Shelter From The Storm (The Bare Bones MC Book 6) Page 15

  I clasped my hands between my knees. “I don’t know yet. I’m still figuring that one out.” I sighed deeply. “Would you like to take a nap?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  PIPPA

  I was on top of a ladder when Tracy started asking me about sex.

  I was painting the ceiling of the lobby of Smoky Mountain High. Tracy and Maddie were painting the walls, at least above the fake wood paneling we’d decided to keep. Since the motel had been built in 1953 we decided to maintain that midcentury retro feel, even though Fox was oddly against it. “I can’t stand that tacky atomic vibe,” he’d said when I had showed off the inn. Why would someone be so strongly against an architectural style? I figured maybe he’d grown up in a midcentury house in New Mexico.

  “So have you balled Fox yet?” Tracy asked casually.

  “Balled?” said Maddie. “Who says ‘balled’ anymore? Sounds like an old Marvin Gaye song.”

  “Well I didn’t want to say ‘fucked’,” said Tracy hotly.

  “Why not?” said Maddie. “Call a spade a spade.”

  Tracy sighed. “Okay. So have you fucked Fox Isherwood yet?”

  It was my turn to sigh. Plus, paint fumes were making me lightheaded. “No, I haven’t. I think we’re savoring everything. Besides, the atmosphere of Lytton’s guest bedroom isn’t too conducive to romance.”

  Maddie said, “Wait until you have one of these rooms finished. That’ll be a cause for celebration.”

  That was a good idea. Lytton had given us separate rooms in his expansive home, and I sort of liked keeping the mystery for now. I was in love with Fox Isherwood—as I’d decided to call him in my mind, and forget that Travis McShane guy—but of course I hadn’t told him yet. There was plenty of time to get to that if we were going to last as a couple. And more and more, it was looking like we would.

  Fox plugging that enforcer who’d been after us sent Ortelio Jones—and me—a clear sign of his intentions. I was just waiting for the blowback from that. Wouldn’t Jones just send another, and another? The next one might not be so patient, and would bury me from a distance so I never knew what hit me.

  “I like that idea,” I said as I got the last unpainted spot on the ceiling. The ceiling was a warm white and the walls a kind of peachy pink. Every color would be uplifting, except for the indica rooms. Those would be painted in cool, soothing shades of blues and greens in keeping with the relaxing effects of that strain. Some of our men were working on drywall in the rooms, as much of it needed replacing, so we really didn’t have a single room finished yet.

  Lots of the Leaves of Grass Mexican workers were helping us. Right now, two of them were tiling the lobby entryway. They also worked on linoleum in the rooms. Some repaired the roof, some ripped out dead vegetation, and some worked on outdoor pathways. The motel had been built to lodge people visiting Mormon Lake, before global warming had turned it into Mormon Pond. Aboveground wooden sidewalks led down to docks at the old lake, now pointless sitting areas. We’d decided to put picnic tables out there with umbrellas so people enjoying a hit of flower could have a private spot to sit away from the road. Each dock would correspond to a room number. Lytton had obviously put up most of the money for the motel, but Fox had made noises about buying him out.

  I knew Fox was there to stay. He’d made some irrevocable decisions since arriving in P and E, and I didn’t know what he was saying to Jones about not having iced me yet. It wasn’t a subject we discussed.

  We also hadn’t discussed Travis McShane since the Phoenix airport hotel. It was bad enough he’d put himself in harm’s way to protect a woman who was cuckolding him. But to go to jail for that? I agreed with Fox—he needed to preserve his own ass at that point. And yes, Lola had moved into Kightlinger’s house after leaving Fox, adding insult to injury.

  Maddie said, “Well, make sure you do it before you have the grand opening. Slushy likes to cut ribbons, so he might walk in on you.”

  Tracy said, “Remember when he was cutting the ribbon at that new aquarium store downtown with that giant pair of scissors?” Slushy had his very own giant ribbon-cutting scissors, he loved doing it so much. “He cut the city manager’s tie.”

  I was giggling as I descended the ladder. June stuck her head in the front door, saying, “Guys. This is my bestie Emma Flantz. And this is her fiancé, Paul Goodhue. He’s the P and E building inspector.”

  “Oh!” I wiped my hand of nonexistent paint on my apron and held it out for the other two to shake. It was pretty handy that June’s BFF’s fiancé was the building inspector. Not that I expected any breaks from him. I didn’t want to cut corners anyway. But it was nice to be on a first name basis.

  June said, “Where’s Fox? I wanted our newest member to meet Paul.”

  “Oh, he’s not a Bare Boner,” I said.

  “Yet,” said Tracy, still painting her wall.

  I frowned and smiled at the same time. “What do you…?” I looked to Maddie for assistance. As the Prez’ old lady, she’d know the most.

  And she smiled mysteriously. “I’m not saying anything.”

  “Yet,” repeated Tracy.

  Shit! Did everyone know something I didn’t? I decided to take it directly to the source. Ford was working on drywall a few rooms down. Fox himself had gone out to the opposite side of town where the raptor rescue was to talk to the director. It was a long shot—he couldn’t provide any references from the falconer who had taught him his skills down in Nogales. He could only impress the guy with his knowledge of birds. He couldn’t even let the director know he was a lawyer. That would involve dredging up Travis McShane.

  I went into the little office kitchen where some workers had brought produce and things they’d cooked. There was a bunch of salsa, ceviche in the fridge, delicious flautas, and a cheese quesadilla divided like a pizza. Strangely, there was a cake baked in the shape of two boobs. That must’ve come from a sweetbutt. I cut Ford a piece of green melon, grabbed a plastic spoon, and went outside to walk a few rooms down.

  Even with the lake so tiny, the views were expansive. Elk often wandered across the dry lake bed. From some of the docks, you could see the red rocks of Pure and Easy that Fox had allegedly come here to see. This time of year, fields of buttery calliopsis blanketed where the lake used to be, all ringed with stands of ponderosa pine.

  Ford was in Room 5 with Kneecap and Knoxie. They were taping and mudding the new drywall. It sounded like whoever was next door was drilling in the panels.

  “I brought you guys some melon,” I said lamely, obviously holding only one spoon.

  “Oh, good,” said Kneecap, eager for a chance to rest. He yanked his face mask down around his chin to take the whole giant slice of melon from me.

  I went to stand beneath Ford’s ladder. “Ford. There was some office chatter about Fox joining the Bare Bones?”

  Kneecap guffawed. “You can’t just join. You have to Prospect first.”

  “He’s right,” said Ford, ignoring my direct question. “Anyone who gets invited to join has to Prospect for awhile first. Shitty work no one else wants to do. Escorting old ladies places.”

  “Cleaning the bathroom at The Bum Steer,” said Kneecap with his mouth full. “Unclogging toilets.”

  “It’s not that bad, dumbass,” said Knoxie from his ladder’s perch. I had the feeling Knoxie had it out for Kneecap, for some reason. He turned to me. “You have to bartend at the Steer along with Sock Monkey, that sort of thing. Look after everyone’s scoots when they’re having a sit-down with someone.”

  “And clean the bathroom,” Kneecap said again. “Good luck on that after Wolf Glaser stuffs himself with barbecue.”

  “Pfft,” said Knoxie.

  I clung to Ford’s ladder. “But Ford, are the rumors true? Is Fox being invited to patch in?”

  “He hasn’t given us an answer yet,” was all Ford would say.

  Good gracious, Ignatius! Fox was on his way to becoming a tried and true blue Bare Boner! I had to absorb that
tidbit of information, but Ford was now asking me,

  “Is he on his way up? I wonder if he could stop by the Citadel and come up with a fuel truck. Some of our paving equipment out front is low on gas.”

  “The roller is completely out,” said Knoxie. “We could send Wolf Glaser down to get the fuel truck.”

  “Let me check,” I said, pulling my phone from my apron pocket. “Oops, he says he’s on his way up as of fifteen minutes ago. Should I ask Wolf?”

  “Yeah, ask Wolf,” said Ford.

  So I went out front where all the paving equipment stood silently. Wolf was supposed to be directing the overlay of the parking lot, but I guess he couldn’t, not without gas. I went around back to the lake side of the motel and sure enough, there was Wolf, shooting arrows at the hay bales we’d set up to amuse ourselves during breaks.

  I picked up one of the stick bows hanging from a bow rack and joined Wolf. Stick bows were harder to be accurate with, and I hit the outer ring of the target twenty yards away. “Shit. Wolf, they want you to go to the Citadel and bring back the fuel truck.”

  “Ten-four. I’m on it.” Wolf’s tongue stuck out when he aimed with one eye shut. He got a bullseye and hung up his bow. “You know, I’m moving into the Leaves of Grass house with Tracy.”

  I sent my last arrow flying into the bale and hung up my bow, too. “What the fuck? Doesn’t Tobias live there too?”

  “That’s the problem. But I’ve been living at the Citadel in one of their crappy little rooms that used to be the War Room when the army was there. I’ve got a view of a decrepit runway and a bunch of construction guys peeing in port-a-potties.”

  “And some beautiful red rocks,” I reminded him.

  “True. I think Tobias might move into Lytton’s, if you guys ever move out.”

  He said that very pointedly, and I couldn’t say as I blamed him. Fox and I were just waiting for the other shoe to drop before we made a move. I’d given notice on my little apartment after it was ransacked. I was homeless. “Oh, here’s Fox. We’ll come up with something, Wolf. I promise.”

  “I know you will,” Wolf said warmly. “Fox is madly in love with you.”

  “What?”

  But Wolf only grinned that wide grin at me, so I went to greet Fox as he got off his scoot and removed his lid.

  “Hi, darling,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my cheek to his chest. I called him “darling” in a half-joking way sometimes, and sometimes he called me “pussycat.”

  He did that now, caressing the back of my head. “Hey, pussycat. Painting your office?” For it would be my office once the motel was open. Randy Blankenship had approved of my new job, maybe mainly because I hadn’t told him it was a cannabusiness.

  “I’m done with my part,” I said, taking off my apron and folding it up. “Maddie and Tracy are almost done with the walls. How do you think it went at the bird place?”

  Putting his hands on his hips, Fox looked at the distant dry lake bed. “Well, I’d have to say…” Oh boy, he was going to draw this one out. “That I got the job.”

  “Oh my God!” I jumped so high Fox was able to catch me, holding me to him with my ass in his hands. I twined my ankles round the back of his knees, hitching my heels in the top of his boots. “Seriously? You’re going to get to work with birds all day long?”

  Wolf said, “When he’s not cleaning bathrooms at the Bum Steer.”

  Seriously? Was that the only thing people could think about—cleaning bathrooms? But it did remind me of that other matter, and I slid down Fox’s body, serious now. “Yes. What’s going on with that? Everyone except me seems to know that you’re patching into the Bare Bones.”

  Again, Fox looked into the distance. He looked stoic and noble this way, and I couldn’t resist brushing my lips against the pit of his throat. I inhaled deeply of his unique pheromones that always set off a chain reaction of lust and arousal in me. “It’s true. They’ve asked me, but I haven’t given them an answer.”

  I looked up. Fox still had that faraway look in his eyes, and next to him, Wolf was imitating him. But Wolf couldn’t quite carry off the look. He looked like he was wondering when Hawaii Five-O was on. “But you’re seriously considering it.”

  He finally looked down at me. “Yes. I think it would be helpful for us. A built-in band of brothers, so to speak.” He clapped Wolf on the shoulder. “Except this guy, I’m not so sure of.”

  “Oh, admit it,” said Wolf, “you love me. Hey. They need someone to go to the Citadel and bring back the fuel truck. We should both go on your scoot, so I can drive the truck back and you can ride your scoot back.”

  “True,” said Fox, “’cause I sure as hell ain’t riding two up on your bike.” He handed Wolf his lid and kissed me. Although he wrapped an arm around my waist and gripped me to him, his kiss was gentle and soft, full of love. “Be back in an hour,” he murmured.

  Then he jumped on his ride, and they were out of there.

  I was completely unconcerned. What was there to worry about with a simple fuel truck run? I went and stowed my apron and grabbed a piece of the boob cake. I sat behind my desk inhaling the smell of paint fumes, loving every moment of it. Tracy, June, Emma and Maddie sat on the front desk counter eating the boob cake too, and pretty soon Knoxie, Ford, Faux Pas, and Speed all came in to polish off the dessert. The hungry men decimated the quesadilla and a big sloppy torta that someone had put in the kitchen. Speed was the only one who dared try the ceviche.

  “So this is gonna be your office,” said Speed, his mouth full of rubbery octopus arms.

  “This is me,” I agreed.

  As I looked around at the men in various poses of the motel lobby, I understood what Fox had just said. We all were a band of brothers in a weird way. Not related by blood, the club ties kept us together. We’d even begun thinking alike. My first reaction to a predicament nowadays was always “What would an old lady do?”

  I didn’t think much when Ford looked at his phone and told everyone that Fox had texted. “He saw a few Ochoas heading up this way when he was heading down.”

  No one else seemed to think much of it, either. Wolf Glaser would have made it into a big deal, but he wasn’t there.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FOX/PIPPA

  I pulled over onto the dirt shoulder halfway up the mountain to the motel. It was the same spot where I’d talked that cop out of giving Pippa a ticket, ages ago. That had been the best thing I’d ever done in my life. I had a creeping feeling I was about to do the second best thing.

  Wolf Glaser pulled the fuel truck over behind my scoot. As he did so, another couple of beaners passed us in their Camaros. That made, all told, about ten potential Ochoas who had passed us since we started from P and E.

  We talked on the shoulder. For once, the ever-present wide grin was missing from Wolf’s face. He set his hands on his hips and said thinly, “I know what’s on your mind, jefe.” Which was funny, because if I was going to prospect for the Bare Bones, Wolf would be my jefe. “They might be finally getting around to retribution for burying their fearless leader.”

  “Exactly. Unless you think those were all workers of Lytton’s on their way to Leaves of Grass.”

  Wolf replied, “Negatory. Workers of Lytton’s don’t drive Camaros or bikes, for one thing. These guys passing us were all gang members, all baby gangsters and crew bosses with Tweety Bird stickers in their windows. Hyenas who will just as soon turn you into Swiss cheese, and then light a crack pipe. I’m pretty sure the guy driving the purple Challenger was Abel Ochoa, Ruben’s son.”

  “You think they’re on their way to Leaves of Grass?”

  “That’d make sense if revenge is their game. Maybe they’re going to torch the fields, lay ruin to the grow houses. That’d definitely put us out of the running for Gunhammer’s backing. Not to mention, lose us a shit ton of money.”

  “That’s it.” I thumbed Lytton’s number on my phone. “Lytton. Are you at Leaves of Grass? Wolf and I w
ere just passed by at least ten Ochoas on their way up Lake Mary Road. We figure they’re heading for your plantation.”

  I waited while Lytton radioed his armed guards to get down to the front gate. Then I said, “You could always call Ford at Smoky Mountain High. He’s got several men working with him there. They could take that Kinnikinick Campground bypass and take the Ochoas by surprise.”

  “Or,” said Lytton, practical and suspicious as always, “could it be that Smoky Mountain is their target?”

  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t fucking thought of that. “Fuck me dry. Listen, let me text Ford and jump in the fuel truck. I’m driving it up there from the Citadel. It’s slow as molasses as you know, so in the meantime, you call him. I’ve got Wolf riding sweep.”

  Lytton didn’t even ask me if we were armed. He probably correctly assumed we were. “Go as fast as you safely can. Maybe you could park behind that big boulder that’s on the right before the motel and pick off a few Ochoas if they’re harassing people.”

  “Got it. Call Ford.” I quickly texted Ford two sentences, then paused, wondering if I should text Pippa. Wolf was texting furiously, obviously warning Tracy. I decided time was too valuable. “Wolf, take my Panhead and ride sweep. Not too closely. You want to be able to see what’s up ahead. If they’re heading for the Smoky Mountain, we’ll stop prior to that and assess the situation.”

  “I’m on it like a hobo on a ham sandwich.”

  I tried to focus solely on the road in front of me. But after about fifteen minutes of driving, texts started coming in fast and furious. I assumed this meant that the Ochoas had shown up at the Smoky Mountain. I just glanced at my phone and saw that most were from Pippa. One from Lytton and one from Ford. The last thing I wanted to do was park the fuel truck sideways, and it had been a long time since I’d driven such a large piece of equipment. I was sure I couldn’t text and drive, so I forced myself to leave them unread.