Biker Babe in Black (11 page)

She opened her mouth to thank him, but he pressed her finger to her lips.

“Don’t say anything right now.” She stuck her tongue out and licked his finger. He groaned. “You minx.”

The past week had zoomed by, and most days Margie ran on only a few hours of sleep. They’d spent every spare moment in each other’s arms. Every night, he amazed her with the different positions a person could make love.

“I can’t wait until everyone meets you.” He let her suck on his index finger.

The doorbell chimed, and Margarine stiffened. What if she wasn’t up to snuff and his family told Remy she was bad news, a lowborn gypsy? She didn’t compare to Gloria.

This isn’t last week’s party, and I’m confident Remy loves me.

Remy held her hand on the way to open the door. Her stomach fluttered. Just nerves, nothing more, and the sooner she forgot about what the others thought of her, the faster she’d enjoy the party.

“Mom. Dad. It’s so great that you could make it tonight.” Remy kissed both of his mother’s cheeks and got a one handed, over-the-shoulder hug from his dad. “I’d like to introduce you to Margarine Butter.”

Damn. She’d forgotten to warn him again.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Butter.” Remy’s father shook her hand. “Please, call me Charles.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Charles, and please call me Margie.”

His mother bowed her head in Margie’s direction and sent Remy a pinched expression. Margie swallowed. His mother hated her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you. Remy has talked about you two a lot, and it’s nice to put faces to the stories he shares.” There. That sounded polite, right?

More people arrived. Remy and Margie played host and greeted everyone. A lull came in the wave of guests, and he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.

“Looks like that was the last of them.” He stepped over to shut the door.

“Don’t shut it,” called a feminine voice outside.

Remy swung the door open, and Gloria hurried up the steps to the door.

What is
she
doing here?

“Sorry I’m late, but your mother didn’t call until this afternoon. I’m afraid it took longer to get ready than I planned.” Gloria kissed Remy on the cheek.

Gloria removed her coat and tossed it in Margie’s direction. She caught it on impulse and turned to hang it up on the coat hanger in the hallway.

“I’ve missed you, Remington.” Gloria leaned forward, waiting for Remy to give her the customary kiss of greeting he’d given the other women who’d arrived earlier.

Remy hesitated, and then kissed the air beside her ear without touching her. “What are you doing here, Gloria?”

“Oh, don’t look like that, darling. Your mother invited me.” Gloria ran her palm down Remy’s cheek.

Margie stepped over to Remy and placed her arm around his back. She lifted the corner of her lip. She’d staked her claim, and she dared Gloria to steal from her.

“You know there is no future between us, Gloria.” Remy lifted his arm and laid it over Margie’s shoulders.

“Oh posh, Remy. Let’s not talk about that tonight. I’ll just go enjoy myself and sit beside your mother.” Gloria patted Remy’s cheek.

Margie’s gaze followed Gloria’s exit. Her butt sashayed through the house. Of course she knew her way around. Gloria and Remy almost got married years ago.

Remy compensated for having Gloria in attendance. He never left Margie’s side and involved her in all the conversations with the other guests, one of whom was Abigail Turner, who sent her a wink and encouraged her to relax throughout the party.

For the most part, she forgot about Gloria and Mrs. Montgomery. The rest of the time, she ignored their behind-the-hand whispers and slapped a smile on her face. She refused to lower herself and knew they studied her for each little slip in manners she made.

Remy cleared his throat to grab everyone’s attention. The caterers came out with trays loaded with champagne glasses for the guests. Her heart pounded harder, and her hand trembled. Afraid she’d spill the champagne, she held the glass with both hands. With no idea what Remy planned to do, she waited with all the other guests to hear what he’d say.

“I invited you all to this little get-together to tell you something important.” Remy reached out for Margie’s hand and raised it to his lips. Her eyes burned, and she blinked a few extra times.

“I wanted you all to meet Margarine, who in the last few weeks has claimed a part of my heart that I didn’t know existed. And, I wanted her to meet my family.” He kept hold of her hand and held his glass in the air. “To all of you who have found love. May you cherish it and hold it close.”

Margarine lifted her glass, but before the champagne reached her lips, she stopped and cocked her head. A low vibration entered her chest.

No.

Not now.

She shook her head. Maybe if she denied it, it wouldn’t happen.

“Margarine, what’s wrong?” Remy set down his glass and removed the champagne out of Margarine’s shaky hand.

“Oh, Remy. I’m sorry.” Tears filled her eyes, and she backed away. She knew sooner or later this was bound to happen, but why tonight? Why now, when Remy’s parents and friends gathered around him?

“What the hell?” Remy’s father examined the glass figurine on the coffee table dance across the surface from the growing vibration.

“It’s an earthquake!”

Margie figured it was Gloria who came out with that silly deduction. Stupid girl.

The men stood up and looked around, and she sensed their confusion at the alien noise enveloping the house. They didn’t know if they should grab the women and seek a doorway in case the house crumbled, or run to the window to find out where all the noise came from.

Margie observed the chaos from the chair she’d sunk into in the corner of the living room. All she could do was sit and wait for the show that was sure to come the second the front door opened. She smiled up at Remy. A mix of apology and anticipation sparked inside her heart. Her family’s arrival always pleased her. They needed to work on their timing, though.

Trained to tell how many would arrive, she cocked her head again. If she counted right, eight members of her family pulled up outside, ready to bring this party to a grand finale no white-collar folks had ever experienced.

The door burst open. Remy stepped between her and the foyer.

A man larger than life crossed through the door first. Dressed in black leather, with a beard down to the middle of his stout chest, he glared at all the guests and searched for the one person he sought.

“Margarine Butter, you better get your ass over here and give your daddy a kiss,” he barked.

Margarine forgot about her embarrassment. The months apart from her family caught up with her, and she didn’t care who witnessed the reunion. Despite her four-inch heels and a dress not meant for running, Margie leapt up from the chair and sailed across the room. She’d missed him so much the last six months.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Margie gave her dad another big hug and looked over his shoulder. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s back with the rest of the group. We got a motel for the night. She wanted me to wait until we called you, but I couldn’t wait to see my baby girl.”

Knuckles held Margie an arm’s length away and twirled her. “Hot damn, you must be making dough around here with the way you’re fancied up.”

Margie forgot about her guests. She almost forgot about Remy. She hurried over to Remy and grabbed his hand to pull him over to meet her father. “Daddy, I’d like you to meet Remy. The man I work for.”

Knuckles looked at the way his daughter’s hand was securely holding onto her boss. His face grew hard and he narrowed his eyes.

“No, no, Dad.” Margie knew what thoughts flashed into her dad’s head. “Let me explain—”

Knuckles drew back his arm faster than Remy could react and sucker punched him.

“Daddy!” She moved to stand in front of Remy.

He wheezed and she turned and rubbed his back as he bent over, trying to cough up a lung.

“Remy, are you okay? My dad…” She frowned over her shoulder at her dad. “He doesn’t always listen first.”

“I say, sir, you can’t come in here and manhandle my son in his own house.” Charles Montgomery stepped up, but Crowbar walked in and stopped him.

“No one touches Knuckles.” Crowbar squared his shoulders.

Charles pushed Crowbar and quickly found himself laid out flat on the floor.

It all happened so fast; Margie could only stand there amongst the men in her life and stare at the madness around her. Four of the guests tried to fend off the Chromes and Wheels members, who laughed it up and only threw more punches to aggravate the guests. Her own dad held Mr. Turner in a headlock and poured a glass of champagne over the poor man’s head. She wanted to yank each one of her family members out the door, but knew they’d ignore her for the fun they’d created.

Gloria came to Remy’s rescue, but Crowbar caught her from behind with an arm around her waist and held her dangling above the ground. Gloria screamed and threatened to sue if he didn’t release her immediately.

Remy straightened up and jumped into the fray. Margie knew he’d sport two black eyes in the morning, along with a split lip. Blood already dripped down his chin.

Abigail slipped her arm around Margie. Tears fell down Margie’s cheeks. Remy’s friends would never accept her now. Even Remy might not understand.

Margie kissed Abigail on the cheek and hurried out of the room. She didn’t have much to pack, only what fit in her suitcase. She’d leave the clothes Remy bought her. Where she planned to go, she didn’t need anything fancy.

She walked straight to the garage, bypassing the living room, where sounds from the fight continued. Glass shattered, wood cracked, and she knew no one paid attention to where she’d disappeared.

She opened the garage door and wheeled her bike out. Reefer sat on his bike in the driveway; he played watchman wherever her family traveled. He alone held the responsibility of spotting trouble and getting them out without the cops’ involvement. This time, Margie wished he’d held off her family from crashing the party instead.

“You okay, sister?”

She sniffed and tried to smile at her good friend.

“I will be, Reefer. You know me. I bounce.”

“That you do.” Reefer rubbed his knuckles along the tearstains on her face. “Motel Six, off Thirty-second Street, you’ll find your mom.”

Margie flipped down the visor on her helmet, opened up the throttle, and hit the ramp on I-5. The roar of the Harley Davidson’s engine reminded her of the eruption she’d left at Remy’s house. All her dreams of a life with Remy flushed down the toilet…. He’d never forgive her for destroying his house and reputation with his friends and family.

Margie flipped on her turn signal, shifted down to third gear, and came off the highway. She entered the street where the motel her family stayed in sat. As she pulled into the parking lot, the bikes were the first things she noticed. This might not be a place one dreamed about running back to, but wherever she found her family was where she called home.

One of her brothers worked on his motorcycle in the parking lot and stood up to wave. Margie parked and questioned Crock about where her mother could be found. More than anything, she wanted her mom’s arms around her, telling her everything would be all right.

She found room number 32 and knocked on the door. Her mom yelled to come in, and Margie opened the door. Her mom sat in a chair, sewing another patch onto one of her dad’s favorite vests.

“Oh, Momma.” She threw herself down on the bed and cried. Her heart gave up the fight and broke into a million pieces.

The mattress sank down. Her mom sat beside her, and with loving hands, rubbed her back. Margie hiccoughed and tried to quit crying. Crying never solved anything. But, she hurt, and she didn’t know how to make it stop.

The differences between she and Remy drove the wedge between them; Gloria, her family’s involvement, and the fight back at the house were hurdles that she wasn’t sure they could jump. No, she’d fooled herself into thinking the relationship would work, but destiny had proved her wrong. Bad things always happened to her. Today it caught up to her and played a horrible trick.

Sunflower continued to rub Margarine’s back, soothing her with kind words and reassuring her everything would work out. Margie closed her eyes. She knew tonight that her mom watched her back.

“Sleep well tonight, Margarine Butter, and tomorrow your family will help you sort out your problems.” Sunflower kissed Margarine’s cheek and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.

The aroma of coffee woke Margie, and for a minute, she didn’t know where she awoke. However, she no longer panicked at finding herself in a motel room, seasonal rental house, or a strange bed. Her whole life was spent in different towns and states, one bed merged with the next night’s place.

“Morning, sweetie.” Her mom, already dressed, handed Margie a napkin with a pastry on top. Margie smiled. Her mom knew her special love affair with chocolate donuts.

Her mom stroked Margie’s cheek at the same time her stomach growled at seeing the donut. She never did have a chance to eat at the party last night, and all the previous day her nervousness about hosting had eaten away at most of her appetite.

“Thanks, Mom, and thanks for letting me crash here last night.” She shrugged, embarrassed to have failed on her mission to live independently from her family.

“You were in no shape to ride, and you know you’re always welcome wherever we are. That’s what parents are for.” Sunflower patted her on the head. Sometimes her mom forgot Margie was twenty-five and no longer a child, but she admitted to herself she enjoyed her mom’s care.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” Sunflower sat beside her on the bed and placed her arm around Margie.

“Nope. What’s done is done. There isn’t any going back.” Margie stuck up her chin.

Margie’s mom nodded.

She shrugged to let her mom know she’d survive this catastrophe, but even she knew her show of happiness fell short of the mark. This time with Remy was different. Her heart had gotten involved, and she’d never been in love before.