Silver Biker: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge Page 3

  I’d been searching for her all evening, though. It was strange that I couldn’t get her out of my head. The way those wide blue eyes looked down at me as she straddled my middle just did something to my insides. My heart raced. My dick jolted. My stomach felt a little off.

  I was joking—but I wasn’t—when I asked if she fell from heaven. It’s like I hadn’t seen her, did a double take, and then she was there. I lost my footing looking at her from the ridge above and slid down the slight incline. I’d called out to her, but she hadn’t heard me, and we tumbled, ending with her on top of me.

  I’d like to have her over me again, minus a few layers of clothing.

  Instead, I gave up my quest and made my way to a recognizable space near Bolton Lake. My family had a small sliver of property here that no one ever lived on. It was just a slice of land passed down from generation to generation like our granddad’s cabin on the ridge or the brewery my family ran. We proudly owned Giant Brewing Company, officially named after my eldest brother, George the second, nicknamed Giant to distinguish between the many Georges in our family.

  I was pressing through the trees surrounding the place when I saw an illegally parked camper on the property. The 1961 Airstream Bambi was in mint condition, and I didn’t know how someone could comfortably fit in such tight quarters, let alone camp in one, but that wasn’t my concern. I needed to find the owner of this small rig and tell them to get off the private property they were trespassing on.

  Rounding the sparkling aluminum rig, I stopped short when I saw a topless woman in the lake.

  She stood without abandon, not looking in the direction of the camper, but enjoying the peace and quiet of the dying summer day. Her hair was slicked back against her head while her face tipped up to the setting sun. Her breasts were on full display, though slightly shadowed by the waning light. Gracefully, she tossed herself backward, diving into the water in such a way it expanded her lean body, peaking her breasts and then giving me a hint of the valley at the top of her legs. Water sloshed over her legs before her pointed toes broke the surface and then disappeared. She emerged a few feet away, standing once again, only this time with her back to me. Her hair lay smooth and flat to the middle of her spine, and her hourglass shape was backlit by the dripping sunrays. She looked like a water nymph, if I believed in such mythical creatures. She was more like a siren, and her body called to mine.

  “You’re trespassing,” I call out to her, finally breaking through the lust-filled thoughts in my head. She quickly spins, rustling the water around her. Whether she forgot she was naked as the day she was born or just boldly putting on a display, I’d never know, but she stared me down from the distance.

  “Who’s there?” she cried out, arching a hand over her brow to see me. I was actually leaning against the side of her camper equally taking my fill of her before breaking the news.

  “I’m with the Smoky Mountains Search and Rescue team, and I’d gotten a call that an alligator escaped into these waters.”

  “What?!” she shrieked, twisting her body side to side and staring down at the liquid surrounding her. Her hands splash at the surface, and she slowly walks forward, still uninhibited by her nakedness.

  Sweet Jesus.

  Her body was stunning with the dipping sun outlining her form. Water cascaded down her skin, giving her an otherworldly appearance.

  “Stop,” I hollered, knowing I was going to lose it if she came all the way to the edge of this lake in all her glory. I could exemplify control. I’d never take advantage of a woman, but seeing her like this, was too much. My body hummed. My dick stood at full attention. I pressed off the camper and lowered my crossed arms to clenched fists at my side. The desire to rush her, tackle her in the lake, and lick every drop of water off her body consumed me.

  She halted, exposing more than three-quarters of her body. “What about the alligator?” she questioned, searching the water again for the impossible.

  “Do you have any idea where you are?”

  “The Smoky Mountains,” she said, tipping her head like I’m the silly one.

  “How many alligator sightings do you think really happen in the mountains?”

  Even with the space between us, the heat of her blue eyes hit me. I took a few steps forward, drawing closer to the lake’s edge and slipping my hands into the pockets of my shorts. Her fists came to her hips, accentuating the curve of them.

  “I know who you are.” Her voice rises like she finally recognizes me. “Do you make it a habit to stalk all the girls you knock to the ground, Ranger?”

  “Only the pretty peaches that have fallen from a tree,” I teased. Her hair was glistening in the dipping sun, giving it a fuzzy peach color, and I wanted to pick her.

  “You playing me for a fool?”

  “Never,” I teased. “But I’d like to play you.”

  She shook her head, laughing at me. “Does that line actually work on anyone?”

  “Most girls,” I snarked back at her.

  “Well, as I’m not most girls, good luck with that one.” She turned her back on me and cautiously strolled deeper in the water.

  “You’re still trespassing. This is private property. You aren’t allowed to camp here.” She spun back in my direction, her firm breasts hardly moving but standing erect with sharp peaks for nips, accentuated by the cold water and the cool night air.

  “You lying to me again?”

  “Nope. Honest truth, alligators and all. This is my family’s land, and you aren’t allowed to be here.”

  “Crap,” she muttered, lowering her head. Her hands slip together before her like a repentant child.

  It’s at this moment she realized her lack of dress. “Shit,” she added to the first explicative and slapped her hands over each breast as if the tiny cupping could disguise such ample globes.

  “Um. Naked here,” she hollered.

  “I’ve noticed,” I told her, not turning away even though that would be the respectful thing to do.

  “You could . . . maybe give me a second,” she stammered before adding, “Turn around.”

  “Why? Is there an alligator behind me?” I lowered for my boots and quickly sliced my fingers through the laces to loosen them. Tapping the toe to the back of one, I used it as leverage to remove the hiking footgear. At the same time, I tugged my T-shirt over my head. I dropped it to the ground and toed off the other boot.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m a search and rescue ranger like I told you. I need a better search of these waters for lost alligators, and you look like you need some rescuing.” I leaned forward to pull off my socks. Standing, I unsnapped the thick fabric of my shorts.

  “I don’t need your assistance, Ranger, but thanks.”

  “Are you sure, Peach, because you look like you’re struggling?” Her eyes were no longer focused on my face but somewhere near my waistline. I lowered the zipper and shrugged out of the material.

  “What are you doing?” she choked, taking in my physique and the appendage that could not be missed straining to salute her.

  “Leveling the playing field.”

  “I already told you I don’t want to be played.”

  “Well, I want to swim . . . on my property.”

  “How do I know this is even your land?”

  I slowly stepped forward, letting the cool water cover my feet. Damn, it’s cold. Maybe the refreshing blast would lessen the aching throb of my dick.

  “Why would I lie?”

  “Um, alligators?” she mocked, and I chuckled. I’ve reached the depth of my ankles, and she stood a few feet away from me.

  “I’m not going to touch you,” I warned her, trying to keep my eyes on her face instead of letting them rove her body now that I was closing in on her. Her head tilted to the side.

  “Oh, now you want to be chivalrous?”

  “Chival-what? I don’t know the word,” I teased.

  “Why do I feel like that’s the first truth you’ve told me?�
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  I laughed harder, and she leaned forward, letting those firm beauties dangle. My thoughts raced to what it’d be like to have her over me, teasing me with those babies before I cup them each with a hand or, better yet, suck one into my mouth.

  I hissed as my dick leaped. It had a mind of its own, like a puppy on a leash, eager to get closer to this woman. I couldn’t get any firmer. But I meant what I said, I won’t touch her without her permission.

  “I’m never a liar,” I offered. “I’m a lot of things but not that. I’m always up front and honest.”

  I watched her lips clamp together and then twist a bit as if she was considering something. She was still bent forward, hands drifting in the water as if rinsing them off.

  “What’s the most honest thing you could say?”

  “I want to fuck you.” If I thought I’d shock her, it didn’t instantly show. Her lips remained together but rolled inward. Her hands stilled in the water. Her breasts hung forward, tempting me.

  Then a splash of water hit me in the face.

  “What the hell?” I sputtered, laughing at the same time. I swipe one hand down my face to clear the droplets and noticed she’d spun. With her back to me, she struggled to run in the knee-deep liquid.

  “Alligator,” she tossed into the night air before diving into the disturbed lake, and I followed her, wanting to rescue her over and over again.

  4

  Conditions

  [Evie]

  May. I owed him a phone call in the beginning of summer. It was the one promise we’d made to each other. I’d call him on the anniversary, and he’d answer. Every year, I was a wreck the days leading up to the call. It took me weeks to shake our conversation once it was over.

  The longing for something we can’t have back.

  The unspoken apology deep within his tone.

  The disappointment between us—in him, in me, in what happened to us.

  This year, I didn’t call. I just couldn’t do it.

  “Evie?” My name hooks my attention, and I glance up at Billy Harrington. I’m sitting in the Blue Ridge Microbrewery & Pub, owned and operated by one of James’s younger brothers. Billy always was handsome in a rugged, playful sort of way. He wears a beanie cap on his head, giving him a youthful air despite his mid-forties age. With the typical light brown Harrington eyes and a mischievous smile, this man has player written all over him. He learned from the master, he used to tease his older brother. I wasn’t jealous of my husband’s sexual history. He’d already told me how he’d been around a bit. The only person I ever felt guilty over was Dolores Chance, a once upon a time friends with benefits of James’s.

  “Evie, is it really you?” Billy’s still addressing me as he rounds the bar and nears the stool where I’ve been sitting, staring into a glass of whiskey I haven’t started to drink. Billy’s arms open, and before I can tell him not to hug me, he pulls me into an embrace, pressing me to his firm body. It isn’t that I don’t like hugs. I just don’t want a Harrington hug because I know it could break me. My resolve to be firm against this family would crumble. My determination not to think about things I can’t get back would weaken.

  When I left, I lost not only James but his entire family, my family.

  And I’ve missed them with every part of my being.

  Billy continues to hold me a little longer than necessary, and I hate to admit how good it feels to be held. The Harringtons know how to hug. Not a lean in and pat on the back. Not an air kiss to the cheek and pull away. They hold on and hold on tight.

  “William.” A stern feminine voice comes from somewhere at our sides, and I press at Billy. I’ve witnessed a few catfights over him through the years, and I don’t want any trouble. Billy pulls back but keeps his arm over my shoulder, shifting both our bodies to face a woman. She has beautiful silver hair with accents of white and hints of charcoal. Her eyes are silver steel and glaring at me.

  “Roxie, honey, this is Evie,” Billy introduces me. Then he clarifies, “James’s Evie.”

  I open my mouth to correct the label. I’m nothing to James and haven’t been for years, but before I can speak, I’m enveloped in another hug, and it’s almost as strong as the one given by Billy.

  Whispered words near my ear. “I’m so happy to meet you.” The woman—Roxie—leans away but doesn’t release my shoulders. Her eyes soften as she stares at my face.

  “I’m . . . sorry,” I question, emphasizing my disadvantage here. I glance over at Billy who’s still smiling with that playful grin of his. His eyes spark as he takes in the woman holding onto me.

  “Evie Harrington, this is Roxie McAllister, my forever girl.”

  Roxie’s hands finally slip from me, and she turns to face Billy. “William, that is a horrible name.”

  “Well, I can think of a better one, but you haven’t said yes yet,” he teases.

  “I don’t recall the question.” She arches a brow at him, and I instantly like her. I can’t be certain of their status, but I’m reading this situation as Roxie has put Billy in his place a time or two. And forever girl sounds strangely similar to girlfriend.

  “Roxanne,” she states, holding out a hand for mine. We shake although it seems a little late since she just hugged me without knowing me. Then again, I imagine anyone close to the Harringtons knows of me, the infamous wife who walked away from James when he was at his lowest point.

  “He told me to go,” I once explained to Giant.

  “I know,” he replied, but disappointment rang in my ears. Giant wanted me to be stronger for James, but I just couldn’t be.

  “Are you here for the wedding?” Billy asks.

  “Are you here for the dedication?” Roxie questions, and Billy cranes his neck, turning his focus to his forever girl.

  “Roxie,” he whispers like something is a secret.

  “Who’s getting married?” I ask.

  “Giant,” Roxie interjects, and I glance at Billy, who closes his eyes for a split second.

  “Giant?” I choke. George Harrington II was as loyal as they come to his first wife. Sweet, innocent, quiet Clara didn’t seem to match the brooding, solid, militant stature of her husband. She died almost eleven years back from breast cancer, and Giant was wrecked. They’d been high school sweethearts and had two beautiful daughters. I couldn’t imagine him with anyone else. I also wonder why he hadn’t told me himself.

  James and Giant were close once upon a time, and both wanted Clara and me to be friends. On a surface level, we were friends because we were family. However, we were very different from one another. Nonetheless, I loved her as a sister-in-law. Hearing Giant is marrying someone when I didn’t even know he’d fallen in love is shocking.

  I’d been in touch with Giant lately as I relied on him to help me track down James. My husband was rather vague about what he did or who he did or where he went.

  “Who’s the lucky lady?” I ask, fighting the lump in my throat. Giant deserves every bit of goodness in his life. He deserves a second chance at love. We all deserve second chances for things.

  “Her name’s Letty Pierson. She’s from Chicago.” Billy lowers his voice, making it sound ominous as though a Southern mountain man can’t marry a damn Yankee. Fortunately, the Harringtons do not discriminate that way. Billy’s explanation tells me nothing about the woman, but I respond as pleasantly as I can.

  “That’s wonderful. I’m happy for him. When’s the wedding?”

  “Friday next,” Roxanne gleefully states, and something in my expression causes Billy to bite his lip.

  “That’s soon.” I smile as best I can, but suddenly feel shaky. My hand covers my lower abdomen.

  “So, are you coming to the wedding?” Roxanne asks, hope ringing in her question. “It’s up on the ridge.”

  This additional information causes my shakes to turn to tremors. I fight to still my body, but a cold sweat trickles under my armpits.

  “The ridge?” I croak. The parcel of land inherited by Giant three miles
up the mountain behind Pap’s old cabin. Grandpa Harrington was an interesting fella, as he referred to himself, and he loved this mountain more than anything. Well, maybe it tied in affection with his love of beer and his wife, Charlotte.

  “Yeah, that’s where they met, sort of, so they’re getting married there,” Roxanne explains while I watch Billy lower his eyes to the floor. A hand comes to Roxanne’s back, and I don’t miss the tenderness in his touch. Billy methodically strokes up and down his forever girl’s spine, and Roxie steps closer to him, like it’s instinct, like he’s magnetic.

  “That’s a lovely location for a wedding,” I offer although my voice strains with forced enthusiasm. “What’s the dedication?”

  An awkward silence falls around us for a second, and it’s clear I’m missing something heavy.

  Billy’s hand stills on Roxie’s back. Her mouth opens, but Billy speaks instead. “Have you seen James?”

  “I have.” I hold my head higher, hoping to restore the shield I knew I’d need to return to this area.

  “He didn’t tell you about the dedication?” Billy asks.

  “No.” My answer hesitates, lingering as I wait for them to tell me about this secretive ceremony.

  “I think James is the best person to explain it,” Billy states, and the tremors begin again, rippling up my spine in unease. “Ask him about it.”

  “William,” Roxie hisses beside him, both a warning and a reprimand. Billy leans into his woman and kisses her temple. She turns to face him, and he goes for her lips. It’s quick but tender, and I blush like I’m witnessing something I shouldn’t see. The action seems so innocent but intimate, and I’m the one a little flushed from watching them.

  “Whatcha drinkin’?” Billy tips his head to the bar where my glass remains untouched. I thought I wanted something strong to dull my thoughts and ease the ache of seeing James again, but I haven’t found the stomach to drink the whiskey.