He winked at me. “It’s that obvious I’m magic with the ladies, eh?”
“It’s that obvious your arrogance knows no bounds,” I quipped pertly, which made him laugh. “It seems to be a trait you Fallen men share.”
“’S not written in the handbook but yeah, it’s pretty common,” he said when he finished laughing.
“You have a handbook?” I asked eagerly, thinking I’d like to read it.
He laughed again. “Nah, biker’s aren’t really handbook kinda people, Queenie.”
I blushed at the nickname, loving it.
“Gotta go so get into the house and lock the door,” he ordered kindly.
I did as he asked but just as I was about to disappear inside, he called out, “And, Queenie, don’t think I won’t be tellin’ King that your car and your husband aren’t the only pieces of shit he has to make right.”
I frowned as he roared out of the drive and pet the doorframe of my cabin, murmuring, “You’re not a piece of shit. Ignore him.”
I woke up to thunder.
It took me a moment to understand that it was manmade. The deep growl of motorcycles as they travelled as a group through the streets of Entrance had become familiar and I recognized the sound now as it descended on the front of my property.
I jumped out of bed, mindless of my pretty little rose patterned nightgown, and flew to the window to draw back the curtain just in time to see at least ten bikes roll down my steep driveway. I spotted the golden blond head of the man responsible for my rude wakeup call immediately.
Without thinking, I pushed open the old window and leaned out to yell, “King Kyle Garro, what in the hell do you think you are doing bringing this riffraff to my home at the crack of dawn on a Saturday?”
He continued swinging off his bike and ignored me as a huge white truck came down the drive. I watched as he directed it to the only space left to park at the front of the house, on an old flowerbed that was now just dry dirt.
“King!” I called again.
“Hold on a sec, babe,” he called without turning around.
“I’m not your babe, I’m your teacher,” I yelled at him.
A few of the men chuckled but otherwise, everyone ignored me.
As soon as the truck was parked, the men converged on it, pulling tools, buckets and heavy equipment out of the loaded cab. Most of The Fallen men wore their cuts but tons of them were shirtless beneath them, some had even shrugged off their jackets to reveal worn, dirty tees over old jeans and athletic shorts.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I called again, so furious and confused that I didn’t even blush at the curse.
“Why don’t you come down and find out?” King shouted, finally turning around to face me hanging out of the window. “But before you do, put on some clothes would you? My brothers don’t need to see how fuckin’ cute you look in that nightie.”
“Might motivate us to work harder?” Nova suggested.
King hit his friend on the back of the head but I ducked out of the window, suddenly intensely aware of how much skin I’d exposed to all the guys out there. I rushed to my closet, donned an old pair of jeans that I’d long ago cut into shorts and one of my book t-shirts, this one with The Great Gatsby cover on the front. I dashed into the bathroom, stared at my sleep swollen eyes and rumpled brown waves but decided I didn’t have time to do anything but secure my hair back with a lavender bandana wrapped around the crown of my head.
“King,” I called even before I had the front door fully open.
“Yeah, babe?”
I stopped abruptly as I watched him carry a huge bag of soil out of the truck and dump it on a growing pile beside my front yard. Four bikers followed suite while the rest had disappeared.
“The others are round back. Told ‘em to finish the weedin’ so we can move on to the serious stuff,” King said as he dropped the bag and ambled over to me.
I stood stupefied as he leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek.
He smelled like laundry and sweaty, hardworking man. My knees wobbled but through sheer strength of will, I remained standing instead of diving into his arms.
“What are you doing here?” I said instead.
He cocked his head to the side. “Whaddya mean?”
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”
“Babe,” he said with a frown. “You needed help with your yard, yeah? I brought my brothers. We’re gonna spend the morning working on it and you’re gonna reward us by making some of that pulled pork Rainbow Lee is always talkin’ about.”
“King,” I started, incredulity and awe at odds in my voice. “I’m not even going to ask you how you know about my pulled pork. But you’re my student, not my boyfriend. You can’t just be at my house and you certainly can’t bring gang members here!”