ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (149 page)

Read ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) Online

Authors: Lyra Daniels

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Holidays, #Military, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary Fiction, #Single Authors

BOOK: ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories)
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Chapter Six
Dilemma

A day later things changed, and fast.

“Cole, we have to talk.” Kaylee said, her voice cracking.

She had her head bowed and she couldn’t look Cole in the eye.

“What’s wrong?” Cole said.

“Last night, it’s putting me in a bad position… you know what I’m talking about.”

“What was so bad about last night?”

He was clearly getting angry. Cole could not believe what he was hearing.

Kaylee looked away before she answered. There was a crack in her voice.

“Nothing was ‘bad’, I …I definitely enjoyed it. More than words could ever say. But we’re patient and therapist. My boss brought it up this morning, I guess he anticipated there may be something between us, and warned me against breaking client code of conduct.”

“What are you talking about? That’s nonsense! He can’t tell you what to do!” Cole declared. Hethrew his arms up and struggled to control his voice. For a moment Kaylee was afraid that they would cause another scene like they did at the parking lot.

“Cole, I’m supposed to be helping you heal. I’m supposed to be doing a job to help you get well.” Kaylee said.

The words cut through Cole’s heart like daggers. They echoed in his head again and again.

‘I’m supposed to be doing a job.’

“So that’s all I am to you, just a job. I’m just a piece of work to help advance your career.”

Now, it was Kaylee who felt the daggers slicing her heart.

“Cole, it’s not like that at all. I, I …“Kaylee couldn’t finish. 

“It’s not like that? Then what’s it like Kaylee?”

It was a simple enough question but it hung tensely in the air. For several moments, Kaylee could not answer, choking back emotion. But soon enough she did, and the answer was simple enough as well.

“You’re my patient, Cole. I’m told it’s not okay to cross that line” she said. “I’m in a really tough position here. You know how I feel about you.” She rushed to complete what she was trying to say.

Cole didn’t answer. He just nodded, gripped his crutches and started to walk away.

“Cole? Cole, where are you going? We still have today’s session.” Kaylee said. Her question was straightforward enough, but her tone of voice was more than a little desperate.

“We’re done, Kaylee.” Cole said firmly. He then hobbled out of the clinic. Kaylee wanted to say something more to Cole, but something kept her tongue and mouth from moving. She could not speak and she just watched as Cole hobbled away. Kaylee felt a heavy tug on her heart but she remained silent, choking back emotions, tears silently rolling down her face, which she quickly brushed away so not to be seen crying at the clinic.

***

‘If he didn’t want to stay to work it out, what am I supposed to do?’ Kaylee asked herself.

It had been a week since Cole walked away from her and he had not returned for his sessions, or her calls at all.

It was a little past midnight, and another late night at the clinic for Kaylee. She had been working more and more overtime shifts after Cole stopped attending his sessions. Burying herself in her work to keep from feeling more heart broken than she already did. This was just another very late night for Kaylee to immerse herself into.

Ever since they were kids, they had always been some kind of odd couple. People always thought that she and Cole just weren’t fit to be together. She was too well-bred for him and Cole was the kind of guy who was too rough and tumble for her. If Cole didn’t want to talk with her, to work through the predicament she found herself in, or show up for his rehab sessions, she couldn’t force him. That was his right, but it wasn’t her fault, she defended, as if a conversation.

“Good evening, Miss Watts.”

It was Dr. O’Bannon. His greeting got Kaylee out of her musings. He passed by Kaylee along the clinic’s corridor, and was in a rush, as always, now heading out for the evening.

“Good night, sir.” she replied.

“I can see that you’re on the way to the laboratory. Could you pass them these samples?” he said.

“Oh sure, Doctor.” she said.

“Thanks. I really have to go. Take care of them, will you?” he said, as he handed her the samples. Without even a second glance, O’Bannon left Kaylee with the samples.

‘Cole. I wonder if he’s doing better?‘ thought Kaylee. It was a passing thought and she brushed it aside as she hurried to the laboratory with the samples. Kaylee saw a man enter the building, forgetting to put out his cigarette and hastily put it out on the floor before tossing it into the garbage. He had a parcel to drop off and was quickly gone. No one saw the trash can glowing slightly brighter with a few sparks.

The lateness of the hour and lightness of foot traffic meant no one was there to notice the tendrils of smoke which curled up from the trash can like specters crawling from a grave.

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

FIRE

 

Cole lifted the beer bottle and took another sip. At least there was beer, his sedative of choice. At least he had something to turn to, to bury his feelings with. 

“Gimme another bottle.” Cole said.

The bartender gave the patron beside Cole a look of concern. Cole was starting to speak loudly, and it seemed like he was well on his way to being drunk.

“Hey, Jenkins. I know it isn’t any of my business or anything, but don’t you think you’ve had enough for the night?” the patron asked Cole.

“Yer right. It isn’t any of your business. I can stand well on my two feet thank you.” Cole said.

The bartender shook his head and the patron agreed silently.

“Hey, Cole. We don’t want you getting all drunk. You’re a war hero. The local boy that did good. This isn’t any way to…”

“You said it yourself it’s none of your business! My parents have long croaked and none of you are my old folks, so I’ll have one more!”

The bartender took out one more beer. “Suit yourself, Jenkins. I’m just saying.”

“Keep your concerns to yourself.” Cole said, somewhat sheepishly behind his defiance.

It was good advice but the patron next to him was not one to keep his mouth shut. Abe Pattinson was always known as a loudmouth and a gossip-monger and he held true to form.

“Everybody knows why you’re drinking yourself to death, Cole. You’re smitten by the Watts girl. Let me tell ya’. I know that type of girl, sweet, sassy, and uppity. She’s gonna’ break your heart faster than a speeding Mack truck! If I were you I’d just let her go, for your own good.”

Once Abe had finished his diatribe Cole turned towards him and glared at him. It was the same look Cole had when he charged headlong into the enemy trenches. It was more than menacing and anything but friendly. Cole angrily slammed his bottle down on the table.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time Abe, so I’ll speak slower and clearer. IT-IS-NONE-OF-YOUR-BUSINESS.”

Cole moved closer and bore his entire body on Abe. Up close and with his demeanor, not to mention massive body standing six foot four, it made Cole look larger than life. Abe started to shake in fear. He was about to say something when their attention was suddenly diverted by the bartender

“Look guys! The clinic’s on fire!”

“What?”

Cole turned to the TV and instantly forgot about Abe. The local anchorman reported the fire, live as it was happening. Cole looked on in horror as the TV showed images of the burning clinic.

“Kaylee always works late these days.” Someone had told him.

Cole tossed some bills on the bar immediately darted out and hopped into his motorcycle. It roared to life and he sped away towards the clinic.

Abe wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked at the bartender who quietly took the payment.

“He forgot his crutches” Abe said.

***

Cole pushed on the throttle of the Harley as hard as he could. The monster bike was chomping the miles but Cole desperately wanted to go even faster. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and he was no longer drunk. If anything, he was on heightened alert.

“Dear God. I hope Kaylee’s safe.” he said to himself.

Soon enough, he arrived at the burning clinic. The fire had spread rapidly, engulfing the third floor of the clinic and spreading fast further down the building.

Cole jumped off the Harley and immediately noticed Dr. O’Bannon. His clothes were torn and he had some ash on his face but was still helping with the efforts to put the flames out. O’Bannon saw Cole coming as well.

“Dr. O’Bannon! Where’s Kaylee? Why isn’t the fire department here yet?” Cole asked desperately.

“I was just going to ask you that! I haven’t seen her! There was a bad accident cross town, but they’re on their way I’m told. She could be trapped in the lab on the second floor! I’m not sure.”

Dr. O’Bannon’s answer confirmed Cole’s worst fears. His heart almost stopped beating and he turned white at the doctor’s answer. Almost as if in reply, glass exploded from a second story window, a chair following close behind. Screams for help were being called. It was Kaylee.

“Kaylee! I’m coming!” Cole bellowed.

Cole heard Dr. O’Bannon saying something but he ignored him as he started dashing towards the inferno.

It was happening again. Just like the battle. Cole was rushing headlong into a potentially fatal situation. He didn’t think twice. Cole felt time suddenly grind to a crawl. His perspective changed and it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion all over again.

He entered the burning building. There were flames and fumes all around him. Cole immediately felt the suffocating and searing heat. It was as if he had stepped into a giant burning fist that was slowly crushing him. Cole deftly avoided some burning planks that almost fell on him. He tore off a piece of his t-shirt and covered his mouth and nose with it, and stayed close to the ground practically crawling once he made it up to the second floor. 

Cole was sweating profusely in the growing heat, and gasping for air. Heading to the lab he desperately yelled for Kaylee.

“Kaylee! Kaylee, where are you? Yell or bang on something so I can find you, I can’t see through the smoke!” Cole said, screaming at this point.

There was no answer. Cole ignored the fearful thoughts in his head and pressed on.

‘She’s all right. She has to be.’ Cole thought.

More burning planks of wood almost fell on Cole as the fire continued to engulf almost half of the building.  Slow motion had its benefits, as he pounced to the left and right, dodging obstacles now falling.

Cole heard gasps, and muffled coughs.  He crawled to her, lying in a corner of the burning structure beside the window, smoke being sucked through it after she broke the glass. She was unconscious. Cole could see that she was still stirring. The fumes had gotten to her before she could jump.

Cole gently lifted her limp form and rushed back through the lab to the other end of the building, for the staircase on that side. More flames and wreckage blocked their way. There was no way back from where Cole came from. He cursed to himself, as he looked for another way.

Cole quickly headed back to the lab, and knew what he had to do. The flames burning all around them left Cole no other choice. There was no time to wait for the fire department.

“This is going to hurt.” he said, as he gritted his teeth and held Kaylee tightly.

Cole’s tightened grip stirred Kaylee. She looked up groggily to see Cole, holding her.

“Cole?”

“Hold on, Kaylee. Time to fly!”

Cole made a wild dash towards the window as he held Kaylee close. He ran straight for it launching his body outward, and then went into a tuck to shield Kaylee and lessen the impact, rolling so she would have him to land on. Cole felt the shards of glass that was left from the chair being tossed out, as he struck it. They cut long and deep but he ignored the pain.

Fortunately there were small bushes outside the window, and it lessened the blow, as he bounced off them and onto the lawn. 

“Good God. He has her!” Dr. O’Bannon yelled in relief. He rushed towards them along with the other petrified bystanders. Kaylee started regaining consciousness while Cole was still curled up in pain on the grass.

The last thing he saw was Kaylee coughing while people scrambled towards him before his consciousness fled.
 

 

Chapter 8

Bed Rest

                                         
             

 

Cole woke up on a firm bed with soft sheets. The room was neatly and meticulously arranged. His muscles were still sore but he was conscious. There was a kettle on the table beside the bed. It smelled of warm tea. The smell was very relaxing and was a welcome change from all the fire and brimstone of the midnight drama.

“Where am I?” Cole asked.

He looked up to see Kaylee standing beside him. She was smiling.

“Kaylee?”

“You saved me. Everyone saw it.” she glowed.

“Where am I?” Cole asked again. It was clear that Cole was still a little disoriented.

“At my house, silly. I’ve taken you in for some ‘home therapy.’ You insisted you were okay at the hospital, after they stitched you up. They could see I was fine, just a dose of smoke inhalation, not as bad as you had it though! You passed out again, just as I put you into bed. Had I have known you were that bad, I wouldn’t have brought you back!”

He smiled at Kaylee and pulled her closer with his eyes. It was an invitation and he knew that Kaylee would not refuse it.

“I’m not complaining but I thought you said this wasn’t right.”

“If the boss doesn’t approve of us together, I’ll find somewhere else to work, or open my own clinic!” she declared defiantly. “After you left last time, I would have told you that, but you didn’t give me the chance to discuss it. If you didn’t want to speak with me, I wasn’t going to push you. I’m not going to force myself on you.” she said, stubbornly.

Cole pulled Kaylee close and kissed her on the neck as she continued speaking. He felt the tender skin of her back and gently caressed her. Then taking advantage of what she just said, Cole pulled Kaylee so strongly she ended up on top of him. ‘No, but I’ll force you on top of me.” he laughed.  

“You have to know, my wanting to help people growing up, my goal of becoming a physiotherapist, my volunteering to help you rehabilitate, everything was about you.” She revealed.

“I wanted to become a physiotherapist and help people heal, mostly so I could patch you up every time you got into some kind of trouble. You must know I want to be with you, don’t you?” She asked.

“We’re together. Now would you please stop talking and…” Cole chose to stop talking himself, landing a passionate kiss on Kaylee’s lips. She melted into his, huge, masculine arms.

Kaylee felt an urgency between them, a desperate need to couple although the healer in her said Cole was in no condition. She took his mouth in a kiss, nibbling at his lips and caressing his skin with her hands. Heat burst through her at his smallest touch and her body came alive with passion when she touched him. She pulled the t-shirt over his head and nibbled the skin over his shoulder, following the lines of his muscles with her tongue.

“You up to this?” She asked, breathlessly.

“Woman, I'm a NAVY SEAL,” He told her in a voice hoarse with smoke damage, “Just be gentle with me, okay?” She grinned and carried on kissing her way down his body. Cole's body went tight when the sensations from her mouth hit him, he threw back his head and moaned, “Holy...Kaylee...”

After a while she stood away from him and slowly stripped her clothes off, turning to hide the newly uncovered sections of flesh from his gaze, teasing him. She stood in just her panties with her arms crossed before her breasts.

“Hello sailor,” Kaylee breathed in a seductive voice, “Wanna' anchor your ship in my harbor?” Cole snorted a laugh given the out of character comment and she giggled, stripping the last scrap of fabric from her and climbing on the bed. She crawled up over Cole and lowered herself, gasping as his thickness filled her completely. As well as the feelings of pure delight which coursed through her, Kaylee felt completeness, a
rightness
, as if this was her purpose, her reason for living.

Kaylee lay herself atop Cole's muscular form, feeling the heat burning from him into her as she worked them both up into a gentle frenzy. They both reached the heights of ecstasy, Kaylee burying her face in his neck as she plateaued.

They fell asleep right there, Kaylee on top of Cole, waking eventually with loving grins and caressing touches.

“God, Kaylee. You’re so beautiful.” Cole said.

“Cole, stop talking. Kaylee teased, ready for another round.

The End

***

MAIL ORDER BRIDE ROMANCES

With one small bag
in her right hand, Christina walked up to the little ranch house in the distance. The cold mountain air felt motionless, which made the surrounding scenery seem so surreal. It reminded her of the hazy dream she had a few nights ago. The pine trees were practically bare, and the dirt beneath her boots crunched with each step she took.

Christina forced herself to take deep breaths, but they did not soothe away her jittery nerves. Her left hand tightened around a worn and stained envelope, its contents of utmost value to her and to her future husband. She was so full of hope and fear it was making her light-headed—or perhaps it was the air here. Having lived in the chaotic, smoggy New York City most of her life, this place was immensely different to her. She wasn’t sure yet if it was better than her old home. She wasn’t sure if she had made a terrible mistake.

She jolted when she came face-to-face with the house’s front door. Her lungs constricting, Christina glanced over herself. Her dress was covered in dust and dirt, and she was certain her hair was a frizzy mess. Embarrassment warmed her icy cheeks. Uselessly, she tried to fix her hair—wrapped up in a loose bun—before she let out a shuddering breath and knocked on the door.

The seconds that went by were the longest of her life. Her heart and mind raced so fast it made her burn and ache. She couldn’t even breathe.

When the door finally opened, Christina instinctively smiled at the man who had answered it.

He did not return it. “Who the hell are you?”

She flinched, her entire body tensing. Shakily, she handed him the envelope.

The man—her future husband—glanced between her face and the envelope for several seconds. Then with clear disgust, he took the envelope and opened it.

Christina instantly snapped her left hand to her bag. She wanted to hold on to something just to make herself feel secure, the world slowly starting to spin around her.

The old gentleman at that New York office had assured her that all of these arranged marriages went well—that all of those men wanting brides would be able to care for her. Sure, it was his duty to make sure that the men asking for wives got a wife in a certain amount of time, but that didn’t make him any less credible. At least, Christina had hoped it didn’t.

The man in front of her shook his head, his gaze narrowing at the letter he was reading. “No, no,” he said, glaring at her. “I did not agree to this.”

Her stomach dropped, panic icing through her. “Are you not Adam Jane?”

“I am, but I wanted a white woman, not no colored. I ain’t some fiendish pig.”

Shocked, Christina could only gawk at him. She was not actually a “colored” woman, as he had put it. Her mother had been of the Mohawk tribe, and her father had been of English descent.

              Still, Adam was clearly upset, so she decided not to correct his labeling of her. Instead, she choked out, “I’m half-white.” The humiliation and hurt she felt made the words taste acidic, and she shivered.

              “Don’t do no mix breeds either,” Adam said. He dropped the letter, backed up, and then slammed the door in her face.

              She jumped. Denial sank heavy in her mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to move. She waited for a long moment in hopes that this had been some perverse joke or misunderstanding. When Adam didn’t return, Christina’s eyes watered and her throat closed up.

              Hesitantly, she turned around and decided to head for the nearest town. It was over four miles away.

Chapter Two

 

              The little town on lower ground was really a lovely place. When Christina had walked through it earlier on her way to James’s secluded home, she had been pleased with the idea of visiting these local shops again. This place was so much more spacious than New York had ever been. As strange as the air felt in her lungs, it was something she was convinced she could adapt to—could even enjoy.

              Tear trails on her cheeks, Christina clutched her bag with both hands as she made her way through the town. With her wedding and living plans completely obliterated, she knew that a new plan would have to be formed. However, she couldn’t commit to one. Should she search for a new husband? Should she get a job? There were no wretched factories here for her to work in, and she was torn between feeling relieved and feeling devastated.

              Christina stopped, overwhelmed. People and carriages traveled by her—moved around her—making her feel like nothing. A new wave of grief crashed within her, forcing more tears from her eyes.

              She didn’t know how long she was like that, but eventually, she found the strength to observe her surroundings more closely. Her eyes widened a little when she realized she was standing in front of a general store. Back in New York City, the owners of the general stores seemed to know everything about their cities—from gossip to news reports.

              With an urban kind of instinct, Christina wandered her way inside this general store, this haven. Once there, the slightly warmer air shocked some sense back into her. She quickly wiped her cheeks dry and tried to make her dirty appearance more presentable.

              “May I help you?” a gentleman asked.

              She looked up. The gentleman was standing behind the front counter, a whole bunch of goodies and cheap tools resting on the shelves behind him. He was smiling at her, so she smiled back.

              “I’m new here,” she said, trembling. The fear of being in contact with another stranger was exhausting, but she forced herself to be strong. “I…I was wondering if you knew of anyone who was hiring for any kind of work.”

              The gentleman cocked his eyebrow. “
Any
kind of work?”

              Her face heated up. “Uh, no, no. Factory work?”

              He shook his head. “We don’t have work like that, here. Some people need farmhands, though those positions are usually for men.”

              “Do you need any help with your store?”

              He shook his head again. “And if I were, again, I’d prefer to hire men. They’re better with these kinds of things, you know. Women are good at mothering and they are good at whoring. Not much else. Plus, native woman like you can’t be trusted.”

              Rage and humiliation twisted her insides and heated her blood, and for a few seconds, she couldn’t breathe. She never expected her looks were so native, or that she would receive so much hostility against them. She stared at the shopkeeper, who indifferently stared back at her. He didn’t seem as if he had been attempting to offend her, which made the whole experience all the worse.

              Choked by frustration and pain, Christina turned away and exited the store. Once outside, she let out a wretched sob. Her grip on her bag loosened as anguish coursed through her. She truly was nothing to these people, just like she had been at home.

              Desperately, she prayed. She was probably quite the sight—a native woman bowing her head and muttering to herself in public—but she was too frazzled to care.

              “Excuse me, ma’am?”

              Christina jumped, her eyes snapping open as she turned. A tall and broad man had walked out of the general store and was walking up to her. His face was prickly with whiskers, his pale skin tanned and wrinkled by the sun. He wore a large hat that was tilted back to expose his bright, expressive eyes.

              “I didn’t mean to be rude,” he said, stopping when he was a few feet away from her, “but I heard you talking earlier, and I could use some help around my homestead. Man or woman—gender’s never mattered to me, so long as the work gets done.”

              Suspicion seized her. Clawing her nails into her bag, her gaze darted up and down this man’s form. She couldn’t bring herself to wipe away her latest tears, so just accepted that she looked pathetic when she stared him in the eye.

              “What kind of work?” she asked, sniffling.

              His face morphed into a tired, piteous expression. And while a part of Christina loathed such a look being directed her way, another part of her knew that if he was looking at her with pity, then it was less likely that he would perceive her as a whore. Or as a potential mother to his future children. Either way, a man’s pity meant she was safe.

              “Housekeeping,” he said. “And I have a garden of vegetables that needs to be cared for. And maybe, once in a while, when I come into town for meat and supplies, I could use some help carrying some of the stuff back to the house. If you agree to all of this, then your pay would be a roof over your head and meals in your belly.”

              Christina swallowed thickly and tried to hold on to her suspicion, even as eagerness and gratitude soared through her.

              The man tilted his head. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

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