Page 102 of Smokey's Distraction
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll be back with your drinks,” Jared mumbled before moving away.
They settled back into their chairs, hands clasped tightly together.
“Did you meet Willy in Denver?”
“No. After I left Brenda’s, I was back on the streets. Soon after, I got arrested for stealing a car. I didn’t even want the damn thing. I just wanted a place to stay that was covered and safe. Anyway, the judge was pretty cool. He put me on probation and ordered a ton of community service. My case got transferred here, and I ended up back home with my fucked-up parents.”
“That must’ve been terrible. Was your dad super pissed at you?”
“Yeah—pissed that I was back. The streets made me hard, so he didn’t try any shit with me. My PO sent me to Willy’s farm for my community service. Best move ever. Willy guided me and acted more like a dad than my old man ever did.”
“Here you go,” Whitney said as she set the drinks on the table. “Enjoy.” Giving Ashley a wink, she scampered away.
Smokey took a sip and continued. “Willy lost his son in a motorcycle crash. He was twenty-five, and it shredded the old man’s heart. He often told me I reminded him of his boy.” Pausing, his eyes took on a faraway look. “I became like a son to him. He taught me a ton of shit about motorcycles—how to ride them, fix them, and cherish them. And he never blamed the motorcycle for his son’s death, just the SOB who ran the red light. It was Willy who showed me how to build things, and by the end of my community service, I’d helped him build a garage. When I stood there, looking at what I’d helped build, I saw what I could do with my hands.”
Ashley brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. “Your hands aren’t just good with building,” she said in a soft voice.
A devilish smile spread across his lips.
“Where did the Insurgents fit in?”
“I met Banger, Itchy, Buffalo, and Rob at Willy’s, who were all longtime friends of his. Banger hung out the most at the farm. He and the other Insurgents used to look out for me, and invited me over to the club to play pool and darts. When shit got to be too much at home, I’d crash at Willy’s, or sometimes at Banger’s place.” He laughed. “That’s how I entered the world of Harleys and whiskey.”
She smiled at the look on his face. “So, did you join right away?”
“I was a hangaround until I turned eighteen, and then I started prospecting. I finally patched in at twenty. The MC saved my fuckin’ life. It gave me a purpose and the direction I needed. If it hadn’t been for the Insurgents, I don’t know where I’d be. They’re my brothers—my family. I’d give my life for any one of them, and they’d do the same for me.”
“It’s wonderful you all have such a close bond.”
“It is. There’s a closeness among bikers you don’t see, not even in most families. Citizens don’t get the lifestyle at all. Our world is a culture and way of life that’s both noble, but also primal in nature. We stick our fingers up at the world and don’t give a fuck or care about what others think.”
“I picked that up about you. It’s also one of the things I like and admire about you. You don’t try to kiss ass or play it safe.”
“And I like your ‘fuck you’ sass. Like I said, we’re survivors, and that makes us tough as hell.”
The tip of her tongue flicked out across her top lip as she held his gaze. “I have a confession to make—I like your gruff, no-bullshit toughness, softened by a sexy as hell smile.”
Smokey’s dark look was so intense, it took her breath away. Suddenly, he turned her chair around and yanked her against him. Burying a hand in her hair, he pulled hard, jerking her head back, then smashed his mouth against hers. The force of the kiss stunned her. Wrapping her arms around him, she held him close, the kiss stealing all reason from her. It consumed her, shutting off the volume of Whitney’s words and pushing the warning flags to the farthest corners of her mind. At that moment, she didn’t want caution, didn’t want to analyze a thing, and she sure as hell didn’t want to stop kissing him.
He broke away, running his tongue down the side of her neck.
“We should get out of here,” she whispered.
Putting his hands on either side of her face, he pressed his lips to her forehead, nose, and cheeks. “You do something to me, darlin’,” he rasped, affection warming his eyes.
As his words embraced her, Ashley’s cheeks flushed, sending shivers throughout her body.
Smokey shoved his chair back and stood up, then helped her to her feet. Throwing a few bills onto the table, he grabbed her hand and led her out into the sunlight.
17
Smokey woketo the low ring of his phone. Groggy from sleep, he squinted at the lit screen before placing the cell to his ear.
“What’s up?” he croaked, pushing up to lean against the headboard.
“Banger wants you to go with us to Cottonwood this afternoon to kick some Rising Order ass,” Klutch said.
