Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3) (8 page)

When she nodded, Matt’s face cracked into a huge smile. “Great. Let me grab my jacket, check the back door, and we can be on our way.”

*     *     *

The savory smell
of Italian dishes enticed Addie and Matt as they entered Little Peppina’s Restaurant. Garlic, basil, olive oil, and the pungent scent of Parmesan cheese drifted in the air and welcomed diners. The white stucco restaurant with the red-tiled roof had been family owned since 1933. Wrought-iron curlicues decorated the windows and the front door, and inside, the walls were decked with hand-painted murals of Naples. Booths along the walls, tables with white and red checkered tablecloths, and rustic Chianti bottle candleholders filled the room. Plastic red and green grapes on silk-leaved vines and colorful Italian pottery decorated the built-in shelves along the back wall. On the overhead speakers, Sicilian and Napolitano folk music played.

“It smells wonderful in here,” Addie said as she sat down.

“This is my favorite Italian restaurant. Have you been here before?”

“No. I love Italian food, so it’s good to find a new place to order takeout.”

After placing their order, Matt asked her questions about her life prior to coming to Pinewood Springs. Addie answered in generalities, always steering the conversation and questions back to him. How could she ever tell him the truth about herself? If he knew, she was sure he would run out of there before she could even begin to explain.

Matt had a wonderful sense of humor, and Addie found herself laughing more in the short time they were in the restaurant than she had in a long time. Surprisingly, she was actually enjoying herself.

Halfway through dinner, a small voice cried out, “Ms. O’Leary.”

Twisting her body sideways, she looked behind her and saw Jack waving at her as he marched toward her, his stone-faced father behind him.

“Whatcha doing here? We just finished eating. We had pizza. What’re you having?” Jack peered at Addie’s plate.

“I’m having baked ravioli. Was your pizza good?” Addie asked while avoiding Chas’s stare.

“It was so good, huh, Dad?” Jack tilted his head up and looked at Chas.

With his teeth biting down on his lower lip, Chas nodded, his stare boring into Addie.

“And we had spumtoni, too, Ms. O’Leary.” Jack placed his hand over his mouth to contain his laughter.

“
Spumoni
,” Addie corrected him. “I bet it was delicious.”

“It was.” Jack covered his mouth again as his body shook. “I don’t know why I keep laughing. I’m just happy. Tonight is the bestest.”

Addie, ready to correct his word usage, stopped when she saw the smile Jack’s comment brought to Chas’s stone-face. Her heart melted.

Flicking his look to Addie, his dark eyes pulled her in, and she felt a connection to him like she never had with any man. From the glimmer of surprise which flashed briefly across his face, she knew he felt the link, as well. Nodding at her in acknowledgement of what had just passed between them, Chas placed his hands on Jack’s shoulder.

“Come on, little buddy. Let Ms. O’Leary finish her dinner.”

“Who’s that?” Jack asked, pointing his finger at Matt.

Wincing, she said, “This is Matt.” She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten he was there. Whenever Chas came near her, she turned into an insipid mess. “This is Jack and Chas—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Chas pulled Jack toward him, scanned her face, and said, “Say goodbye to your teacher, buddy.”

“Bye.” Jack’s voice trailed off as Chas tugged him toward the exit.

Turning around, Addie met Chas’s dark, brooding look. Holding her stare for a heartbeat, he walked out the front door with Jack in tow.

“That was intense,” Matt said with a slight laugh.

“What?”

“That guy, whom I presume is the boy’s father. Does he have a thing for you?”

Making light of it, Addie replied, “Oh, no. He’s the Rochester type, you know, brooding with a dark storm swirling within. Jack is in my after-school reading circle at the library. He’s a very nice and bright boy.”

“He’s a friendly kid. I can’t say that about his dad, though. Man, I wouldn’t want to meet him on a dark street. He’s definitely intimidating.” Matt laughed then changed the subject to the book club he conducted at the bookstore.

As Matt prattled on, Addie strained her ears to hear Chas’s Harley roar to life. The vibration of his cams shook the restaurant windows, and she instinctively knew he was breaking the sound barrier for her benefit.
Sorta juvenile, but it worked, Chas. I wish I were on the back of your bike with my arms snug around your hard waist.
Matt’s voice pricked her brain like a pesky gnat flying around her face. Tuning him out, she focused her attention on Chas until she could no longer hear the rumble of his bike.

After they finished eating, Matt took Addie to her car.

“I had a nice time. Thanks for coming out to dinner with me,” Matt said.

“Thank
you.
It was nice to go out for a change. The food was delicious and the company even better.” Smiling, she dug out her car keys from her purse. Addie did have a good time, until Chas had come into the picture.

“Would you like to go to a movie sometime?” Matt asked.

“If I’m able to go, that would be nice. As I told you, I’m extremely busy with the after-school programs and the other duties I have in running the library.”

“I understand. I’ll give you a call sometime, and if you can’t make it, then I’ll try another time. No pressure, okay?”

“Okay, and thanks again.”

Opening her car door, she slid into the driver’s seat, started the ignition, and drove away. In her rearview mirror, she watched Matt climb into his Honda Accord. If he were dressed in leather and denim, rode a Harley, and had intense, smoldering black eyes, she’d go to the movies with him in a heartbeat. Who was she kidding? She’d go
anywhere
with him.

How could she think about dating
any
man? She and Ian were still legally married. Was this destined to be her life, dodging a psychotic assassin, the police, and never being able to fall in love and marry again?

Sighing deeply, she couldn’t wait to sit on her couch with an afghan wrapped around her and start her new book. In books, when the characters’ world became too complicated, she could close the book to stop the drama. Her life would be much easier if only she could do that.

S
itting in the
crowded, hot room, the oscillating fan blowing blasts of sweat-scented warm air in his face, Chas mulled over what he saw the previous night at Little Peppina’s. When he’d first heard Jack call her name, a surge of adrenaline had spiked through his system, but when he’d seen the puny fuckwad seated across from her, he wanted to push the guy’s face into his spaghetti. For some reason, Chas didn’t think he’d see Ms. O’Leary on a date. At least, it appeared like she was on a date, but from the way they were talking and she was looking at Chas, he didn’t think they’d been going out too long. It didn’t really matter, though, since he had every intention of breaking up whatever she and fuckwad had.

From the way the nerdy guy looked at her whenever she spoke, Chas could tell he was into her. He didn’t blame the guy for one second; his son’s teacher was one hot piece of ass. He’d love to peel away all the clothing she put on to hide herself, and he suspected it was a sexy, luscious body—one he could sink his teeth and hands into. If he’d had teachers like her in school, he would’ve been a straight-A student.

Shifting in his chair, he thought about her long and flowing hair, which was the most beautiful shade of red. The highlights looked like gold thread spun through it. What he’d give to nuzzle his face in her mane. The previous day, when he caught her as she was falling, her thick locks had brushed against his hands and they were as soft as feathers. And she smelled amazing, like freshly baked sugar cookies. Holding her close to him when he’d intercepted her fall, he’d experienced an electrifying, warm sensation which went from his head straight down to his dick. It was the best fucking thing in the world, and it made him hornier than hell.

Ever since he’d met Addie, she was all he could think of. Fucking her would be over the top, but he could tell she was skittish about it. Maybe it
was
the “father of the student” thing she kept jabbering about, but he thought it could be something more. Maybe it was this guy he saw her with, but he doubted it. No, there was something else going on with her he couldn’t quite figure out. There was apprehension and fright behind her pretty green eyes, and Chas was positive it wasn’t because of him. He’d have to dig around to find out what or who caused this hottie such trouble, and when he did, he’d take care of the problem—stat.

The gavel banged on the table and startled Chas out of his reveries.

“Quiet, now. Quiet!” Banger yelled. “Church has started, and we gotta talk about the shit that’s been buzzing on the grapevine about Dustin’s charter in Kilson.”

“We’re still dealin’ with their shit?” Razor said. “Fuck, we voted if they screwed up again, their asses were out, so what the fuck’s there to talk about?”

Angry voices yelled their agreement with Razor. Several brothers stood up, cursing and slamming fists against the walls and table. “Enough of their shit,” echoed around the hot, cramped room.

Banger hammered the gavel against the table again. “We gotta talk about it ’cause we don’t know if the rumblings we’re hearin’ are true or not.”

Hawk stood up, and his six-foot-three stature was imposing. As vice president, he tried to help Banger out when the brothers became too excited over certain issues. His deep voice boomed out, “Shut the fuck up. The prez is talking, and he’s right in what he’s saying. As you know, a while back, a group of us went to Kilson to straighten the charter out, and help them with their arms deal. We told Dustin the score. He was fuckin’ pissed, but he knew what shit would happen if he didn’t get his act cleaned up.” Hawk paused, took a pull on his bottle of Coors, and leaned back against the concrete wall. “The word is the fuckers cleaned up their act for about seven months or so, but now they’re back doin’ the same shit we warned them about. We gotta check it out before we throw out brothers. After all, we’re all Insurgents.”

“Them fuckers ain’t,” Razor countered. Red-faced from anger, the other brothers tried to calm him down.

A bone of major contention the mother club had with the Kilson charter was the flagrant and continued use of underage girls for stripping, whoring, and fucking. The brothers understood Razor’s anger and disgust. Several of them had teenage daughters, like Razor, so whenever they heard shit about brothers and citizens abusing teen girls, the blood would rush to their head, and they’d see red.

“I hear you, brother,” Banger stated. “Kiley’s eighteen and I’d still beat the shit outta any man who tried anything with her, but we gotta make sure what we’re hearin’ is true. If it is, we’ll take the colors away and sever all ties with the sonsofbitches.”

Razor sat down, mumbling, his words indiscernible.

As the room quieted for the third time, Banger said, “I’m sending another group to Kilson to check out the strip bar the charter owns. If there are underage strippers, you can fuckin’ bet the asshole badges’ palms are getting greased. Let’s see if they’re dealin’ in hard drugs at their clubhouse, and if they got minors working for them on the streets. Hawk and his group will check it out, and if the shit that’s circulating ’bout them is true, we’ll take back their colors, ’cause no one wearing Insurgents’ colors does shit to minors. Hawk has the authority to close them down and bash Dustin’s face. He can tell Dustin it comes from me.”

The whistles and claps were deafening as all brothers pledged their support to their president and to their club.

“We got the Saturday rally at Cooper’s Peak, then Hawk, Jax, Chas, Axe, Throttle, Rock, Razor, Bruiser, Jerry, Pug, and Ruben will head to Kilson the following Tuesday. Hawk’s in charge and he’ll report to me. Any questions?”

The members shook their heads.

“Church’s over. Let’s get some shots and brew,” Banger said with a laugh.

The members dispersed and went to the bar where the prospects had beer bottles on the counter and shots ready to go for the brothers. One of the prospects’ jobs was to know each member’s drinks. The prospects had to do anything the members asked them to do, and with thirty members and only three prospects on board, they were hopping at all hours of the day and night. It was demanding, exhausting, and many times, unpleasant, but it was a job every single one of the patched members did before they wore their colors.

Joining the members in the great room were the club whores, the mamas, and several hoodrats. Classic rock tunes blasted from speakers around the room.

As Jax, Jerry, and Chas leaned against the bar drinking and talking bikes, three hoodrats approached them. Shyla, blonde and busty, put her arm around Jax, while her friend Gina, a brunette, cozied up to Jerry, and Lisa stood near Chas.

“Hey, you’re cute,” Shyla said, as she traced Jax’s rough jawline with her purple-tipped finger.