Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) (17 page)

“I agree.” Tena took another bite of the cake, moaning. “I’m not the best baker, but I can make a mean casserole.”

“Working with all women, I think I’d like that.” Chad winked as he set his now empty plate on the tray. “I can always bring a bag of chips.”

“I thought all gay guys were good cooks.” Tena laid down her own plate. “You can’t just bring chips. How about we get together and I teach you some tricks.”

“I’m all for it, sweetheart. But what’s the saying? You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

Diesel trotted up the stairs, stopped in front of Kimber’s plate and barked. She laughed, knowing Diesel wanted her last bite. Speaking of teaching an old dog new tricks. But instead of feeding the sugary bite to him, she patted his head, then ate the last bite herself. “Sorry, Diesel. Anton wouldn’t be happy with me if I started to spoil you after all the dog food he purchased for you.”

“Anton? You’re neighbor?” Tena asked.

“Yes. Sorry, I guess I never mentioned his name.”

“He bought your dog food?”

“And the dog.” Kimber scratched his chin. “This far out he thought I needed a little protection.”

One of Chad’s brows arched. “And you’re not dating?”

“Nope.”

“Whatever, girlfriend. A man does not worry about your safety if you don’t mean a thing to him.”

Kimber thought about that and certainly hoped Chad was correct. The idea of her meaning more to Anton than what they did in the sack brought a smile to her face, leaving her a bit giddy. She hoped he called soon, if for nothing else than to find out how Diesel and she were getting along. Truth of it, she was already falling in love with the big lug … the dog.
Of course, the dog
. She didn’t know Anton well enough to have those type of feelings for him. Did she? Her mind refused to believe she might be falling for him, but her heart seemed to trip over itself every time she thought of him.

Kimber quickly closed the door on her current line of thinking. Feeling more for Anton, other than an occasional slip between the sheets, would bring her nothing but heartache. Loving him was not an option.

“We’re good friends.” She wondered at her declaration, not sure exactly what they were. “Who have slept together a couple of times. Just something to pass the time since neither of us were dating. I was quite surprised when he showed up with the dog. He was being neighborly—”

The sound of approaching motorcycles cut her off and kicked up the beat of her heart. She told herself it was just wishful thinking. Since it was more than one bike, she thought maybe it was a couple of the Sons of Sangue checking up on their rival’s farmhouse. She supposed it wouldn’t be out of the question for them to want to keep tabs on him.

The black motorcycle out front, sporting tall handlebars, was pretty hard to miss, though. Kimber stood and walked toward the steps as Diesel rushed down them and headed for the road. Both bikes slowed as they came near, but instead of stopping, they continued on their way. Anton barely acknowledged her with slightest tip of his chin. Thankfully, she had caught the small gesture or she might have wondered if he had paid her any mind at all.

“I’d rather my MC brothers didn’t know about you.”

Devils’ patches were centered on the back of their black leather vests. The idea Anton would come to Sons of Sangue territory with another Devil spelled trouble, and Kimber didn’t like it. If she got a chance to catch Anton alone, she meant to talk to him about it. He really shouldn’t be bringing his MC brothers across state lines. The last thing she wanted to see happen was a brawl over territories with Anton caught in the middle. It was one thing for him to be in Oregon. He owned a farmhouse and was likely expected to check on it from time to time. Bringing another Devil here was borrowing trouble.

“Is that your man?” Chad asked, his voice near her ear.

Kimber turned her head and found him leaning over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at the men and their motorcycles.

“Girl, you are flirting with danger. But damn, I can’t say I blame you. Did you get a glimpse of the guy with the tattoo crosses on his arms? That man is an absolute beast.” Chad whistled. “Please tell me you can score me an introduction and that beautiful specimen is not yours.”

Both bikes pulled into Anton’s driveway and disappeared behind the house. “No, the other one is my neighbor. Getting an introduction to the second man probably isn’t such a good idea, Chad.”

“Why? You don’t seem to mind Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous.”

“He’s my neighbor.” Kimber turned and pushed Chad back toward the wicker chairs. “Whom I’ve slept with. Nothing more. Don’t read more into it.”

“If you say so.” Chad looked at his watch, then grabbed his keys from the table. “Too bad, I’m due at the library in a half hour anyway.”

Tena bounced to her feet. “I guess that means time for me to go as well. We’re sharing the afternoon shift. Enjoy the rest of your day off, Kimber. If you happen to meet up with your neighbor again, we want details.”

Kimber chuckled as she watched them head for their cars, then back out of the driveway. Diesel stepped up to the porch and sat by Kimber’s feet. Her gaze traveled back to Anton’s farmhouse. He appeared briefly, before he walked around the side of his house and let himself into the side door. The other man followed. Chad had been correct about one thing. That man was a beast, causing a sliver of apprehension to travel her spine.

Patting her thigh, she said, “Come on, Diesel. Dinner time.”

Without a second glance, Kimber entered her house, Diesel trotting happily beside her and unaware of the possible danger entering their peaceful neck of the woods.

Bobby Bourassa tossed his black duffle bag onto the wood floor with a thud, just inside the back door of Anton’s farmhouse, and gave a cursory glance about the room. He ran a hand through his overlong bangs, pushing the nearly black hair off his forehead and out of his cerulean blue eyes. They were more vivid than Anton’s own blue irises. Bobby wore his hair shaved on each side, but leaving the top lengthy, his bangs long enough to reach his bearded chin. The man could somehow pull off the style, only adding to his beastly look. He was built like a brick shit house. Anton had watched Bobby take on three men at once, not receiving a single punch. He’d gladly have Bobby watching his back in a fight any day of the week.

Anton walked over to the side lamp by the sectional sofa and turned the switch, lending the dim interior a little light. “This is it. My home away from home. Make yourself comfortable.”

Anton headed into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a couple of Buds. He twisted off the caps and tossed them into the trash can, positioned at the end of the counter before heading back into the living room. Bobby had already made himself at home. His black booted feet kicked up on the center coffee table. Pointing the remote at the television, he changed the channel, stopping on a preseason scrimmage of the Oregon Ducks.

Handing him a beer, Anton sat on the opposite side of the sofa. “You a football fan?”

Bobby shrugged. “Somewhat. I wouldn’t go out of the way, but if one’s on I’ll watch it. You?”

“I grew up here, so I like to watch OU games. I guess you could say I’m a Ducks fan.”

“Your parents still live around here?”

Anton shook his head. “Died years ago.”

“Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. It’s life.” Anton took a swig of his beer. “I suppose that’s why I keep the farmhouse, though. It’s my last tie to them. You?”

“My parents don’t give a fuck about me. Kicked me out when I was fourteen.” Bobby tipped back his bottle. “I don’t know if they’re still alive, nor do I care. I wouldn’t walk across the street to visit them.”

“That’s tough, dude.”

“I don’t suppose I was easy to live with. I was a punk kid from early on. Once they kicked me out, I bounced around a lot. My friends took me in occasionally, other times I lived on the street. Shortly after I turned twenty-one, I found God. I got ordained online and followed my calling. Once I hit my early thirties, I began losing faith in humanity. I don’t have to tell you there are a lot of hypocrites out there. I got tired of the moneymakers calling the shots, acting like they owned the church.”

The crowd roared on the television, catching their attention briefly as the Ducks scored. “I met Tank around then.” Bobby continued, “He was about the most honest man I knew. Didn’t pull any punches. He said it like it was, even if at the time it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. After getting to know him over a couple of years, he asked me to join his MC. I left the church and the hypocrites behind. Haven’t looked back.”

“You still believe in God, Preacher?”

Bobby rubbed his long beard. Damn thing was impressive. Full and long. “I’ve seen a lot of ugly in my life. It’s mankind I’ve lost faith in. Not God.”

Anton wasn’t sure he believed in the afterlife. His parents had been believers. He hoped if there was a heaven, they had found it. Men like Tank, he was pretty sure wouldn’t be meeting up with them. His parents were good people. No matter how honest Bobby thought the Devils’ president to be, some sins you couldn’t atone for.

“That scrawny little barkeep,” Bobby shifted subjects, “you trust him?”

“Draven?” Anton picked at the label on his bottle. “Fucker’s a weasel. He’s all about making money. So yeah, I trust he’ll do what’s needed to get the job done. The faster he turns over the smack, the more money that’s in it for him. He’ll work hard to move it. But like him? No. I don’t think that has any relevance on his trustworthiness, though. Just my personal preferences.”

“You think he still might be in bed with the Sons?”

“I think the Sons cost him a lot of money. It’s safe to say any relationship they may have had was severed along with his drug funds.”

Bobby tipped back his beer, finishing it. “You’re a standup guy, Rogue. You say Draven’s on the up-and-up, then I’ll take your word for it. I won’t ask again. I could care less about your personal feelings. They don’t count in business decisions. I’m not a fan of all the Devils either. But like them or not, they’ve become my brothers.”

“That’s where we agree, Preacher.” Anton took the two empty bottles and headed for the kitchen, only to return with two fresh beers. “Just because I became a Devil doesn’t mean I have to like all of the son of a bitches.”

Bobby took the bottle and settled against the sofa to watch the game. Anton hoped, when the dust finally settled, he could save Bobby from the feds. He wouldn’t mind bringing him on as a Son. The man seemed like he could use a good break in life.

Anton’s gaze caught a glimpse of the house down the road through the adjacent window, making his pulse kick up a notch. Anton hoped she had noticed his slight acknowledgement as they rode past, small that it had been. He couldn’t afford taking a chance of Bobby knowing about her. Though he believed the man on the up-and-up, he couldn’t chance Bobby mentioning her to Tank.

She’d looked damn fine standing on her porch, dressed in black leggings and a long white top. He could see the hint of a black bra beneath her blouse, turning his blood hot. Diesel had definitely recognized him as he had bounded down the porch steps and headed toward the country lane. Anton was only too glad he had returned to Kimber’s side and not tried to follow them to the farmhouse, saving Anton from explaining why the neighbor’s dog had a soft spot for him.

The tall blond man on the porch hadn’t escaped his notice either. Anton planned on asking her who the hell was keeping her company the past couple of days. Hell, her mattress had hardly cooled from them heating up the sheets a few nights ago. She best not be giving the young man false hopes because Anton had no plans of sharing. If the blond had any ideas at all of getting into her pants, Anton would make sure he knew Kimber’s nights were already taken.

“What kind of action can we expect to find way out here in the middle of fucking nowhere?” Bobby asked, taking Anton’s mind off his desire to head back down the road. “Not that I don’t like your company, Rogue, but I don’t think I can hang out here 24/7. There has to be somewhere we can go that ain’t the Sons’ territory.”

“We could check out Murphy’s Tavern. It’s a country bar. It’s close enough to the Rave, where we can keep a better eye on Draven. We’ll leave the bikes and cuts here, take my Ford truck. The law hangs at Murphy’s, so the Sons of Sangue steer clear of the joint.”

Bobby looked at his nearly empty bottle and shook the small amount left. “How about we head over there once the sun sets and check out the action. You game?”

“I’m in. Don’t forget we need to keep a low profile, Preacher. We don’t need to attract the attention of the locals who hang there either.”

“We’re here to keep an eye on Draven and the Rave, make sure he’s moving the heroin. He isn’t doing his job, then Tank will have yours and my asses.” Bobby ran a hand through his bangs again. “I’m not putting my ass on the line for that little drug dealer.”

Anton, on the other hand, would. “Let me go shower and catch a few hours of sleep and I’ll be ready to party. You’re welcome to use the shower up the stairs and the bedroom to the right of it. We can head for Murphy’s around ten.”

“Sounds good, man. The only thing that would make my night better is to find some sweet young thing who would be into my ugly mug.”