ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (79 page)

When he walked in she was standing at the counter with a smile holding a glass for him. His eyes widened and then he smiled coming forward.

"You are always full of surprised. Thank you baby, I could use this," he took a sip after thanking her.

"Did everything go as planned darling?" she asked.

"Yep, mom got her new car and is about as happy as I have ever seen her and that is saying something I'm telling you," he grinned and took another sip. "Did you and Marcy have a good time Jacky?" He finished.

"We did. We always do, you know us. I hope you got some dinner," she told him. She could not help standing with her hips at an angle and her posture straight, showing off her breasts in the robe. He noticed.

"I did, we went to Chuck's favorite place," he said with his eyes following her movements and a smile on his lips.

"Pizza again huh? I hope you left room for dessert," she told him as she let her robe fall off of her shoulders. She did not want to wait. It was the first time they would be spending intimate time together in her apartment. She was more than eager.

"There is always room for desert baby, always," he said softly coming toward her. With a quick movement he swept her off of her feet in his arms and she wrapped her arms around his strong neck as he walked back to her bedroom. They kissed enroute happily. He got there and laid her down and then took off his shirt before lying next to her, looking down with a smile. When he began to sing softly to her she felt a moisture in her eyes. It was like her dream! Her dreams were really coming true in all respects. She sighed and arched into his roving hands with a joy and passion that she knew would be with her forever.

BONUS BOOKS

RODEO RIDER

Stepping off the small plane that dropped her in the middle of nowhere, all Sasha Johnson wanted to do was buy a ticket back to her now empty flat in New York City. Either that, or take a cab to Houston. Anything was better than her small destination of Benham, Texas. The airstrip she’d landed on was so heavy with the smell of hot, fresh air and whatever came from surrounding farms, that Sasha was a little sick to her stomach.

“Hey, your car is over there.” The unattractive southern twang that was specific to this particular state made Sasha frown as she looked in the direction the older, overweight pilot was pointing. All of the dirt and dust was going to ruin her car, she already knew. Walking over to shove her suitcases into the trunk of the white hybrid four door, she could feel her frown slowly turn into a scowl.

It was too hot. There was too much dust. The wind was too high. Quietly compiling a list of things that were wrong with her constricting home town, Sasha pulled her keys from her pocket, and clicked the unlock button.

Her life had been put on hold, and she did not enjoy returning to a town that treated her like she was an outsider. Sasha had to quit her job working in the fashion industry. She’d had to pack up and move to a place she never wanted to see again.

A disaster of epic proportions, as her mother would say.

Thinking about it made Sasha sigh heavily as she sat in the driver’s seat, though. It was worth the pain of coming home to take care of her sick mother. Her mother had developed Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and since she was nearly 70, with a dead husband and a daughter that knew her way around the world, she wasn’t trying to fight it. Sasha’s mother had accepted that she was going to die, but needed help. She couldn’t cook, and had trouble walking.

Sasha had gone from an up and coming maelstrom in the fashion world to a nurse in one phone call. But it was worth the sacrifice to Sasha.

She didn’t blame her mother for forcing her to come back. Sasha had been wanting a break from city life, even if this wasn’t what she wanted.

Nibbling her thick bottom lip, Sasha pulled her midnight black hair over her shoulder, and stuck the key in the ignition. It would only take half an hour to drive to her childhood home, and she didn’t want to be here longer than necessary.

Now, Sasha loved her mother, but she also loved her life. The city, and everything that came with it, she’d fallen madly in love with the moment she saw it in a magazine when she was nine years old. It was also a relief to live in a multicultural place, where people did not make judgements about her based on her mulatto skin. Texas could be rough in that regard.

Sasha’s family had a horse farm that had been around since the days when Texas was practically its own country. As she cruised through the small, single road town that she’d used to call home, distant memories came flooding back to her. It wasn’t all bad she supposed, and her and her mom had made a few great memories in this town.

It suddenly struck her that the horse farm would die right along with her mother. While Sasha was all for letting it dwindle into history, she knew her mother wouldn’t let that happen while she was alive.

The old farmhouse that she grew up in, and had snuck out of countless times, looked exactly the same as it always had. Sasha had been gone for nearly 10 years, though. The day she turned 16 years old she left and didn’t come back. Since then, life had been hard, but good. It was her own life, and not dictated by the small town she’d grown to despise.

After several minutes just idling in her cooling car, Sasha pushed open the door and all of the cold air from her air conditioner vanished, replaced with a hot, dry feeling that gyrated her skin. She just ignored how uncomfortable she was, though, and pulled up her jeans a little. The stress of moving had caused her to lose a few pounds, but it was hardly noticeable and she still managed to boast impressive curves and a sizeable bust that strained against her bra and camisole.

“Mom, I’m here.” Calling quietly through the house, Sasha set the suitcase that held the bulk of her clothes on the floor in the kitchen and walked straight for the den. She still knew the house like the back of her hand, and nothing had changed aside from the dust collecting on objects that weren’t used every day.

Sasha’s mother had once shiny hair, but it had withered away into a coarse grey color that came with sickness and age. Catching sight of the older woman sitting in her rocking chair, Sasha took a moment to examine her mom from the archway. She looked sick- the kind of sick a person looked when they were completely at peace with what was happening to them. Her frail body was covered in a knit blanket, and she stared out the window with sharp hazel eyes that her daughter had inherited.

“Mom…” Not wanting to startle her, Sasha spoke lowly and she heard her mother hum in response, although she didn’t look away from the window. When Sasha was close, she peered out of the murky glass to watch the horses graze beyond the paddock fence.

“They’re so beautiful, don’t you think Sasha? I wonder if you still remember how to ride horses.”

Sighing softly, Sasha didn’t have the heart to tell her mother she had not ridden a horse since she left the farm. Her mother was fading fast if she thought she did. She’d never been a country girl.

“Yeah, Mom, they’re beautiful.”

                                                                      ~

Two weeks later Sasha was in her father’s office but the last thing she wanted to do was reminisce. The farm was going to fail completely if she couldn’t start making payments. What’s worse, she couldn’t sell the horses- her mother had expressly forbid it. This was stress she didn’t need.

A knock on the door, though, disrupted her horrible train of thought, and Sasha glanced up only to do a double take. The man that stood in the doorway with a beige cowboy hat shielding his eyes and no shirt was absolutely gorgeous. He had a strong, chiseled jaw line and large muscles that showed years of hard work. If it weren’t for the cocky smirk on his face her jaw would’ve hit the floor.

Why weren’t there guys like him in New York?

“Uh, can I help you?” Supremely glad that she didn’t stutter, Sasha put down the reports she’d been going through and turned in the old, dusty chair to face him fully.

“Yeah, I’m here to work. Read in the paper Mrs. Johnson needed help.” The southern drawl Sasha had never been attracted to came out gruff. Sasha, though, was pleased someone finally responded to her low paying job advertisement in the paper to garner some help on the farm.

“So, do you have experience?” This was the problem with Sasha’s predicament. She didn’t know the first thing about farms despite having lived on one for 16 years. The man at the doorway, though, arched a brown eyebrow and his smirk widened.

“Miss I am very experienced,” he chimed, looking her up and down.

“I have worked on the McMullen’s farm, and took care of the horses, all that stuff.”

Dawning came up on Sasha and she nodded- this man was a real farmhand. Just what she needed to help her with all of the stuff she couldn’t understand, even if he was cocky.

“Right.” Muttering quietly, Sasha rested her elbow on the desk and her chin in her hand. She was supposed to watch her mother die in peace, not take care of a farm and everything that came with it.

“So, what do you need help with?”  The question made Sasha groan. What didn’t she need help with- that was a better question.

“I don’t know- everything? My mom didn’t tell me the farm was this bad. She’ll lose it before she dies at this rate.” Sasha was under the impression that the bank would not force her mother out of her home when she was so close to dying, though. They would let her die in peace and when she was buried they would confiscate the farm and she would go back to New York City like she’d planned.

“Okay… well, my name is Wyatt.” Glancing up at Wyatt as he sauntered past the doorframe, Sasha smiled small but it didn’t last.

“Nice to meet you. You should know I can’t afford to pay you very well.”

At the information Wyatt snatched the paper she’d been reading to lean on the edge of the desk with a low grunt. He didn’t take his eyes off her, but Sasha busied herself another paper to avoid looking at him.

“I ain’t doin’ this for money. Your old Ma is dying. Anyone should do the same.” Surprised, Sasha looked up to find Wyatt starting down at her with a serious gaze and a slight frown on his handsome face. It was kind of nice, not having to worry about forking over so much cash when she could barely pay the bills. “But I do need a place to stay.”

“O- okay then. That I can do.” If there was one thing this old farm had, it was an abundance of space. It spanned 60 acres, held over 30 horses, and the main farmhouse had 7 bedrooms. It was designed to be a place people lived and loved and learned- not the decrepit shell it had become.

“Gotta stable my Marie, too.” Marie, Sasha guessed, was Wyatt’s horse. He seemed like a real country cowboy; he probably owned a truck but rode his horse everywhere.

Nodding absently, though, she glanced out the window to peer down at the horses that grazed in a field a few paddocks from the house.

“No problem.”

Sasha showed Wyatt to an empty, dusty room and left him there. It was almost dinner time, and she had to figure out something to make that her mother could eat. In the end, she decided on grilled cheese and tomato soup before pulling out a pan from the cupboard.

“Hey darlin’. Ever hear of kissing the cook?” Wyatt’s loud question so early in the day made Sasha wince but it quickly turned into a glare as she whirled around to face the cowboy across the kitchen. He was shirtless, but she ignored him as best she could. He had tanned skin everywhere, and muscles that showed off how hard he worked.

“Don’t call me that, and we aren’t kissing. You just got here yesterday so don’t press your luck, mister.”

Sasha glared at the man before turning back around to make sure she didn’t burn her eggs. Much to her apprehension, though, Wyatt wasn’t done teasing her.

“No need to get so feisty, Sasha. Besides, I’m not gunna be in town in a few minutes. Gotta go to a rodeo.” Quietly rolling her eyes, Sasha didn’t have a response for that. She’d never understood the gravity that pulled people towards riding bulls. She didn’t like them and they usually didn’t like her.

“Save me some dinner, would ‘ya darlin’?” Chuckling on his way out the front door, Wyatt didn’t notice the scathing look Sasha sent him. He was going to eat her out of house and home. What’s worse, she was obliged to cook for him since he was working for half price.

“Mom, I made lunch.” Talking lowly, Sasha set the tray on the old coffee table that she used to draw on and knelt in front of her mother.

“Do you think you can eat by yourself?” It was unfortunate that Sasha’s mother had a hard time eating solid food and that her hands shook too much to hold a spoon. When she slowly shook her head with a small, sad smile, Sasha smiled back. She didn’t mind feeding her mother, but that wasn’t the problem. Her mother couldn’t take care of herself anymore, and that in itself was sad.

“Where’s that nice young man you have in the house, Sasha?” Sasha’s mother had no idea that Wyatt was a farmhand, and both of them had played into her ideas. She’d told her mother that Wyatt was her friend, and he was more than happy lead on that he was going to ask her out. Sasha only hoped that he was joking, with his cocky attitude and cowboy sexiness, but she knew he wasn’t. He lived in her mother’s house, after all.