Wreck & Ruin: Chapter 4
Colt’s humor had thrown me for yet another loop. I’d seen him stoic, broody, and now teasing and blatantly sexual.
Shaking away thoughts of the surly biker, I looked in the mirror.
Big mistake.
Scratches covered my cheeks and dirt smudged my pale skin. My brown hair was a tangled mess, and I looked less lady-in-distress and more street urchin.
Pulling myself away from my terrifying reflection, I went over to the tub and turned off the water. I sat on the edge and moved to roll up my pajama pants, forgetting about my injured wrist.
“Son of a bitch!” I cursed, closing my eyes in pain as tears formed. When the throbbing in my wrist lessened, I scrunched up my pajama bottoms, using only my good hand, and then eased my feet in the warm bath water. They stung, and I gritted my teeth as I reached for the soap. I tried to brace myself, but my control was precarious. Losing my balance, I fell into the tub, hitting elbows and knees. Before I could even yell for aid, the bathroom door opened and Colt loomed in the doorway.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” he muttered, coming toward me.
I was fighting tears, and when I looked up at him, it was through watery eyes and a curtain of drenched hair. “I think I need help.”
“No shit,” he said in wry amusement and leaned over to help me out of the tub.
“Are there any women here who could help me?”
“Nope. It’s me or no help at all. It’s nothin’ I haven’t seen before, darlin’.
“I don’t even know you.”
“That didn’t stop you from approaching me at Dive Bar.”
I sighed. “That was out of necessity.”
“And this isn’t necessity? You nearly drowned yourself trying to save your pride.”
“Why does it seem like there are different versions of you? I’m not sure which one I’m getting right now.”
“Explain.”
“Do you always speak in one word commands?”
“Usually.”
I rolled my eyes. “When I asked you to help me get rid of the guy at the bar, you kissed me.”
“I remember.”
“Then I saw you in the alleyway…”
“Yeah. And? Were you scared of me?”
I thought for a moment. “At first, but then you explained what was going on and…”
“And?” he prodded.
“When I realized why you were fighting I wasn’t scared anymore. And when you touched me, you were gentle.”
“I don’t hurt women.”
“Why were you so mad when you saw me this morning on your steps?”
“I thought someone beat you.”
Warmth curled through me, but I shoved it aside. “Now you’re being kind to me. Why?”
“Seems like you need it. Are you done busting my chops?”
“I guess so.”
“Arms up.”
“No.” I stated. “I’m not wearing a bra.”
His smile was slow. “Yeah. I know.”
“Bite me.”
“Don’t tempt me, babe.”
“Don’t babe me. And the pajama tank stays on.”
“Fine. Put your hand on my shoulder,” he commanded, playing with the drawstring of my pajama pants. I placed my good hand on him to keep my balance. My gaze found a spot on the far wall while he slid my pants down over my legs. I stepped out of them, clad in nothing but black, serviceable underwear.
Granny panties.
I wanted to die of embarrassment.
“Hmmm.”
“Don’t,” I warned. “Just don’t.”
His smile was full of laughter and teasing as he stood up straight. Colt’s hands went to my hips and a spear of heat went through me.
Unexpected.
Unwelcome.
Sort of.
“Sit on the edge of the tub. Stick your feet in the water and try not to fall in this time.”
“Where are you going?” I asked him when he moved away, taking his smile and warmth with him.
“Getting a washcloth.”
“Oh.”
He didn’t go far, just to a narrow linen closet to pull out a green washcloth and a big matching towel. After setting the towel on the sink, he came back to the tub. He kneeled and dunked the washcloth into the tepid water.
“Give me your foot.”
I awkwardly swung around and set a tender, scraped foot onto his knee. I marveled at his caress. For such a large man, a rough biker, it was completely surprising. He cleaned my foot and then gestured for the other. Just as he was finishing up, there was a knock on the bathroom door and then a female head popped in.
I frowned. Colt had said there were no women here to help me. Had he lied?
“Hi,” she greeted with a smile, her eyes darting between Colt and me.
“Hey.” Colt’s answering grin was easy when he looked at her, and useless jealousy blasted through my stomach.
“Clear out,” she commanded. “Let me get a look at the patient.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Colt gently set my foot down and then stood.
“Thanks for your help,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling shy. He nodded and dipped out of the bathroom, leaving me with the unknown woman.
“I’m Joni,” she introduced. “Colt got you out of your clothes already, huh?” Her blue eyes were teasing. She wore indigo scrubs with a pink heart pattern all over them and her sorrel brown hair was pulled into a perky ponytail.
“What?” I asked.
“Just giving you a hard time,” Joni said. “Let me see your wrist.” She examined my swollen appendage, and when she grazed the bones on the outside of my wrist, I saw stars and scrunched my eyes closed in anguish.
“Ah, sugar, I’m sorry. I can wrap it now, but you need an X-ray. I think it’s probably just a bad sprain, but it could be broken based on the pain you’re feeling.”
“Damn,” I muttered.
“Have you taken anything for the pain yet?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Idiot,” Joni stated. “Colt—not you. Give me a minute to find some Tylenol. You should ice it immediately.”
She left me in the bathroom for a few minutes and then came back with a glass of water, four pills, and a bag of mixed frozen vegetables.
I swallowed the pills and then gave her my wrist. She was gentle as she wrapped it, crooning words of encouragement. When she was finished, she set my hand in my lap, covering it with the frozen veggies.
“Let me take a look at your feet. Jeez, what are you, a size six?”
“Five,” I corrected.
She shook her head. “I’m a size nine.” She set my right foot down. “You should stay off your feet, but you didn’t cut yourself deep. They will heal in a few days. Colt washed them with soap?”
“Yeah.”
Joni helped me out of the bathroom and into Colt’s room. She made me sit on the bed and then with great authority, opened a drawer of Colt’s dresser. Pulling out a pair of his navy boxers, she looked over her shoulder at me.
“Here,” she said. “You can wear these for now. I’ll throw your pajama bottoms in the wash for you.”
“Ah, thanks.” I pulled on the boxers, relieved that I wouldn’t have to parade around in my underwear. “You know your way around here…”
“I’m Colt’s sister,” she explained with a wide smile.
There was no mistaking the curl of relief that settled low in my belly.
Huh.
“Oh, I don’t—I didn’t think—”
Her grin intensified. “Yeah, you were thinking something about me, but you were too polite to ask. You rest now. I’ll go get you a plate of food.”
She shut the door behind her and I was alone on a surprisingly comfortable bed that begged me to take a nap.
A few minutes later, Joni returned with a plate of steaming food and a mug of hot coffee. My mouth watered. The fast food sandwich had been nothing more than a gut plug.
“Eat,” she commanded.
“You know, you don’t look a thing like your brother, but you have the same domineering personality,” I said as I dutifully lifted a bite of scrambled eggs toward my mouth.
She smiled. “Noticed that already, did you?”
“Maybe.”
“I look like our mom. Colt looks like our dad,” she said, explaining away their lack of resemblance.
I ate while Joni kept up a steady stream of chatter about her nursing job at the hospital. I didn’t have to contribute to the conversation, which was nice.
“So…you asked him to help you get rid of a jerk giving you a hard time at your work?” Her blue eyes were wide with curiosity.
The fork stopped halfway to my mouth. “How did you know that?”
“Zip told me.” She grinned, but then her smile slipped. “Zip said you also saw Colt fighting.”
I nodded. “It was—I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“My brother is crazy protective of women.”
“I’m glad he and Zip were there and prevented something really bad from happening to that woman.”
“Seems like good fortune, doesn’t it?”
“Very. They’re like leather-wearing guardian angels.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” She laughed. “So tell me something… My brother was smiling when he left the bathroom. That’s very unlike Colt. What did you say to him?”
“He wanted to take off my pants; I told him in his dreams. Unfortunately, I nearly drowned trying to take care of myself, so I needed his help and he got to take them off anyway. I think he enjoyed the show.”
She chuckled. “Keep giving him grief. He needs it.”
I didn’t want to tell her I wouldn’t be around to give her brother grief, but decided to keep it to myself.
I wondered why the thought depressed me.
After I ate, dressed, and had a cup of coffee, Colt drove me to the hospital where Joni worked. Awkwardly explaining to her that I didn’t have medical insurance was embarrassing, to say the least. She dismissed my statement with a wave of her hand and told me not to worry about it. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I did have pride. Charity was charity, right? Still, I needed to know how badly I’d messed up my wrist and there was no amount of pride that would get in the way of that.
The X-ray confirmed I had a hairline fracture. It was an injury that would heal, but it would take close to six weeks and I’d have to wear a cast. I was also advised not to drive.
“Color preference?” Joni asked. “For your cast.”
“Oh. Purple, I guess.”
Forty-five minutes later, Colt drove me back to the clubhouse. He didn’t say a word and I kept my gaze on my injured wrist, feeling trapped, defeated, and generally pathetic.
I took a seat on the couch and rested my head against the back cushion. Zip came down the long hall, shrugging in to his leather vest. Colt sat in one of the recliners and Zip gave him a chin nod in the way of a greeting and then went to pour himself a cup of coffee.
“There’s an Iron Horsemen prospect camped out in your house,” Zip said as he took a seat in the other recliner across the coffee table, facing Colt.
I looked up at him. “So that means…”
“Couldn’t get your stuff. Couldn’t get your keys or your truck.”
“So then I’m stuck.”
Stuck in town. Stuck wearing the same clothes. Stuck without access to my bank account.
What the hell was I going to do? I had no money, no ID. I couldn’t drive even if I’d had my truck due to my stupid wrist. I didn’t have a safe place to stay—I wasn’t going to ask if I could crash with Shelly and Mark.
“Mia? Mia!”
“Huh?” I looked at Zip and then at Colt. “Sorry. I zoned out. What did you say?”
“I was askin’ if your wrist is hurting,” Colt growled.
He was back to surly—his general MO. I’d realized that at the hospital when he told me to sit my ass down and wait while he went to find us coffee. He grumbled as he took care of me, but he did take care of me.
“Yeah, it hurts a bit,” I admitted.
“I got it. I’ll grab you the Tylenol and a glass of water,” Zip said, getting up.
“Thanks.”
“You got a prescription for something stronger,” Colt reminded me. “I can get one of the boys to fill it.”
“No thanks,” I said. “Never touch the strong stuff. I like to stay in control.”
Colt peered at me with intelligent brown eyes. “I respect that,” he said softly. “What are you thinkin’?”
I shrugged.
“That’s not an answer. Talk to me.”
I bristled at his command and glared at him. “You know the saying you catch more flies with honey?”
“You catch more flies with shit.”
I blinked. “Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?”
He sighed like I exhausted him.
“Where am I supposed to stay?” I blurted out. “I can’t go home, obviously.”
Colt stood, looming over me, his usual scowl in place.
“Don’t look at me that way,” I seethed. “I have the right to be upset.”
His face softened. “Mia—”
“I’ve got nothing, Colt.” The anger vanished from my tone as suddenly as it had come. Fury was exhausting, and I didn’t have the energy to waste on it. “I don’t have access to my bank account. I don’t have my driver’s license. Christ, I don’t even have my own clothes and there’s some strange man in my fucking house.”
After a moment, he said, “You’ll stay here.”
“Here?”
He nodded. “The clubhouse. You can crash in my room.”
I frowned. “With you?”
“I don’t live at the clubhouse, Mia. I have a house.”
“Then why do you have a room here?”
“It’s a place to crash after the parties. I don’t always want to drive home at four in the morning.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Colt shook his head. “Look, you’re shit out of luck right now. Even if you had your truck, you can’t drive yet. Your only option is to stay here.”
“That’s not the only option. I can stay with a friend—”
Colt interrupted, “Right now you’re a burden, and anyone you stay with is going to be put at risk.”
“You’re an ass,” I snapped even though I’d already gone through the same logic in my head and come to the exact same conclusion.
“No, I just tell it like it is. Besides, why wouldn’t you stay here? We’ve got the space.”
“Maybe because I don’t feel entirely welcome. What did you call me? A burden?”
“Jesus, woman.” Colt ran a hand through his dark hair in obvious frustration. “I’m trying to help you out and—”
“I don’t need your help, you arrogant—”
“She can’t stay here,” Zip interrupted as he walked back into the living room holding a glass of water in one hand and a few pills in the other.
I jumped, having completely forgotten he was in the same room and witnessing my argument with Colt. My cheeks heated in embarrassment at my behavior. Colt was turning me into an angry shrew.
“Why not?” Colt demanded with a glare at Zip.
“You said it yourself—the clubhouse is a place to crash after parties. And you know how wild they get. Wild is a tame word for it, actually.” Zip grinned. “Nice girls like Mia don’t belong at our parties. She can stay with me.”
“Like hell she will,” Colt boomed.
My gaze bounced back and forth between the two men. Zip was smiling, relaxed, while Colt looked like he wanted to pummel Zip into the ground.
“Doesn’t she have a say in things?” I ventured to voice. Neither one of them was paying any attention to me, so my question fell on deaf ears.
“You’re right, Prez,” Zip drawled. “She should stay with you. It’s just for a little while, right?”
Colt’s scowl could peel chrome off a trailer hitch, and I was glad it wasn’t directed at me.
“You’ve got a guest room,” Zip pushed. “Oh, wait, you have that one little rule, don’t you?”
“What rule?” I asked.
“Zip,” Colt warned.
Zip’s grin widened. “He doesn’t bring women back to his house. Not ones he wants to fu—”
“Shut it!” Colt yelled, making me jump. “Mia, let’s go.”
“Go?”
“My house.”
“Yeah, no. I’m good. I’ll just stay here.”
“I’m not asking, I’m telling. Now get your ass up. You’re coming with me. And you can save the smart ass retort.”
Apparently I was taking too long to follow his edicts because he reached down and scooped me up into his arms.
Right now, I was dealing with Colt, MC president. But earlier, when he’d washed my feet, I had been dealing with someone else. Perhaps that was the man beneath the leather.
“Bye, darlin’. See you later,” Zip said with an irreverent grin and a wave.
“Yeah, if Colt and I don’t end up killing each other, I’ll see you later.”
Zip’s laughter followed us out onto the porch and then faded away. Colt managed to open the passenger side door of the truck with me still in his arms and he set me down on the seat.
“Buckle up,” he commanded.
I rolled my eyes but did as he said. I shook my head. “You’re such a grumpy old man.”
Colt came around to the driver’s side and hoisted his large body into the seat. He closed the door and then jammed the key into the ignition. “I may be grumpy, but I’m not old.”
“Whatever. You’ve got to be pushing what—thirty-five?”
“Thirty-eight,” he admitted.
“Positively ancient.”
“Are you even legal, darlin’?”
“I’m twenty-five.”
“Baby.”
I hated his mocking tone. “It’s okay, Grandpa,” I taunted. “You couldn’t keep up with me.”
“You wanna bet?”
The carnal promise in his voice was so unexpected I couldn’t stop the shiver that raced down my spine. I stared out the window and pretended he didn’t affect me. That was the last thing I needed. Getting involved with one biker president while trying to run from another.
“I don’t like grumpy men,” I huffed.
“Maybe not. But you like me.”
“I do not.”
Colt’s gaze dipped down my body and lingered on my breasts. “Then your nipples are liars.”
“You’re crass. And an asshole.”
His smile was slow, heated. “Yeah. And you definitely like it.”
We drove to Colt’s home in silence. After he’d commented on the state of my nipples, I was feeling a bit exposed. My wrist was in a cast and I had a cut along the apple of my cheek. I was feeling needy and he’d called me a burden.
I peered at Colt out of the corner of my eye, trying to discreetly study him. He was attractive, there was no denying it. Coffee colored dark hair, brown eyes, stubble for days. Not to mention his body. Tall and broad. Tatted. Muscled. He smelled like woodsmoke and something else …something entirely uniquely him. I’d tried not to pay attention to his scent, but the man had carried me several times and it was impossible not to notice.
Colt turned his head and caught me staring at him. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his aviators, but his grin said enough.
“Almost there,” he said.
“Good.”
He chuckled but fell silent again.
We were twenty minutes outside of Waco when he turned off the main road onto another path. After a few miles of windy gravel, we arrived at his place. It was a two-story white home that looked like it had been built in the forties. The lawn was well-kept, and the trim was newly painted. There was a swing on the wraparound screened-in porch. It was the perfect spot to curl up with a good book.
“You live here?” I asked in surprise.
“Yup.”
I glanced at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it seems…out of character.”
“And you think you know my character?”
“I think I have a pretty good grasp on it, yeah.”
He gave a slight smile. “I like space. Big guy like me can’t do an apartment. This house was falling apart when I bought it a few years ago. I wanted to fix something with my own two hands. Something that wasn’t a bike or a car.” He cut the engine. “I can sit on the porch, watch the sunset, listen to the cicadas.”
“I like that you restored it instead of tearing it down.”
Colt stared at me for a moment and then said, “Nowadays when things break people don’t fix them, they just throw them out.”
I nodded. “Disposable.”
“Yeah.” He looked at the house. “Didn’t want it to become just another pile of wood and nails. I wanted it to have a life again, you know? I needed it to have life.”
It was the most Colt had ever said in one go. I wasn’t sure what to say. It felt like he was talking about one thing but meant something else entirely.
He had given me something honest, and for some reason, I felt compelled to do the same. “My home hasn’t felt like a home in a while. Not since my grandmother died. No place like home as they say, but what really makes a home? People, I think.”
He looked at me for a long moment and slowly removed his sunglasses. He continued to stare at me. His jaw was clenched and I wanted to know why. What was he holding back? Colt didn’t seem like the type to hold anything back.
“Come on, let me show you the place,” he said.
I was glad he brushed past the moment between us.
The living room was large and open, decorated in taupe and shades of brown. The kitchen was modern with white cabinetry and an island. We headed upstairs, and he led me down the hallway.
He opened a door. “Guest room.”
“It’s nice,” I said as I stepped through the doorway.
Colt leaned against the doorjamb. “Bed’s pretty comfortable. Got a new mattress for it a few months ago.”
“Yeah?” I turned to him. “Great.”
His gaze traveled down my body, his eyes warm and inviting.
“Hey, eyes up here,” I stated, snapping at him and then pointing to my face. “Let’s get something straight.”
“What’s that?” Humor radiated off of him and it was nearly my undoing. Surly Colt made me want to keep my distance. Happy, smiley Colt made me want something else entirely.
“I’m leaving town—”
“How do you expect to get out of town without your truck? And don’t forget that the doc told you not to drive.”
“Zip will get my truck when the coast is clear. And the doctor advised me not to drive. He didn’t forbid it.”
“Is it a stick?”
“What does that matter?”
“Color me curious.”
“Yeah, it’s a stick.”
“That’s hot, by the way. The idea of you driving a stick.”
“Stop flirting with me,” I snapped.
“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“If I said yes would you stop?”
“Probably not.” He grinned. “What are you going to do about money?”
“I have money. I just don’t have access to it at the moment because I left my bank card in my wallet which is still in my house.”
“So you don’t have money. Okay, what about clothes?”
“Stop asking me questions!” I groaned. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
He barked out a laugh and pushed away from the doorframe to come toward me.
Damn, he was tall. And huge.
“What are you doing? Stop right there.” My hand shot out to halt him, but he kept coming and eventually my fingers hit his expansive, muscled pectoral.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked huskily. He covered my hand on his chest with his, effectively ending the futile struggle.
I swallowed. “No, I’m not afraid of you.”
“I think you’re a liar.” He shifted his stance, bringing himself into my space. He was so close that his leather cut nearly grazed my pajama tank. I wanted to draw him closer. I wanted to touch him, stroke the skin of his neck to see what it felt like against my fingertips.
“If you’re not afraid of me,” Colt continued, “then look at me.”
After a moment, I forced myself to gaze up into his face. His eyes were dark with desire.
“I can’t figure you out,” I admitted. “One minute you’re cold, the next you’re laughing at me.”
“I can’t seem to help it,” he said with a wry grin. “You make me smile. What can I say?”
I dropped my eyes from his to stare at his chest when I said, “I don’t like having to rely on anyone.”
“It doesn’t mean you’re weak if you need help.”
“Who said anything about being weak?”
“You don’t have to say it; I’ve been watching you. You can’t stand needing help.”
“Most things I can handle on my own,” I admitted. “This thing with the Iron Horsemen? I’m way out of my element.”
“I rely on my brothers, my club. They’re my family. Does that make me weak?”
Colt was anything but weak. He was strong, assured; the man swaggered when he walked. But for him it wasn’t a struggle, it came naturally.
“You want me,” he stated, changing the conversation entirely and calling me out directly.
I shook my head in negation.
“I want you. I’ve been thinking about you since I kissed you at Dive Bar,” he said huskily, his hands grasping the back of my head as he bent down to kiss me. His lips met mine in a show of sexuality. He plundered my mouth with his tongue as he held me to him. My hand touching his shirt curled into his body to feel his strength. It was a kiss of ownership, and I felt it everywhere. I was buzzing from the electric charge between us.
Colt pulled back but kept his hold on me, his eyes lit with hunger and promise. His hand came up to tease the strap of my tank top.
I swallowed, needing space, needing to get my bearings. “I won’t have sex with you as a thank you for letting me stay here. You’re not expecting that, right? Because—”
“Woman, you’ve got all kinds of issues.”
“That came out wrong.”
Colt released me. “How was it supposed to come out?”
I stepped away from him and shrugged. “I dunno. I didn’t mean to insult you but…I have nothing, Colt. And you have everything I need right now.” I looked away, hating my vulnerability. “I won’t be a pity fuck.”
“What makes you think you’d be a pity fuck?”
My gaze snapped back to his. “Look at me.”
“I am.” His brown eyes stayed on mine.
“You brought me here under duress.”
“You think anyone can make me do something I don’t want to do?” He shook his head. “You needed a place, I got a place.”
“I could’ve stayed with Zip,” I pointed out.
“Like hell you could have,” he snapped.
“Why couldn’t I have stayed with him? He’s your brother, right? You clearly trust him.”
“Not when it comes to you.”
“You think he would’ve made a move?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand.” I cocked my head to the side. “If you weren’t worried about his actions, were you worried about mine? Did you think that if I stayed with him, I’d fall for his charms and throw myself at him?”
“This is why I don’t talk to women,” he grumbled. “They’re nothing but trouble.”
“We’re nothing but trouble?” My eyes widened. “You’ve got three different personalities and I never know which one I’m talking to.”
He sighed. “Fuck, I’m no good at this.”
“Good at what? Conversation? Yeah, I realize that.” I turned away from him, but his hands were still on my shoulders and he forced me to face him.
“Look, I don’t connect with people easily,” Colt stated.
“Okay.” I stared up at him with a quizzical gaze.
His thumb stroked along my neck, making me shiver.
“You don’t owe me anything. This isn’t payment.”
“Why are you helping me, Colt?”
“I may be an asshole,” he smiled slowly, “but I don’t turn my back on people who need help.”
He pressed a quick kiss to my lips and then left the room, leaving me to stare after him in dumb amazement.