Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4) (4 page)

“THANK YOU FOR THE DRINK
, but I can’t accept it.”

“Why not, honey?” The older man peered at me from under his ratty baseball cap advertising a local car dealership. I’d lay down money that his seat at the cafe counter was his second home.

I had stopped for a quick bite at a small restaurant about half an hour outside of Sioux Falls, eager to get back on the road toward Meager.

“I do appreciate it, but I’ve got a lot of driving ahead of me, and I’m staying away from booze.”

“Ah, naw, you can’t leave.”

A bony hand clamped around my arm, and my back stiffened.

“You should stay, pretty lady.”

“I’m not staying. Now, get your goddamn hand off me.”

He only laughed. “You gots attitude, huh?”

I picked up his bottle of beer. “Maybe you’d like this Bud all over your crotch to cool you down?”

“Let go of the lady,” came a stern deep voice from behind me.

The older man’s lax gaze suddenly tightened, training on someone over my shoulder, someone much taller than me. He released his hold on me, and I jerked my arm away.

A warm hand landed on my lower back. My body flinched at the contact, and I swiveled.

Pale blue eyes leveled at me, and a sculpted full mouth pressed into a firm line with wavy blond hair passing his angular jawline and gold scruff delineating the abrupt lines of a familiar face.

“Butler?”

“We’ll leave you to your beer,” Butler muttered to the man, his hand wrapping around my elbow.

“Don’t git your hopes up,” sneered the old man.

“She was waiting for me, buddy. No contest here.” Butler led me to a table at the other end of the cafe.

“Thanks for the save. You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t have to, but I didn’t think it would be wise to have him suffer at your hands.” The edges of his lips tipped up, and he pulled out a chair, slanting his head.

Butler’s aimed that cocky you-know-it’s-true-sure-as-hell-can’t-fool-me smirk of his. But that smirk was a more relaxed version from the acidic ones I remembered him constantly shooting my way years ago. I let out a small laugh and settled into the chair he’d gestured at, hanging my messenger bag around the back.

“Oh, so he was the victim?” I asked. “That’s who you were saving?”

His smirk broke into a dazzling grin, and I pressed back into my chair, absorbing its potency like a shot of espresso.

“What are you drinking, Tania?”

“Nothing, thanks. I’ve got to get back on the road.”

“You heading home?”

“Yes, finally on my way.”

“You had mentioned it the last time I saw you and
Maddie
in Nebraska.”

“Right. Maddie.” I rolled my eyes, letting out a laugh.

Grace’s little disguise when we had ended up at the Flames of Hell clubhouse several months ago, of course, hadn’t fooled Butler, who happened to be there, but he’d kept our secret.

“I went to Racine to finish some business a couple of months ago and to bring back a few things that I had in storage,” I said. “You?”

“Me what?”

“What are you up to? How did you end up here, ten miles outside of Sioux Falls? You look tired.”

He rubbed a hand across his scruffy jaw. “I’ve been on the road for a few days now. Taking the scenic route.”

“Oh, really? From where?”

“Ohio.”

“Holy shit. On your bike?”

He let out a rough laugh. “Yeah, Tania. Of course.”

“Where are you headed? Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be asking, right?”

“Going to Meager, too.”

“Really?”

“Really.” His sky-blue eyes settled on me, and a giddy sensation fluttered through me.

“Have you eaten, or did you just get here?” I asked, my hands smoothing over the paper tablecloth. “I ate. I was just about to pay my bill actually.”

“I just ordered. Stick around.”

“Thanks again for before, with that guy.”

“Sure. Maybe we should stick together until we hit Meager, just in case you get yourself into more situations you need rescuing from.”

“Shut up.”

“Remember what happened last time you were on the road?”

“Oh, I remember all right.”
Kidnapped, almost sexually assaulted, found my niece, who was being held hostage…
“Did you ever find Creeper, by the way?”

“There’s something you shouldn’t ask me about.”

The waitress brought over a coffee, plonking the steaming white mug on the table by Butler. He rubbed a hand up and down his arm, stretching his neck to the left and then the right.

“You want a couple of Tylenol to go with that?” I asked.

“You got a supply handy?”

“Always prepared.” I unfastened my bag and fished a hand inside for the bottle. “I think you could use two.”

“That good?” He chuckled.

I unsnapped the lid of the medicine bottle and put two caplets in his open hand. He popped them in his mouth, chasing them with a gulp of water.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“How’s Jill doing?” he asked. “Last time I talked to Boner, he filled me in on her being a surrogate for Grace.”

“Jill and the baby are doing really well. She’s almost four months along now. Grace is flying.”

“Taking Jill in was really generous of you.”

“She seemed like a good person to me. She was in a really tough bind, and she is the mother of my brother’s daughter. The best part is, my mom actually likes Jill, and they get along great, which is huge now that they’re living together and looking out for each other.” I toyed with the fork before me on the table. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“How about you?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“You. How are you doing?”

“Me?” My eyes met his. Blue quartz. Clear, inquiring, dazzling. My fingers pressed down on the thin handle of the fork. “I’m good.”

“So, why do you look like you could use a drink?” he asked.

I averted my gaze. “I could use some sugar actually.” I flagged down the waitress. “Could I have one of those brownies with a scoop of vanilla ice cream?”

“Sure thing, hon,” said the waitress before darting off.

“Thanks.”

“Decisive and very determined.” He sipped on his coffee. “That can only mean one thing.”

“Says the expert on womankind.”

Butler chuckled. “Yeah, that’s me.” He leveled his bright blue eyes on me again, eyes that made it hard for me to look away. “Come on, let’s hear it. Maybe I can offer you some advice from my side of the high stone wall.”

“I don’t need advice.”

“How about a new perspective?”

A new perspective?

Butler was a neutral bystander. He didn’t really know me; he certainly didn’t know Kyle. And I knew that Butler, the Lord of Shameless wouldn’t judge me. He would be respectful of my confessions. I hadn’t been able to discuss this with anyone. I hadn’t even really wanted to discuss it with Grace in much depth, which surprised me.

An objective opinion, and from a man, might be a relief.

“Okay. I’m getting a divorce, and I went back to Racine to pick up the last of my stuff and check in with my lawyer, but I ended up staying longer than I’d expected.” I bit down on the side of my lip and took in a small breath. “We made this last-ditch effort to try again, but it didn’t work for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a good thing.”

“Did he cheat on you?”

“No. Not really.”

“What does that mean?”

“He slept with someone else after I’d left him, when my mom was in the hospital and I ended up staying in Meager for a couple of months with her and Jill. Kyle and I were officially separated, so…you know.” I shrugged.

“Still sucks.”

“Still sucks.”

“Okay. Did he hit you?” he asked.

“No, it’s not like that. We simply don’t mesh, don’t get along. We haven’t for a long time, but he’s not willing to admit it. We are the true definition of “irreconcilable differences.” He’s more than happy to keep rolling along. But it’s pretending, in my opinion. I can’t pretend anymore.”

“That’s good.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Oh, yeah? Which part?”

“You not willing to pretend. There comes a time when you’ve got to stop and get some real air in your lungs.”

My shoulders relaxed. “I pretended for a long while there. You figure, we’re human, and things ebb and flow. But he and I have deeper issues, and he’s just not willing to go there.”

“To the deep?” he asked, his eyes pinned on me.

Butler was getting this. He was open to this conversation.

I leaned over the table. “Look, I’m not saying I need to be philosophical and intimate every second of every day, but it was enough for him to just be under the same roof. To exchange basic information. To get along. To keep house. Well, to keep house his way. After almost ten years, whatever spark had been there was no longer there.”

A large fudge square with a mound of creamy vanilla ice cream slid before me on the table. “There you go.”

A golden omelet with bacon and whole-wheat toast appeared in front of Butler. “Enjoy.”

The waitress disappeared once more.

“Ah, breakfast for dinner? I like that, too,” I said.

“One of my faves.” He grinned as he moved his dish closer. “So, you’ve been putting in the effort with…”

“Kyle.” I drove my fork into the large brownie.

“Right.”

“I know it takes two to make it work, but he’s content in his bubble. I’m not. Plus, I don’t fit in that bubble.”

Butler dragged his fork through his omelet and glanced up at me. “I don’t suspect you’d fit into any kind of bubble, Tania. Or am I wrong?” He chewed his food as he watched me, a slow smile lighting his face.

Warmth swept through me at the sight, and I ran my fork into the ice cream. “Not wrong. Not wrong at all. One thing I realized was, I’d much rather be alone and lonely than be
with
someone
and
lonely.”

He glanced down, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “That’s a heartbreaking place.”

Something about the darker tone in his voice made me pause. That was certainly the voice of experience.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get heavy and—”

“You’re being real. Best way to be.” He bit into a piece of buttery toast. “Lonely sucks.”

“Maybe I expected too much out of the marriage.” I swallowed down the gob of brownie and ice cream in my mouth.

“No, I don’t think so. Marriage isn’t supposed to be lonely and heartbreaking. It’s supposed to make you a better, happier you.”

I blinked up at him, my heart in my throat. “Exactly. In the best of all possible worlds, yes. You were married once. Grace told me about your wife. I’m sorry.”

Butler’s wife had died in a terrible bike accident five years ago, an accident he blamed himself for. A wife, Grace had mentioned, he’d never really gotten over.

He shifted in his chair. “Caitlyn and I had it good—while it lasted, that is.”

“You were fortunate.”

He wiped his fingers on a napkin and crumpled it into a ball. “I was.”

“You never found anyone else? I mean, I’m sure you’ve been with plenty of women since, but—”

He pressed his lips together for a moment. “Not like that.”

“Oh. Must get lonely.”

“I do just fine.”

I twisted in my seat.
I’m sure you do.

Butler was, in a word, gorgeous. He had to be at least 6’3”, and he obviously put in the time to work out. His chest and arms were defined, his torso firm. His blond hair streaked with gold was maybe a shade or two darker than what it used to be, but it was a showstopper along with those brilliant blue eyes. And I liked the lines around those eyes; with the years had come experience that had made its stamp. He still had that rugged rough and tumble exterior, but now, he was…intriguing. The kind of intriguing that was making my toes curl and my pulse jump at this very moment.

Butler’s features creased under my scrutiny. “How’s that brownie?”

I sucked fudge sauce from my fork. “Hitting the spot. Would you like to try it?”

“No, I’m good.”

An awkward silence stretched between us, and the chocolate flavor dulled in my mouth. The idea of Butler and what he must be like in bed was a much more exciting subject to dwell on than my marriage or the flipping fudge brownie.

Much more exciting.

His playfulness was still there along with the cockiness in the flick of those amazing eyes and that volatile flare in the press of his jaw. But there seemed to be a settled core to it all now, not only that I-don’t-give-two-fucks recklessness that he’d brandished twenty years ago when I had my initial taste of him.

Yes, accent on taste, not the whole enchilada. My choice.

Stupid girl.

Back then, I’d been young, barely experienced, and full of my own steam.

Hmm
. Sort of like Butler at the time.

“What are you thinking about?” His deep voice interrupted my drifting.

“Huh?” I gripped my fork.

“You’re scowling.” His lips curved up as he speared the last of his omelet with his fork. “I remember that scowl real well.”

I met his gaze, and my stomach fluttered. We both knew what he was referring to.

Over twenty years ago, we’d been different people, both of us raw, aggressive, full of ourselves, and full of shit. Both of us lashing out and using each other to do it.

Both of us.