Road to Desire (2 page)

“Phone’s on the counter,” Booker said. “Dial nine for an outside line.”

I nodded and picked up the phone, dialing as he pulled open a door and yelled, “Mack! Need you in the front.”

“Hello?” Kim answered, sounding confused.

“Kimmie, hey it’s me.”

“Ohmigod, Dani!” Kimmie exclaimed. I could hear the sounds of the restaurant she worked at in the background. “I was worried sick. I take it your cell phone died again?”

“Yeah.” I glanced to my right and could see Booker talking with someone across the room out of earshot. “It’s officially dead, dead.”

“Where are you calling me from?” she asked.

“Um, some wrecking place I managed to break down in front of.”

“Of course you did,” Kimmie said with a chuckle. “Did you call Ell?”

“Um, I can’t.”

“How come?”

“The shop is owned by a motorcycle club,” I whispered, and glanced at the door again to make sure Booker wasn’t listening.

“So?” she whispered back.

“Hello, I’ve seen that Sam crow show… they’re not entirely above board.”

Kim burst out laughing, the tell-tale snort indicating she was unable to control her mirth.

“Kimmie,” I hiss.

“Ohmigod, Dani, you are precious. Truly,” she said, and laughed again.

“Oh, shut up,” I snapped. “You know if I call Elliot, he’ll get all—”

“Dani? Keys, babe,” Booker demanded.

I jumped a little because I hadn’t seen him walk back over to me. “Um, hold on a sec,” I said to Kim, and rummaged in my purse for my keys. Winding the car key from the rest of my keys, I handed it to him and he nodded then left me again. “Okay, I’m back.”

“Who was that?” Kim asked.

“One of the men who works here.”

“Um, he knew your name and he called you babe. I’m thinking you’re being purposely obtuse.”

“His name’s Booker,” I said.

“He sounds delicious.”

“Meh,” I lied.

“Call Elliot, Dani. Or I can come get you when I get off in an hour.”

“No,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll call Ell.”

“Good. Borrow his phone and call me when you get home, okay? I’ve gotta grab my orders.”

“I will.” I was midway through dialing my brother when Booker returned, so I hung up and forced a smile.

“You call your friend or brother or whoever?” he asked.

“Kim. Yes. She’s still at work. I was just about to call my brother.”

“Why don’t you do that and then you can give me some information while we wait for him.”

I nodded and picked up the phone again. I got his voicemail. “Hey Ell, it’s me. I broke down in Portland and was wondering if you could come get me. I’m at… ,” I glanced up at Booker for assistance, and he handed me a card. I rattled off the address and phone number of Big Ernie’s Wreck ’n Tow, and then hung up again. “Voicemail.”

“Picked up on that, babe,” he said.

My cheeks heated. “Right.”

Booker stepped behind the counter and handed me a piece of paper with Big Ernie’s logo on it. “Write down your address and phone number and I’ll call you when we know what’s wrong with your car.”

“Are you planning to wreck it?”

He smiled and shook his head. “We’ll tow it over to the auto repair shop and fix it there.”

“One of the other businesses, I presume?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded. “I won’t be able to answer, but you can leave a message and I’ll call you with a good number.”

He nodded and I scribbled down my information. I couldn’t imagine what the repairs on my car would be, but as a kindergarten teacher, I could pretty much guarantee they’d be out of my budget. I jumped again when the phone rang… I was seriously wound up with nerves that only a bottle of merlot was going to come close to calming.

“Big Ernie’s,” Booker said, and then smiled at me. “Yeah, she’s here.”

He handed me the phone. “Hello?” I said.

“How the hell did you end up at a scrap yard in Arbor Lodge?” Elliot demanded.

I watched distractedly as Booker and three other men walked outside and toward where I left my car.

“No clue,” I admitted. “I was in the Pearl and thought I was going toward Vancouver, but I guess not.”

“For someone so smart, your sense of direction is pathetic.”

“Yes, I’m well aware,” I grumbled.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked.

“Dead.” I sighed. “Like as in dead, dead.”

“I’m buying you a new one.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I argued… for the umpteenth time.

“I know, sis, but your stubbornness is starting to mess with my schedule,” he said.

I smiled. I loved my brother, even when he was annoying. “Starting to?”

He chuckled. “I’m in the middle of something; can you hang out for a while?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll grab a cab.”

“Which will cost you the same as a phone,” he said.

“Point taken big brother. I greatly thank you for your astute observation.”

“Grab a cab to the station and I’ll drive you home from there.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll head home.”

“Dani,” he said with a sigh.

“Elliot,” I mimicked, and smiled. “Seriously. It’s all good. I promised I’d call you and I called you. I might work with five-year-olds, but I’m not one, so don’t worry.”

“Oh, you’re funny. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Swing by later if you want. I’m just going home. I have to be at work early tomorrow, so it’ll be an early night for me.”

“How about I grab you a burner and then I’ll order you a decent phone later.”

“Thanks, Ell. I’ll pay you back,” I said.

“We can argue about that later. I have to go.”

“Okay, ’bye.” I hung up and slipped behind the desk in search for a phonebook.

“
Y
OU NEED SOMETHIN’
darlin’?”

I jumped (again) and turned to find myself practically chin to navel with the very large man Booker had been speaking to earlier. I looked up and grimaced. He was blond with deep blue eyes and a full beard that begged to be touched. I refrained. Instead, I tried for friendly. “Hi. I’m Dani.”

“Hi, Dani,” he said, and smiled.

“Hi,” I repeated, stepping back for space, but only managing to run into the lip of the desk. I refused to wince in his presence, but I did bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood.

“You said that.”

“Um, yeah. I did. Great observation skills.”
Ohmigod, he is not a five-year-old.
Get it together, Dani
. “Um, sorry if I wasn’t supposed to be back here, I was looking for a phonebook.”

“You’re looking for a phonebook,” he said, and stepped closer to me.

I mean, really. Where the hell was I going to go? He’d just boxed me into a corner. I took a deep breath. “Yes. A phonebook. Do you have one? I need to call a cab.”

“You need to call a cab.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I need to call a cab. My brother can’t pick me up. He’s still at the station.” Why did I feel the need to offer so much information?

“Station?” Mack frowned. “As in police station?”

Crap!

I bit my lip. “Will you please let me by? You’re making me nervous and all I want to do is to call someone to pick me up and take me home.”

“I’ll take you home,” Booker said as he walked back inside, a scowl on his face directed at “big biker man” in front of me. “And get the fuck away from her, Mack. You can see she’s freaked.”

“Did she tell you her brother’s a cop?” Mack demanded.

“Detective, actually,” I corrected and then dropped my head. I needed to shut the hell up.

“Move the hell away from her,” Booker repeated. I took a minute to look at him and his expression was a little scary. He gave his friend a look like he would kill him if he didn’t do as he said. Instead of making me nervous, it made me feel protected. Another clear indication here was something inherently wrong with me.

Mack grinned, raising his hands in surrender as he stepped away from me. I skittered around the desk and back out in the open, keeping my purse in front of me… for what I’m not sure. I just felt a little protected somehow.

“Come on. I’ll take you home,” Booker said.

“No, it’s okay. If you can just call me a cab, it’ll be fine.”

Booker shook his head. “We’re closed, darlin’, and it’ll take a while for a taxi, so let me just take you home.”

I swallowed.

“What?” he asked.

I glanced at Mack and then back at Booker. “I’m… um… aren’t bikes really dangerous?”

Booker seemed to share another secret look with Mack before they both burst out laughing.

I pulled my purse closer. “Well, if you’re going to stand there and laugh at me, then I definitely want to call a cab.”

Apparently, I’m freaking hilarious when I’m scared out of my ever-blessed mind, because Mack laughed harder.

“I’ve got my truck,” Booker said, once he’d sobered.

“With or without a tarp in the back?”

Booker frowned. “What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” I figured if he was going to murder me there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot I could do about it at this point. “Yes, a ride home would be much appreciated.”

Booker nodded and waved his hand toward the roll-up door.

“Nice to meet you,” I said to Mack and headed outside.

“You too, babe,” Mack said to my back.

Booker led me to his Ford F-150, and I turned to face him. “Can I borrow your phone please?”

“What?”

“Your phone. May I borrow it for a second?”

He reached into his pocket and handed it to me. “Knock yourself out.”

I stepped in front of the truck and took a photo of it, along with the license plate, texting the photos to Kim so she’d know who was driving me home and when I was leaving. At least if he did murder me, they’d be able to track down my killer.

“Thanks,” I said, and handed the phone back to him.

He smiled his sexy smile again and pulled open my door. I wasn’t expecting his gallantry as he waited for me to climb inside, but I covered my surprise. I didn’t realize badass biker men did that kind of thing.

Booker climbed in beside me and started the engine while I buckled up. He didn’t say anything as he guided the truck away from Arbor Lodge and I took a moment to take in his ride. It was new with all the bells and whistles, so to speak. Leather seats, wood inlay, and a kick-ass stereo system… at least it looked like a kick-ass stereo system. It was currently off.

About ten minutes passed and I had about all the silence I could handle. “Your real name’s not Booker, is it?” He glanced at me and shook his head before focusing on the road again. “Are you going to tell me your real name?”

“Austin Carver.”

“Oh,” I said, unable to hide my surprise.

He smiled. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Not really, no. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice name. Sweet sounding, but I guess I expected you be to Maverick or something like that.”

“Maverick?”

“What’s wrong with Maverick?”

“Only a pussy would ever go by Maverick.”

“What if that’s the name his parents gave him?” I challenged.

“Then, if he weren’t a pussy, he’d change it.”

I bit back a smile. “I won’t tell Maverick’s mom you said that.”

“You know a Maverick?” he asked.

I nodded. “He’s one of my kids. I teach kindergarten.”

“Fuck me. Of course you do,” he grumbled, and pulled onto the freeway.

I gathered my purse close to me again. For some reason, the fact he didn’t seem to like my choice of employment bothered me. It shouldn’t. He didn’t know me and he was probably a criminal for Pete’s sake, but I was the one who felt embarrassed.

“What’s your group’s name?” I soldiered on, my inability to stay silent when I was nervous working against me.

“My group?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Your club. Whatever.”

He studied the road again. “Dogs of Fire.”

“Why did you pick that?” I asked.

“I didn’t.”

“Why did your group… I mean, club, pick that?”

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know why they picked it?” I studied his profile and saw his jaw lock. “Sorry, not my business.”

He neither agreed nor disagreed.

“Do you need my address?” I was unbelievably desperate for conversation, apparently.

“I have it.”

“Right,” I mumbled. Of course he did. I’d written it down for him. I studied him again. God, he was beautiful. I licked my lips and focused back on the road. “So, do you work at Big Ernie’s?”

“Sometimes.”

“So, it’s not your regular job?”

“No.”

“You’re obviously not a mechanic,” I mused.

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re too clean,” I blurted out. “I mean, your hands aren’t caked with black oil and stuff. Sorry. Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded.

“You don’t like silence, do you?”

“I like silence… just not when I’m nervous. Crap. Never mind. Ignore me.”

“Babe, I’ve been trying to ignore you since the second I saw your piece of shit car crawling down my street,” he said.

I gasped, my irritation rising to dance with my nerves. “Well, you didn’t need to come and rescue me. I didn’t ask you to.” He chuckled again and I blinked back tears, feeling both angry and insecure at the same time. “I’m sorry if my talking bugged you. I was just trying to be friendly,” I continued, because, seriously, I was obviously a glutton for punishment. “It’s what nice people do when other people help them. They ask them about their life and find common ground in an effort to make conversation.”

“Is that what they do?” he asked.

“Typically, yes,” I whispered, and turned toward the window.

I managed to keep my thoughts to myself as we drove into Hazel Dell and down the private driveway into my apartment complex. Not the greatest part of town, but also not the worst. It was what I could afford and it worked for now.

“This is me,” I said, pointing to the stairway that led to my second floor unit.

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I know,” he said, and climbed out of the truck.

Gathering my purse, I pulled my jacket closer around me and pushed open the door. Booker stood on the other side and, again, waited for me before closing the door and walking me upstairs. I unlocked my apartment door and pushed it open, flipping the light on before stepping inside.

“Thank you for everything,” I said.

“I’ll call you tomorrow or Friday about your car.”

Crap, right. I was going to have to pay for my stupid car to be fixed. “Yes. Um, I forgot to ask. Do you take credit cards?”

He frowned, but then nodded his head. “Yeah, babe, we take credit cards.”

I relaxed. “Okay, good. Thank you. Well, it was nice to meet you, Austin. Thanks again for everything.”

He gave me a chin lift in response and turned and sauntered down the stairs. I know for a fact he sauntered, because I leaned out my front door and watched him leave. His long, muscular legs and perfect butt made me sigh, and I realized he probably heard me, so I ducked back inside and closed and locked my door, leaning against it to catch my breath.