Aiden: The Lost Breed MC #8 Read online

  Of course, there were still some things I needed to fix. At the top of the list? Lose the weight I’d put on after losing my mom and dad. I knew this wasn’t the body Vince desired, and it wasn’t the one that made me smile in the morning when I saw it in all its glory before getting in the shower. I still had a line up the middle of my stomach, but it didn’t go all the way down to my navel like it used to. Excess fatty tissue adorned my hips and thighs, and things jiggled now that never used to. My face was rounder and my arms thicker and—

  Shaking my head, I put the lid back on the pasta sauce.

  I was taking steps to get leaner. I’d only eat half a serving of spaghetti tonight. And tomorrow would be a carb free day. That’s what it was all about—small and manageable steps to get to where I wanted to be, and where Vince would desire me like he used to. With everything he’d done for me, I owed him this.

  The diamond bracelet on my left wrist caught the light above the stove as I stirred the pasta sauce one last time before filling a pot with water to cook the noodles. Vince would be home within the next fifteen minutes or so and he was sure to be hungry.

  Pulling the salad out of the fridge that I’d already chopped, I set it on the island in the kitchen. The water started to boil within minutes and I tossed the noodles in, gave them a quick stir, and opened a bottle of red wine. I set it back against the shimmery white tile backsplash to breathe alongside two crystal wine glasses.

  I heard the front door open and the sound as Vince dropped his keys in the bowl by the door. He took his shoes off. Hung his jacket in the entranceway closet. Started walking down the hall to the back of the house where all the living space was.

  “Hi baby,” I called, as I poured the noodles and boiling water into my strainer. Steam rose into the air and I waved it away from my face, not wanting it to mess up my makeup. I’d taken my time on my face this morning. My contouring was just right, showing off the angles I wished my face still had.

  Vince came into the kitchen and breathed in. “Hey. Smells good in here, Cher.”

  “We’re having your favorite,” I smiled.

  He came over to where I stood over the sink, put his hands on my hips, and kept them there as I shuffled down the counter back to the stove, giggling when he pressed his lips to the side of my neck. “I’m starving.”

  “I knew you would be. It’s just how you like it. Not too spicy. Plenty of Italian seasoning. No onions.”

  “You’re the best, babe,” he said, giving my cheek a quick peck before reaching for the open bottle of wine and pouring us each a glass.

  “How was your day?” I asked, as I spooned noodles onto our crystal plates. I paused, studying the amount I put on my plate—half the amount I’d given Vince. Then I took about a quarter of it away and put it back in the pot with the other noodles. “I was thinking about you all day. It took everything I had not to call you at lunch and check in, but I knew you wouldn’t want to be the new guy with the wife who called to check up on him.”

  Vince chuckled and watched as I scooped sauce over the pasta. I put a small amount on mine. There was a lot of sugar and salt in that sauce. Then he patted my ass. “I’m proud of you, babe. You’re really committed to this thing.”

  I pursed my lips together in a sweet smile. “I know I’m not at my best and I want to be, for you.”

  Vince picked up our plates and carried them over to the counter where the salad was. I served that as well and we sat down to enjoy our meals and wine. Vince told me all about his day and his new colleagues. Everything sounded very positive. He got along well with his new boss and was invited out for drinks in the late afternoon with a few of the guys—the ‘in’ crowd as he called them. The top dogs. The guys everyone wanted to be friends with and the kind of men who were good to have in your pocket if you needed a favor.

  “It sounds like it couldn’t have gone any better,” I said, hope spreading through my chest. Everything was falling into place for us. “It feels so good here, Vinny. I’m happy.”

  “Sounds like a toast to me,” he said, lifting his glass of wine.

  We tapped our glasses together and drank.

  Vince cleared his plate and I left a few bites of salad and pasta on mine, despite wanting to devour it all more than anything. I told myself I wasn’t hungry, but just impulsive, and pushed the rest of the food into the compost before cleaning up the dishes and packing the leftovers up to tuck in the freezer.

  Vince topped up our wine glasses and waited for me in the living room where he put a football game on.

  I padded past him after loading and starting the dishwasher. “I’m just going to get changed. I’ll be right out.”

  “Alright,” he said, his gaze fixed on the TV.

  I went upstairs into our bedroom. The soothing powder blue walls, plush white carpets, and pristine sheets made me feel like I was walking into a spa. It also smelled like eucalyptus and cucumber in here—I’d purchased a room spray to really make this space feel like a sanctuary.

  I went into the walk in closet and opened my loungewear drawer. I pulled out my silk set; a pair of shimmery pale pink shorts and a lace trimmed matching tank. It was perfect for the summer and it made me feel cute when I wore it in spite of the extra weight.

  Once I had it on I checked my reflection. Thick but still cute. At least, that’s the thought I carried with me when I went back downstairs and joined Vince on the sofa. I got comfy in my corner and lifted my legs up to drape them over his thighs.

  He put his hands on my ankles.

  I’d shaved this afternoon. I wanted him to run his hand up my shin, over my knee, and up my thigh—and then maybe a little higher. We’d only had sex twice since moving here three weeks ago. I wanted him to want me again.

  I’d only been sitting beside him for about fifteen minutes when the game ended. He patted my ankle with one hand and then lifted my legs off his. “I have to run out, babe.”

  I glanced at the clock on one of the bookshelves flanking the fireplace. “It’s nine-thirty.”

  “I know what time it is.”

  I licked my lips. Should I ask him where he was going? Would he be upset? Was I being paranoid?

  I found my voice when he was halfway down the hall to the front door. “Where are you going?”

  Vince turned as I stood up from the sofa and followed him. He opened the hallway closet and grabbed his jacket. He still had his suit on from work. “We said we were going to give this another shot, Cher.”

  “I know. And we are.”

  “Then you have to trust me.”

  “I do trust you.”

  He frowned and gave me an ‘are you sure’ sort of look. “You don’t have to worry, babe. I won’t be gone long. Take a bath and pamper yourself or something.” He leaned in, put a hand on my hip, and gave me a kiss that wasn’t nearly as long as I wanted. “Dinner was delicious.”

  Chapter 3

  Aiden

  The weather on Tuesday was still hot, but not nearly as muggy as the weekend had been. So when I discovered that I didn’t have enough coffee to brew a cup, I hopped on my bike and struck out for a nearby coffee shop to satisfy my coffee craving.

  I was a useless human being without my caffeine fix.

  The closest coffee shop was a hole in the wall place with no legible sign anywhere in sight, and I only learned it was called ‘Groundz’ because it said so on their paper cups. They sold a mean cup of dark, strong, piping hot coffee, and in all the times I’d been there, I’d yet to be disappointed.

  There also happened to be some pretty cute baristas on the other side of the counter.

  That Tuesday morning I parked my bike on the curb on the opposite side of the street from Groundz. The line was out the door, which made sense for a morning in the middle of summer, and people were hurrying across the crosswalk at the corner and making their way to the back of the ever growing line.

  I groaned inwardly as I hung my helmet on my handlebars. With the Lost Breed crest stamped on t
he gas tank of my bike, no fool would have the nerve to swipe it while I was gone. I kept my leather jacket on in spite of the heat and glanced down the road, still on my bike.

  Then I saw her.

  She was driving a brand new pearl white Mercedes. The rims were spectacularly clean, the top was down, and her music was blaring as she came to a stop at the red light while the pedestrians crossed the crosswalk. I didn’t recognize the song blaring from the speakers, but it was loud and wild, most definitely rock. She drummed her fingers to the beat on the steering wheel, and her lips—full and glorious—moved as she sang.

  I wished I could hear her over the crash of the drums and the strum of the guitar as I folded my arms over my chest and leaned back to watch. I chuckled as she really got into the music, swaying her head like she was at a concert and three beers into the evening.

  The girl was young. Probably a few years younger than my thirty years. Her hair was so blonde it almost seemed white in the sun. Her sunglasses were huge, covering most of her face, but those lips of hers were enough to capture my attention.

  She had incredible tits, too.

  Her top, a loose white button up, was undone at the top due to said tits being too big.

  I pushed myself off my bike and was about to jog across the street to ask what her name was and lay some charm on her when the squeal of tires on asphalt split the air.

  A big navy blue F150 came sliding down the road, having braked too late, and rear ended the white Mercedes.

  The girl let out a surprised yelp as she was pushed forward two feet. She hammered on her brakes right away and narrowly missed bumping the SUV in front of her. Even from where I stood across the road I could see how hard she gripped the steering wheel.

  The truck backed up, pulled out into the oncoming lane of traffic, and sped around her to blow through the red light.

  “What the fuck!” The blonde cried out, slamming her hand on the middle of the steering wheel. Her horn let out a sharp honk.

  I jogged across the road and came up to her driver’s side door. “Hey, are you okay?”

  She looked up at me. Lord, she was stunning. Up close like this I could see the freckles across her nose and on her chest. She kept her sunglasses on as she stared up at me.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I-I don’t think so.”

  I pointed to an open spot a few car lengths up the road. “When the light goes green why don’t you pull over right there? I got the guys plate number and can give you my information if you need a witness.”

  “Seriously?” She asked, sounding a little breathless.

  Fuck, she was sexy. Sexy in the kind of way that made a man clench his teeth. Her voice was sweeter than honey, and unless I was mistaken, I detected a southern accent on her tongue.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Seriously. I’ll meet you up there and we’ll take a look at the damage.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  I patted the window frame and walked behind the Mercedes before she pulled away to follow traffic. I took a quick glance down at her bumper as she pulled into the open spot at the curb. It didn’t look too bad.

  I hopped up onto the sidewalk and met her at her car as she got out and slammed her door closed. “I can’t believe my stupid luck,” she muttered. This part of the street was covered in shade as the sun was hidden behind the building the coffee shop was in. So she pushed her sunglasses up on her head before coming to the back of the car to join me in looking at the damage.

  Her eyes were like those of a cat—almond shaped and startlingly bright. They were a dazzling blue and enough to make me feel a little flustered. And I didn’t fluster easy.

  She crouched down in front of the bumper and ran her fingers over the damage. That’s when I noticed her hands were shaking. “Asshole. I can’t believe he just drove off!”

  “Welcome to the big city,” I said.

  She looked up at me. “You said you got his plate?”

  I nodded. “Do you have an app for notes in your phone? I can put it in for you.”

  “Um. Yes. I think so. Hang on, it’s in the car.”

  I tried to be a gentleman but it was impossible to look anywhere but at her ass as she walked away, opened her car door, and leaned across the front seat to grab her phone from the console. The jeans she had on hugged her curves, showing off her delicious shape. She was thick, with actual hips and thighs, and an ass you could hold on to.

  Just my type.

  She came back and handed me her phone with the note app open. I punched in the truck’s license, make, model, and color, just in case she forgot. I could tell she was still rattled as she ran her hands down her thighs.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. I’ve never been in an accident before. It just scared me, is all. I’m not hurt.”

  “I’m glad. It would be a shame to damage a body like that.”

  She blinked at me. “Excuse me?”

  I handed her phone back to her. “I put everything in there for you. Including my buddy’s number. He has an auto body shop not far from here and he can buff this damage out for you real quick. Cheap too.”

  She let me get away with the comment about her body and slid her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. Oh how I wished I could put my hand into one of those pockets. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Not a problem. Somebody has to help out the fresh blood, right?”

  “How can you tell I’m new to New York City?”

  I shrugged. “There are a couple of giveaways.”

  She narrowed her blue eyes at me and pursed her lips. “Like what?”

  I chuckled and scratched the back of my neck. “Well, the music for one. Those shoes. The sunglasses. Big hair. The accent.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts. Either she didn’t know how sexy that was, or she didn’t care. “I beg your pardon, but what is it about my shoes that makes you think I’m not from around here?” She pointed down at her strappy pink heels.

  I laughed and held up my hands innocently. “I’m just messing with you.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “I saw ‘State of Georgia’ on your license plate.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. I’m sorry. How humiliating.” She covered her face with both hands. I took note of the very real diamond bracelet on her left wrist and the ring on the middle finger of her right hand—just a band of diamonds. Interesting. No girl bought that sort of jewelry for herself. There were also diamonds winking in her earlobes.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I was the one being an ass.”

  She let out a nervous little laugh and uncrossed her arms. “Right. Well. Thanks again. I’d better get going. My boyfriend is going to be pissed when he finds out I damaged the brand new car.”

  Boyfriend. Fuck.

  She removed her sunglasses from her head and put them back on. Then she raked the fingers of both hands through her thick blonde hair. I liked the way it cascaded down her back like a silky curtain.

  She let out a defeated sigh before walking back to her door. She slid into the car and I walked up the sidewalk to stand on the passenger side. I leaned over and rested my forearms on the frame. “What’s your name?”

  She gave me a sweet smile. “Cheryl.”

  “Cheryl. It was a pleasure meeting you. Well, a pleasure for me. Maybe not for you given the circumstances.”

  She let out another little laugh that tickled my insides. Then she pushed her sunglasses back up on her head to look me in the eye. “I’d say it was a pleasure meeting you too, but, if I’m being perfectly honest, I’m not sure it was.”

  I laughed.

  Her smile turned into something cheeky and secretive as she put the sunglasses on one more time, checked her mirrors, and pulled out onto the road without looking back.

  I watched her drive off wishing I’d had just a few more minutes with her. That’s all I would have needed. I should have asked her to come inside and get a
coffee with me. I could have suggested it was a bad idea to drive right away since she seemed shaken.

  It would have been worth a try to get some time alone with a girl like that.

  Chapter 4

  Cheryl

  I’d had the day from Hell, and it all started last night, when I fell asleep in bed alone.

  Vince had been there when I woke up in the morning. He was sitting up in bed on his phone. As soon as I rolled over and muttered ‘Good morning,’ he’d locked the phone, put it aside, and lay back down beside me to give me some morning kisses.

  Then he got up and showered and told me he was grabbing coffee with some of his coworkers before work.

  Since moving into the new house I’d spent the majority of my days at home getting everything in order. There were still things to unpack like the guest room, dining room, and home office, but I would get to it in due time.

  After a light breakfast and a half hour cardio session in our in home gym I showered, got dressed, did my makeup, and headed out for a drive in the Mercedes to enjoy the sunshine and get a feel for what was nearby.

  And then, naturally, some asshole rear ended me and drove off like a coward, leaving me to be only sort of rescued by a tall, buzzed headed, dangerously cute biker with no manners, who, like any well to do biker with no manners, left his damn phone number in my note application on my phone along with the number of the auto body shop and the information on the navy blue truck.

  Assholes. Both of them. The biker and the driver.

  And my day was only bound to get worse. Vince would be home any minute and I was going to have to figure out a way to tell him about the damage on our two week old brand spanking new hundred and thirty thousand dollar car.

  All I wanted to do was stress eat the leftover spaghetti but I knew I’d only hate myself afterward.

  So I busied myself with making dinner. I took my time, put on some chill music, and poured a glass of wine. It was a before dinner glass of wine evening for sure.