Текст книги "Fire Me Up"
Автор книги: Rachael Johns
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
“Um…yeah…thanks,” she squeaked, sounding half terrified, half relieved. They had some talking to do, but first he needed to tell his brothers what he’d found.
“Now, business,” Travis said, glancing quickly around to check that they were truly on their own. “I’ve found some interesting information.”
Chapter 13
Billie didn’t hear a word of what Travis told his scary-ass biker friends. She was far too hung up on the whole “property” thing. Had he just said that to stop Ajax and Blue from throwing her out onto Bourbon Street? Or had he meant it? The way he’d held her hand as if he never wanted to let go, and the expression, almost aggression, in his eyes when he’d told them what she was to him had sounded damn believable to her.
And how did she feel about that?
It wasn’t a question of love—she’d been falling harder and harder for Travis from the day she met him, even before she liked him, and was now well and truly head over heels, in too deep. But property? That set off alarm bells inside her head. Loud ones. Although Saxon had appeared to the world like the perfect husband, he’d treated her exactly like something he owned. And not a prized possession, but rather something he could easily replace if she didn’t tick all his boxes on what he thought a wife should be. Last she’d heard, he’d hooked up with a law student who modeled swimwear in her spare time.
But Travis was nothing like Saxon. Although he valued money, he’d worked hard for his, and unlike Saxon he knew what it was like to live in poverty. She had no idea about how it felt not knowing where your next meal would come from, so how could she judge him? No, instead she admired him for being stronger than what life had thrown at him. For rising above his circumstances.
Whereas Saxon had almost been jealous of her art, Travis encouraged it. Saxon made her feel barely necessary during sex, as if any woman would do as long as he got his rocks off, whereas Travis made her feel…so much. How could she even begin to describe the emotions he sparked within her? There were no words. She’d barely been living during her marriage, but in just over a week Travis had awoken her in so many ways.
It was a sin to try to compare him to Saxon—they weren’t even in the same realm.
Yes, she wanted Travis. That fact was irrefutable. But she could be stressing for no reason. Until tonight, Travis had never mentioned staying in New Orleans or having anything more than a fling with her, and there was every possibility he’d said what he had simply to protect her.
A lump formed in her throat at that thought. But if that were the case, then why had he let her come with him in the first place?
Deep down she was certain he felt the same way she did, but had he truly admitted that to himself yet? It had all happened so fast, yet at the same time she felt like she’d known Travis for eternity.
“You guys coming in for a celebratory drink?” Ajax’s question startled her out of her reverie.
“Sure,” Travis replied.
Billie wished she’d been paying attention. She didn’t know if they were celebrating the information on Blade and the Ministry or Travis coming back into the fold or even her becoming his supposed property, but after he’d told them he trusted her, she wasn’t about to throw that in his face. She could find out whether he meant it later. And if he did, what exactly being a biker’s property entailed. Besides wearing his patch, that is.
She swallowed, trying to hide her anxiety, and smiled. “Sounds good.”
The business conversation over for now, the four of them trekked back inside. It was even more crowded now—people dressed in black filling every corner and crevice—but as the bikers approached the bar, the crowd parted, making way. Sophie turned away from the person she’d just handed a drink to and her face lit up as Ajax leaned across the bar and kissed her possessively on the lips. Billie averted her gaze and glanced around The Priory. She’d been here before but never really thought about what she saw. The people that hung out here were real; they didn’t put on airs and graces like those in her social circle back at home or pretend to be anything they were not. They accepted others for who they were.
“You okay?” Travis leaned down and whispered into her ear. His hand slipped around her back and rested on her hip, his touch sparking shivers that spread quickly through her body.
“Yep,” she said, turning to look into his eyes. She felt safe, strangely right, being here with Travis. As if this was the place she’d been looking for her whole life. And he looked the part now…much more like the biker than he did when he first arrived. The leather cut suited him and she liked it.
He grinned back at her. “We’ll have a quick drink and then we’ll make our excuses.”
As if on cue, Sophie laid four glasses of bourbon one after the other down on the bar between them and then lifted a glass of her own. “What exactly are we celebrating?”
Ajax turned and looked at Billie. It was almost a smile, and the closest thing she guessed any woman that wasn’t Sophie would ever get. “Billie’s joining the clan.”
“What?” Sophie’s mouth hung open a moment. “You’re Cash’s old lady?”
Uncertain of how to answer, Billie looked back to Travis. His thumb slid lazily over her hip and he gave her an encouraging nod. “Yes,” she said, knowing she wanted this to be true more than anything. “I am.”
“Well, fuck me. Wonders never cease.”
The others laughed and lifted their glasses, and Billie found herself laughing right along with them. There wasn’t a lot more said on the issue. Sophie had to tend the bar, so Ajax told her he’d fill her in on everything later. He arranged a meeting with Blue and Travis for the following morning, asking Travis to summon some guy called Prince. Then, they finished their drinks and made their excuses to slip away, promising to throw a party for Billie when all the shit had died down.
“A party?” Billie asked as she and Travis weaved back through the hordes of people. “What for? My birthday isn’t until February.”
“Good to know.” He squeezed her hand as they slipped out onto Bourbon Street. “But this party isn’t about how many candles you have on your cake; it’s about telling the club that you’re mine.”
The way he said mine raised the hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck. “Did you,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out, “mean all that about me and you? Or was it just…”
“I meant it,” he said almost aggressively, pausing on the sidewalk between The Priory and her gallery and taking both her hands as he looked right into her eyes. “I want you, Billie. No way I can stay away from you. Right from the start you snuck under my defenses and made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. Things I didn’t think I was capable of feeling.”
Although part of her was singing hallelujahs at this news, she felt she needed to say her bit. “It would have been nice if you’d given me an inkling of this before you told your friends.” She’d been walked over before and she wasn’t about to enter into a relationship with a control freak ever again. No matter if the sex did blow her mind. Every. Single. Time.
He blinked, as if taken aback. “Are you saying you don’t have the same feelings for me?”
“No,” she said quickly, rushing to assure him that that wasn’t the issue at all. After the week they’d shared, how could he even think that? “Hell, Travis, I’m pretty certain I’m falling in love with you and have been since the moment you kissed me without asking.”
His lips curled upward and he had the good sense to look sheepish. “Well then…”
“But,” she said forcefully, “I’m not sure about the whole ‘property’ thing. It sounds so crass and backwards. As if you picked me up for a bargain at your local Walmart.”
He chuckled and pulled her closer against him. Her insides glowed as he dropped her hands but snuck his up around her back, finding the bare flesh between her sweatshirt and jeans. Who was she kidding? She was a goner. Her body well and truly signed up to this property thing, even if her brain was still clinging onto a few reservations.
“You’re way too classy for Walmart. And I’m way too choosy. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone long term until I met you. For a decade I haven’t let myself trust or want anyone. But you’ve taught me there is good in the world, alongside the crap, and I want some of that.”
The battle with her hormones was lost long ago; now she was losing the battle with her tears. He may not have declared undying love, but she could read between the lines. This confession was huge for someone like Travis.
He continued. “I know if you haven’t been around MC clubs for long, the words property or old lady might seem disrespectful, but I assure you they are anything but.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead before continuing, explaining it to her a lot like Sophie had. But coming from him it sounded appealing. Sexy, even. Then finally, “If you agree to be my old lady, you’ll make me the happiest guy in the world and I promise you, our relationship will be one of mutual respect, encouragement, fun and lots and lots of great sex.”
He stared down expectantly at her and she realized he was waiting for an answer. How could it be anything but “Yes!”
The biggest smile she’d ever seen lit his face, and then he leaned over and closed the already tiny gap between them. His hands were in her hair, his mouth claiming her as his own and she knew that despite appearances to the contrary, despite the biker club lingo, Travis would never compromise her in the way Saxon had.
And that was the last time she ever wanted to think about her ex-husband again.
Finally, he pulled back, but she was glad he didn’t let her go, because her head was spinning from the events of the last few hours and his unexpected confession. And there were so many more questions taking up her headspace. “What about your work? What about Tallahassee? Are you really moving back to the Quarter?”
He nodded. “Let’s go inside and discuss this somewhere more comfortable.” The wicked gleam in his eye told her they’d both be horizontal during any conversation, but she didn’t have a problem with that at all.
Later in bed, with Baxter asleep on the floor beside them, Travis’s fingers trawled lazily through her hair and over the bare skin of her neck as he explained how he could work from anywhere.
“Tallahassee was never really home,” he confessed, “although I tried to fool myself that it was. I don’t have any real friends there and it was never in my blood, not like the French Quarter, not like the Deacons, not like you.”
Billie bit her lip, then asked, “The Deacons were an outlaw club, right? Does that mean I should be worried about what you might be getting involved with?”
He shook his head. “Priest wanted us to go clean years ago, but he got conned into one last job. We torched a building and a guy died.”
She was quiet as he continued. She knew his past, had accepted him for what he was.
“None of us have ever been clear on exactly what happened and why Priest sent us away, but it was the brotherhood we missed and that’s what we want to recreate. I’m not looking for a life of crime and I’ll keep working for myself.”
“Okay. Good.” Because surely she needed to have some scruples. “So what will you do about the Ministry?”
Travis sighed. “I honestly don’t know because we’re not at full strength, but I don’t want you to worry about that. I’m not going to let any harm come to you, I promise.”
It wasn’t herself she was worried about. Not wanting to think about that, Billie turned her attentions back to Travis’s body. Tracing her fingers along the lines of his tattoos was rapidly becoming one of her favorite pastimes. For someone who had never given much thought to tattoos in the past, they intrigued her now. Should she get one done?
She was about to put this question to Travis, but she bit her tongue at the last moment. Maybe she’d surprise him. Maybe she’d get it in someplace only he would see. She grinned, imagining the look on his face when she unveiled it. And then she chuckled as she thought about the look on her family’s face if they ever saw it.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
She shook her head and kissed him again.
Chapter 14
After their first official “church” meeting since the Deacons had returned, Travis followed a still reluctant Micah out of The Priory. But whereas Micah, or Prince as he was known to the club, continued on down Bourbon to whatever had been keeping him busy these last few weeks, Travis turned into the gallery and glanced around at the mix of sculptures and paintings. Funny how you could change your opinion of a place in a matter of days. Billie’s enthusiasm for the art she sold had rubbed off on him, and seeing New Orleans again through her eyes had helped him rekindle a love affair with the city he’d thought long gone. He was in such a good mood that even Rolley’s presence in the gallery didn’t annoy him.
The scruffy hippie glared at him but Travis ignored it, instead heading inside to go find Billie. Yet as he did a walk through the rooms, calling both Billie and Baxter, he found no sign of either of them, so he dug his cellphone out of his back pocket and dialed Billie’s number. Within a few seconds her ring tone sounded from somewhere in her bedroom.
Cursing under his breath, he followed the sound until he found the phone lying under the pile of clothes she’d discarded last night before falling into bed with him. It wasn’t as if he needed to see or talk to her, but they’d barely been apart these last few days and after a few hours discussing the Ministry, he was more than ready for a dose of his woman. Where was she? And when would she be back? Damn, he supposed he’d have to ask Rolley if he knew.
As he headed back down the corridor Billie’s phone beeped in his hand, signaling a message. Without thinking, he glanced down at the screen and almost dropped it when he read who the message was from.
Lorna—Made any progress?
What the fuck? Made progress about what? What was his mom messaging Billie about? Hadn’t he told her to stay the fuck away from this place? And surely Billie had gotten the message that he didn’t want her to have anything to do with his mother. Anger burned in his chest, but he told himself to calm the hell down. He checked the phone for other messages and let out a sigh of relief when he saw they were all one-way. This wasn’t Lorna’s first message, but it didn’t look like Billie had replied to any of them. That was something.
He took a deep breath and continued into the courtyard. Rolley was dealing with a customer, so he bided his time, running his hands back and forth over the piano keys until the other guy was free.
Then, he tried for friendly. “Hey dude, do you know where Billie is?”
Rolley screwed up his face. “Why should I tell you?”
Travis’s grip tightened on Billie’s phone, but he forced himself to keep calm. He needed answers, not to waste time bickering with this loser. He shrugged, held up the phone and spoke slowly so Rolley could understand. “Because she’s mine, and she left her phone behind and I want to go take it to her.”
“What do you mean she’s yours?”
Travis smirked as he slipped the cell into his pocket. “You want me to spell it out?” Before Rolley could reply he continued, “When two people are attracted to each other they—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Rolley burst out laughing. “She’s playing you, man.”
Travis’s heart went cold. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Grinning now, Rolley said, “She’s gone to visit your mom. You really think someone like Billie would fall for someone like you? She’s being nice as a favor to Lorna, to try and convince you to make amends.”
“What the hell…?” Travis shook his head, his insides twisting. There was so much wrong with this scenario. Billie didn’t seem the type to use sex to get what she wanted, and no amount of sexual favors would ever bring him to forgive his mother, but his stomach churned at the thought.
“Sorry, man.” Rolley didn’t sound sorry at all. He shrugged and gestured to the gate. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you go see for yourself?”
What Travis wanted to do was wipe the smug grin off the hippie artist’s ugly face, but that would only show how bothered he was. And, considering he was the one with Billie between his sheets, he couldn’t quite work out why. Turning his back on the loser, Travis strode out of the gallery and stalked a few blocks down Bourbon Street when he realized he had no idea where Lorna lived. Cursing, he kicked his boot against a crack in the sidewalk and dragged his cell out of his pocket, hoping she was listed. Moments later, he cursed again when he couldn’t find her.
As much as it would pain him to do so, he was about to go inside and demand Rolley tell him the address when he remembered Billie’s cell was still in his pocket. He yanked it out and brought up his mom’s contact details. “Bingo,” he muttered under his breath, as in addition to her phone number he found her address and email. He knew the street on the edge of the Quarter well, and in his current mood it didn’t take him long to walk there.
Pausing a moment in front of the brightly painted Creole cottage, he shook his head as he tried to reconcile this chirpy little house with the dirty rooms they’d rented in dodgy townhouses when he was a kid. Could Lorna truly have changed this much? That thought didn’t get the chance to take root before the door opened and he saw his mom and Billie step onto the front porch. At the sight of them together, his heart turned to ice and he felt a physical pain in his gut as if someone had slammed a fist into him.
Lost in their conversation, neither woman looked his way, and he watched in horror as Lorna patted Billie’s arm before leaning forward and enveloping her in a friendly embrace. They looked a lot closer than Billie had led him to believe.
His breathing quickened and he had to steady himself on the damn fence.
Fuck, this was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. Feelings. They made him weak and he despised them; he hated the way seeing Billie with his mother made him feel. As if someone had stabbed a knife into his chest and twisted. Could Rolley be telling the truth? That Billie had been in collusion with Lorna, trying to soften him, to butter him up so she could bring him around to her way of thinking? That is, to make him believe that Lorna was a changed woman who deserved his forgiveness and the chance to walk back into his life.
Not before hell freezes over.
How would Billie like it if he’d been plotting with her asshole of an ex-husband? He couldn’t imagine she’d be stoked with that kind of betrayal, and neither was he. If they had any kind of future together, Billie needed to cut all ties with his poor excuse for a mother. That was a deal breaker.
Trying to swallow the sour taste in his mouth, he shoved open the ornate steel gate and made his presence known.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he said, marching over to Billie, taking hold of her arm and yanking her away from Lorna. He’d caught her red-handed and she didn’t even have the audacity to look sheepish.
“Travis!” She glared at him, her hand immediately rushing to rub the spot where he held her. “What are you doing here?”
He loosened his grip a little but didn’t let go. “What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing here? You said you barely knew my…Lorna.”
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed, glancing over at the street, where a few passersby had slowed. “There’s no need to curse and carry on.”
“I’ll curse as much as I damn well please, and you haven’t answered my question.”
“Maybe if you asked nicely, I would,” she snapped back, pushing every single button in his body.
He sucked in a quick breath. “I don’t know why you’re here, but if you think you’re going to convince me to forgive her,” he thrust a finger in his mom’s direction, “then you’re delusional.”
Billie opened her mouth to say something, but he barreled right over the top of her. “And if you feel the way you say you do about me, then you won’t see Lorna ever again. Understood?”
Billie blinked and then she shook her head, her blond hair flopping into her eyes. “No, that’s not understood. As I’ve told you before, Lorna is a colleague, an important contributor to my gallery. How would you like it if I told you who you could and couldn’t do business with?”
“That’s fucking different.”
“It’s not.” She yanked out of his grasp and slammed her hands on her hips. “My business matters to me, but quite aside from that I want an equal relationship, not a man who thinks he can control me.”
Travis scoffed. “You’re comparing me with your ex?”
Billie shrugged. “If the shoe fits, and right now it most definitely does. I can’t be with a man who thinks he can order me around.”
“Looks like we’re at a standstill, then. Because I can’t be with a woman I can’t trust.”
They stared each other a few long moments as if each waiting for the other to back down, to beg. But Billie didn’t say a word and her lips were one hard line, giving nothing away.
“In that case,” he said eventually, “consider this your eviction notice.”
“What?” Her eyes sparked with disbelief.
Lorna gasped. “No! Travis, please don’t punish Billie because of me.”
“Stay the fuck out of this,” he growled, and then spoke again to Billie. “I told you when I arrived I was going to sell the place, and it looks like nothing has changed. I want you to get yourself and your precious art out as soon as you can. Yesterday if possible.”
“You can’t do that! You have to give me proper notice. Please, Travis,” now she sounded like she was begging, “don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to all the people who display their work in my gallery.”
“What? Like her?” He thrust his thumb at Lorna. “Like I give a damn about any of them.”
Billie’s face crumpled, but he ignored the emotions that surged through him—the sympathy, the guilt, the need. He didn’t want to feel so strongly about her when she’d all but thrown his feelings in his face. He wasn’t asking much…just this one thing, and she hadn’t even considering relenting. What he was doing wasn’t exactly legal, but since when had that stopped him from doing anything he wanted? And even if Billie could afford a lawyer, she wouldn’t dare mess with him now that she knew what the Deacons were capable of. His brothers would have no objection to this, since they’d wanted to reclaim the gallery for the clubhouse from the beginning.
That couldn’t happen fast enough. He needed to erase all evidence of Billie from his building, which would hopefully help eradicate her from his mind.
He was more angry at himself than at her—angry that he’d let down his defenses and let go of the hard lessons life had taught him. He’d been well and truly screwed over, and evicting her from the building, from his life, was an act of self-preservation.
Not wanting to be with Billie and Lorna a second longer, he turned in his boots and stormed off back the way he came.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” someone shouted at him as he careened around a corner. Travis didn’t even acknowledge the person, never mind apologize—he was too focused on getting back to the gallery and packing his things.
Rolley was at the piano when he arrived at the gallery, and Travis didn’t make eye contact as he hurried inside. He tried not to look around while he shoved all his belongings back into his bag, nor sniff the air, which was infused with the scent of strawberries, of Billie. Then, he put on his Deacons cut, tugged his bag high on his shoulder and walked next door to The Priory.
–
“I’m so sorry,” Lorna said, her voice shaky as she and Billie watched Travis storm off down the street.
Billie could barely bring herself to look at the woman. She couldn’t help wishing she hadn’t come here today, but she’d wanted to tell Lorna she couldn’t be a go-between for her. Lorna had understood, was overjoyed simply to hear that Travis had found love and was staying in New Orleans. She probably held hope that if he was nearby and living a fulfilled and happy life then maybe in time his heart would soften toward her as well, but Billie guessed after what had just happened right here on her doorstep that any such fantasies were rapidly evaporating.
Until a few moments ago, she’d harbored a similar fantasy because she hadn’t believed Travis could truly embrace the future until he’d made amends with his past. She wouldn’t have pushed him, though. Saxon had tried to control her and the last thing she’d wanted to do was try and change or control Travis. She’d thought he was different—that there was something special between them, more than just mind-blowing sex—but he’d just proved her wrong.
Maybe she was cutting off her nose to spite her face, maybe she’d been unfair considering Travis’s broken past with Lorna, but the insecurities she’d felt with Saxon had raised their ugly heads. If she’d given in to Travis’s demand that she end her business association with Lorna, he’d think he could walk all over her, and no way was she ever entering into that kind of relationship again.
Lorna tried again, this time reaching out and touching Billie’s arm. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. But I think I might be able to help you find a new location for the gallery, and you’re always welcome to stay here.”
Not meaning to be harsh, Billie yanked away from Lorna’s touch. Travis had been the last to touch her and however much of a sad case it made her, she didn’t want anyone else to erase the memory of him. Besides, she couldn’t consider the future of the gallery now, not when her heart felt as if someone had poured boiling water over it.
“Thanks,” she managed, “but I can’t think about that at the moment.” And then she turned and fled, Baxter hurrying behind her.
When she’d left the gallery that morning, she’d had a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She’d never felt happier, freer, in her whole life. Now she’d hit rock bottom. Even the magic of New Orleans could do nothing to drag her out of this hole. As she walked back into her once happy place, although it appeared as before, all she felt was emptiness. She didn’t know whether to burst into tears or a tantrum.
Rolley was chatting amicably to a couple of young women, so obviously tourists judging by the Mardi Gras beads that hung around their necks, and something suddenly clicked in her head.
How had Travis known she’d be at Lorna’s place?
Even though he was in the middle of a possible sale, Billie marched right over to Rolley. “We’ve been evicted!” she shouted, gesturing around her, not caring that she was being unprofessional. If Travis had his way, there soon wouldn’t even be a gallery. “All this is over.”
A look of shock flashed across his face and the two women looked to each other, their eyes wide.
“What?” Rolley asked.
“Somehow Travis found me at Lorna’s today. What the fuck do you know about that?”
He blinked at her fury, no doubt taken aback by her swearing. Yes, she’d been hanging around a biker a lot lately and his language had rubbed off on her, but sometimes only curse words got the job done. This felt like one of those times.
Rolley’s eyes darted from side to side like some kind of skittish cat looking for an escape, announcing his guilt loud and clear.
“Rolley?” she demanded.
“I only told him the truth,” he spat. “The biker wanted to know where you were and I told him. I thought he’d be pleased his mom and his girlfriend were getting along so well.”
Billie glared at him, speechless. He knew the bad blood between Travis and Lorna would make Travis anything but happy with such a scenario. But it cut deep that Travis had believed Rolley without question. Although it was the truth, she wished he’d had a little bit of faith and trust in her. Then, none of this might be happening.
“Well, you were wrong,” she whispered, the fight whooshing out of her as reality sunk in and despair overwhelmed her. “And now this is finished.” As she gestured around them, tears welled in her eyes. She squeezed them shut a moment, willing the waterworks away, because they weren’t only for the imminent closure of her gallery and she was scared that if she started bawling about Travis, she’d never be able to stop.
“No.” Rolley shook his head, but Billie turned to look at the confused customers.
“Sorry, ladies, we’re closing early today. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Rolley saw them out, locked the gate and came back to her. “I’ve been thinking, there must be something we can—”
“You too. Go!” she ordered, pointing right back at the gate. She needed to be alone. “I’m going inside to call the other artists, tell them the bad news. Get all your stuff and be gone before I come back out.”
He opened his mouth as if to protest, but she hit him with her best don’t-mess-with-me look and he backed down like a meek little possum. Despite his good looks, his charm, his fun-loving personality and their shared passion for the arts, this was why she’d never felt anything for Rolley. He lacked the backbone she wanted in a lover.
What a mess! She needed a man who would stand up to her, but not one who’d walk all over her. Maybe that really was a fantasy.
Still seething, Billie went back inside, whistling for Baxter to follow her. For a second she considered going next door to The Priory and trying to talk sense into Travis, but something held her back.
Was it self-preservation? What little was left of her pride?
No, she wasn’t going to run after him. She wasn’t going to spend her life chasing someone who couldn’t get over himself enough to trust her.
Deciding to begin the arduous task of calling her artists and relaying the bad news, she grabbed her cell off the counter and slumped onto the sofa, immediately wincing in pain.
She bit her bottom lip to distract herself from the slicing feeling of the fresh tattoo coming into contact with the furniture. In the shock of the last hour, she’d forgotten about her trip to a downtown tattoo parlor only hours ago. How stupid and pathetic could she get? Imagine having a guy’s name etched into your butt when you’d barely known him two weeks. But that’s what she’d done.
