Love's Choice (3 page)

He held out his coffee mug clutched by a spotted, gnarled hand. A musky smell, likely mothballs, wreathed him. I poured his coffee, then planted a warm kiss on his whiskered cheek. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

Owen nodded. “You get to my age, and you think you'd be used to it.”

“How can you ever get used to a friend dying?” I asked him, sitting down in the chair opposite. I should return the coffee pot, but it could sit for a few minutes.

Owen peered at me with his own good eye. It was a deep brown, intense. I squirmed as he stared at me. I felt so young, reducing in age from twenty-one back to a little girl. “No. I don't suppose you can. Especially not when he was like a son. Damn,” he growled and took a deep drink of his coffee. “Gerdie, why did your no-good husband ever get out of the bar business?”

“Because he was tired of old drunks like you smashing up his furniture,” Gerdie answered, the tall woman walking over to Owen and me.

Owen snorted. “I sense your meddlesome hand, woman.”

Gerdie arched an eyebrow. “I don't make my husband do anything. And you know that. He does what he wishes. He always has.”

Gerdie sat beside me. I felt even more like a child sitting next to my mother. Why did she have to be so tall? Her hand reached across the table and patted Owen's. “At least you're doing better than his widow, poor thing. She's not taking it well.”

“You knew Owen's military buddy?” I blinked.

Gerdie nodded, her smile fading. “Sweet boy. Everyone loved him.”

I frowned. Boy? Gerdie had to be younger than Owen's war buddy.

Owen took another gulp of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. My thoughts drifted as we sat in silence. A motorcycle roared. My heart beat faster as I glanced out the window. A man in shorts and a tank top drove by on a red Harley.

Disappointment squashed my excitement. Not Magnus. He would never wear something so pathetic. In my mind, I pictured him roaring past in his leather vest and blue jeans, his blond hair flowing behind as he rode his mount into battle. Strong, passionate, powerful.

“Why are you smiling, Raven?”

I blinked and then gasped, covering my lips. I was smiling. My cheeks burned. “Nothing.”

“She's thinking about the boy she met,” Gerdie smiled beside me.

“I wasn't,” I lied. “And I haven't met some boy.”

Gerdie's smile deepened. “No, she's met a man.”

“A man, huh,” Owen said, nodding his head.

I squirmed, my chair creaking beneath me. “I haven't met anyone. Okay.”

“Sure,” Gerdie said, nodding her head sagely. “You haven't spent the last two days floating around my cafe with your head full of thoughts of this young man.”

“Floating?” I asked, my shoulders hunching. “I wasn't floating.”

“Look at the color in her cheeks,” chuckled Own. “So you've made your choice.”

“Choice?”

“On your man,” Owen nodded. “It's an important choice.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “My mother said the same thing once.”

“Smart woman. You make the wrong choice, and you'll pay. You'll pay in ways you can't even imagine.”

“Well, I haven't made a choice,” I said. “Because he would be the wrong choice.”

“See. There is a man.” Gerdie nudged me. “You have to talk.”

“He's dangerous,” I answered.

Owen nodded. “And strong?”

“Of course.” Was my voice growing breathy? “And so handsome on his motorcycle.”

“If you can tame the wild ones, they make the best choices,” Owen said. “He sounds good for you.”

“What?” I gaped.

“Strong, dangerous. He's a biker, so he's wild.” Owen rubbed at his chin. “I think he sounds perfect for you, Raven. He'll be your champion.”

~   ~   ~

Young Raven

Charlie ran off crying, his eyebrow bleeding from a cut. Confused, I dropped my weapon to the ground. Tears burned in my eyes. What did I do wrong? I won. I delivered the finishing blow. I didn't hit him that hard. My stick wasn't even broken.

I glanced down at the gnarled stick just to double check.

My mother laughed behind me as she walked across the park from the shaded picnic benches. I ran to her. I liked Charlie. He made me laugh and had a funny smile. We were having so much fun playing swords. And then he had to go and run off crying. He was a boy. He should be able to take a little whack to the head.

“Mommy,” I sniffed. “W-why did he run off?”

My mother scooped me up, her blue eyes full of mirth. She gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“He was weak,” she answered. My mother was beautiful, even with the white scar running across her cheek. It made her seem fiercer—a warrior woman.

“I was just playing like you and Daddy do,” I sniffled. “When you hit Daddy with your wooden sword, he doesn't run off and cry.”

“Your daddy isn't weak.” Mommy glanced over at Daddy lounging on the picnic table, his thick arms spread out on the table. “Choosing your man is very important, Raven. The most important choice you'll ever make. You have to get it right. He needs to be strong.”

“And handsome?” I asked. Daddy was very handsome.

“Being handsome is a definite bonus,” Mommy laughed. “Particularly if he has a cute butt.”

“Mommy,” I giggled.

“He needs to be strong and brave. Someone that will protect you and fight for you. He has to be someone you can absolutely trust with your life. Someone that won't let you down when things go bad. Because they will. Life is rarely happy for long.”

I nodded my head.

“The wild ones are the best. If you tame them, they're as fierce as any wolf protecting his mate.”

“Is Daddy a wolf?”

“Yes, he is,” Mommy smiled. “I tamed him. Not fully. Just enough. You don't want a man fully tame. He needs to be wild to be your champion.”

~   ~   ~

Raven

I frowned at Owen. “Champion?”

Owen nodded. “Isn't that what women want? A man that's strong, loving, protective. Someone that will support them and stand up for them. Who will even fight with them.”

“You sound like my mother,” I said, cocking my head. “Right before the...bear attack, we were at a park, and she told me something similar.”

“Your mother was a smart woman.”

“Did you know her?” My chest tightened about my heart.

“Wouldn't that be a grand coincidence?” Owen asked and then snorted with laughter. “Raven, there's seven billion people in the world. What would the odds be that I would know your mother and then we'd meet like this? But she sounds like a smart woman. I'd listen to her advice.”

I leaned back. “Okay.” I bit my lip. “But Magnus is...”

“His name is Magnus?” Gerdie smiled. “Ooh, he does sound like a wild one.”

“He's dangerous. The night I met him...” Excitement flushed through me. “I made a mistake. I was caught up in the moment. He...helped me out. I was attacked and—”

“Attacked?” Owen demanded, leaning in closer to me. “By what?”

“Just an asshole biker.” My fist clenched. “I clawed his face up and Magnus punched him. He was from a rival club, I think, and, well, Magnus is too dangerous and too exciting to be around.”

Owen relaxed. “Oh. I thought you might have been attacked by something else.”

“Like what?” A being of glowing, pure light that knocked me out and drained the batteries of my car and all my electronics? How would Owen know about that? 

Owen shrugged. “I don't know. A beast or something.”

“Freddy used to be dangerous,” Gerdie smiled. “And look at him now.”

I glanced at Freddy puttering around in his dress as he washed the windows. “Well, I like Freddy, but...”

“She wants a real man,” Owen laughed. “Not Freddy prancing in his pretty skirts.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” I gasped. “I'm not...prejudiced against cross-dressers and transgenders. If he wants to express himself like that, it's fine with me.”

“Freddy was cross-dressing when I met him,” Gerdie said, folding her arms. “And you know that, old man. He's always been a sensitive man, but that doesn't mean he wasn't dangerous in his own way. He didn't back down when some people objected to our marriage.”

Owen mumbled beneath his breath.

I shifted, growing uncomfortable. “Well, I'm glad you like dangerous men, Gerdie, but I just want a nice guy.”

I stood up, trying to convince myself that all I wanted and needed was a nice guy. Someone that would love me and cuddle with me on rainy afternoons. I didn't need a protector. I didn't need someone strong. This wasn't the middle ages. Women weren't delicate flowers that needed to be coddled.

I did not need Magnus and his exciting passion.

Chapter Three

Magnus

I fingered the name tag. It took a few hours searching the internet before I found the Laughing Boar Coffee and Cafe in Seattle. The logo was the same. Best of all, Raven's smiling face, dressed in the cafe's silly uniform, graced the coffee shop's Facebook page.

Her wild scent lingered. I could still smell her even after two days. I relived our passion. No woman had ever captivated me like her. The feel of her silken skin burned into my fingertips. Her moans seared into my mind.

I wanted to ride out to Seattle right away, but club business held me back. I was the president of the Black Wolves Motorcycle Club, Maple Valley Chapter. I was a founder. We were growing fast. Down in Graham our second chapter had opened and we had an affiliate club in Auburn that might patch over.

And growing fast made enemies.

It didn't help I walked right into the middle of the Blood Eagles' turf and punched Talon right in the face. I clenched my fist, smiling as I remembered the satisfaction of the asshole falling back unconscious. He never knew how to properly treat a barfly, let alone a woman like Raven.

“Hey, Boss, they're here,” Big Hoss growled.

I blinked out of my thoughts and slipped the name tag back into my jeans pocket. Motorcycle engines roared and dust billowed as they raced down the gravel road to the open field for the meeting. I patted the handgun I had concealed beneath my vest. Just in case.

“There's four of 'em,” Jim said. He racked his shotgun. “They said they was only bringin' three, right, Boss?”

“Yep,” I nodded. I didn't show the fear building inside me. Fear was poison. It was important, kept a man sharp, but you couldn't let it consume you. You couldn't let it hold you back and keep you from doing what you had to.

“Fucking birdies,” laughed Big Hoss. “They know it's not a fair fight if it's even numbers. But they should've brought more, then I'd be worried.”

Jim chuckled. “We goin' on the hunt, Boss? I'm hungry for chicken.”

“Not yet,” I answered. “Let's find out if they're here to shit all over us.”

“Fucking birdies,” Big Hoss laughed again.

The Blood Eagles reached the field. Griff was at the front, his waxed head gleaming in the sunlight. He kept himself shaved to hide his thinning hairline. His beard was a thick gray bristling before him as he stopped his Harley thirty feet away. Talon was at his side, his eye still black and swollen from my punch and his cheeks red from Raven's scratches. What a woman.

I smiled and nodded at Talon.

He spat.

“I see you forgot how to count, Griff,” I grinned, climbing off my Harley and walking forward to meet him.

Griff followed, his chest bare beneath his blue-jean vest. A thick, white scar ran across his stomach. The story went that he had been gutted in a bar fight and still managed to beat his attacker to death. I could almost respect that man, but his club was full of assholes, posers, and pieces of shit like Talon.

Griff's eyes flicked, studying my club. “You started this fight, Magnus, I just wanted to make sure I could finish it.”

“So we're fighting, huh?” I asked, glancing at Talon and then his two other bikers. Both were big men, one with a sawed-off shotgun slung over his shoulder.

“Maybe,” Griff said. “If you give us a reason not to make this into a war.”

“A war?” I snorted. “Over what?”

“You fucking walked into our bar and decked me in the face,” Talon snarled, climbing off his bike and taking two steps towards me. I eyed the man, not showing the fear that was telling me to run. Wolves didn't run. We went straight for the throat.

I laughed instead. “You want to spill blood over this?” I asked Griff. “Your man was mistreating a lady. He was 'bout to take her upstairs, unwillingly, and bring all kinds of heat down on your club.”

Griff glanced back at Talon. “What the fuck is he talking 'bout?”

Talon shrugged. “Just some skank that was lookin' to get taken hard. Then that fucker walked right into our bar and pissed all over us. He punched me in the face and ran off with her.”

“Yeah, she looked real eager to get taken hard,” I snorted. “That's why she clawed your face up. Pretty White woman's car breaks down, she walks into your bar to call for a tow, and your fucking vice president decides he can just take her. You would have had the sheriffs all over your bar and club. The way I see it, you owe me for saving your fucking asses.”

Griff ground his teeth. “You still walked into our bar.”

“And?” I asked. “It's not my fault if your vice president has so little control over your territory he couldn't keep me out.”

“I'll fuckin' rip your guts out,” Talon snarled, pulling out a knife. It was long and sharp, the type of blade designed for a fight.

Things grew tense. Jim came up alongside me, shotgun pointed, while Big Hoss produced the long-barreled .50 revolver he loved. Griff's men pointed their weapons back. I faced them down. No fear. No weakness.

“You want to go to war over this?” I demanded of Griff. “You want blood spilled because Talon can only think with his tiny dick?”

“It's fuckin' bigger than yours,” roared Talon, taking a step forward.

“Shut the fuck up,” Griff roared. “And put those fucking weapons away. This is a goddamn meeting not a fuckin' battle.” 

“But—” Talon began.

“Now!”

Griff's words echoed through the field. Two of the Blood Eagles put away their weapons. I motioned to my guys, and they, reluctantly, holstered their guns. Griff rounded on Talon and the biker grimaced and sheathed his knife.