jean jacket. It’s the best I could pull together in the collection of things I’d brought with me to Blue Ridge.

  “What did you think?” she asks of the wedding.

  “It was so lovely.” It really was with the fall foliage and the self-written vows. It’s rustic but elegant.

  “I know,” she says softly, slipping her arm through mine and leading me away from Marcus and Peter. “I’m stealing her boys,” she cries over her shoulder, guiding me toward the edge of the forest. Giant intercedes us before we get too far.

  “This looks like mischief. What are you two up to, Cricket?”

  Letty smiles at her new husband, but I’m the one who blushes. Giant has a nickname for his wife? I was endlessly teased by the family for James calling m
e Peach, as the fruity reference has many sexual connotations, and most of them were exactly what the dirty minds of the Harrington boys suspected.

  “There’s been a little change of plans for this evening,” Letty states, keeping her eyes on Giant whose heavy brows crease. “We’re going to camp here tonight as there will be guests in the ranger station.”

  “What?” Giant bellows, and those closest to us shift to look in our direction. Letty still holds my arm locked with hers.

  “We can pitch a tent right here where it all started,” she states.

  “But I had a plan for you and that outpost,” Giant growls.

  “We can use it on night two.” Her grin grows as she attempts to hold Giant’s gaze.

  “Cricket, I—” Giant cuts himself off as his sight travels over our heads. His eyes narrow. “What the . . .”

  With that, Letty reaches a hand to Giant’s thick forearm, the hand with her large engagement ring, and now a wedding band. “The second night,” she repeats as if reminding him of something, and his eyes lower for where she’s touching him. His expression immediately softens as he removes her hand, bringing it up to his lips, and presses a kiss over the ring. James used to do the same thing to me, and I absentmindedly rub at my fourth finger where my rings would rest.

  “I love seeing my ring on your finger,” James would say, caressing the same spot on my finger.

  “Accept the challenge, Mr. Harrington. I know how to be creative in a tent,” Letty teases.

  “But it’s our wedding night,” Giant practically whines.

  “And we’ll pitch a tent, share a sleeping bag, and—”

  “I’m not certain I need to be part of this conversation, right?” I ask, cutting off my new sister-in-law before I hear more details than necessary about their wedding night plans.

  Letty turns back to me as if the two newlyweds forgot my presence. Her face warms as she smiles at me again.