Twenty minutes later, I walked into the warehouse we’d converted into the Rebel Hearts HQ. My buddy Chadwick sat on the couch, his feet propped up on the old Army trunk we used as a coffee table.
“Hey,”—I plopped down next to him on the huge sectional—“what do you think is the most romantic city in the world?”
He squinted over at me. “Why do you want to know? You planning an upcoming trip with someone I don’t know about?”
“No. I’m just curious.” I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the new girl in town, especially Chadwick. He wouldn’t make a move, not if I told him I was interested, but word had a way of getting around and I wanted to keep Bess all to myself as long as possible.
“Hell, I don’t know. Isn’t Paris supposed to be the most romantic city in the world?”
Not him too. I figured he’d say something like Padre Island during spring break. Maybe I’d underestimated his softer side. “I suppose it’s all right.”
That made two votes for Paris. I still had a long way to go until I asked a hundred people. Surely some of the other guys would come up with a more original answer than Paris.
“It’s quiet around here.” Usually there were at least half a dozen guys hanging out at the clubhouse. “I thought we were getting together to talk about the threat from the Vasquez family.”
Our tiny town of Maplewood had found itself smack dab in the middle of a land grab by one of the largest drug cartels in Mexico. They were engaged in a turf war and trying to establish a direct route through Texas so they could traffic their product to the northern states.
“I’m sure we’ll start soon. You want a beer or something?”
“Nah.” I still had work to do later. My next job didn’t start for a few weeks but would require some heavy research. I got up from the couch and headed down the hall to my room. One of the perks of being an office of the MC was having my own bedroom at the clubhouse. I preferred staying at my own place, but having a room onsite came in handy during events or when we had a meeting that ran late. I’d barely closed the door when someone rang the old school bell to summon everyone to the table.
Daydreams of Bess would have to wait. I was just as eager as the rest of my MC brothers to get a handle on the threat the Vasquez operation posed. I typed out a quick text to Bess to let her know she had two votes so far. Then I slid my phone back into my pocket and joined my brothers. We weren’t about to start a fight, but if they insisted on moving in on our turf, we wouldn’t hesitate to step up and defend our town.
CHAPTER4
BESS
“What did you think about downtown?”My dad cleared the paperwork off the passenger seat as I climbed into his late model truck.
“It’s nice.” I buckled my seatbelt and set my backpack on the floor between my feet. “Better than the last place you and Mom settled down.”
“We go where we’re needed the most.” Dad pulled onto the narrow two-lane road that ran straight through town.
They’d moved about a month ago while I was finishing spring semester of my junior year at the University of Texas in Austin. I would graduate with over nine thousand students next spring, probably three times the number of people who lived within a ten-mile radius of Maplewood.
It was going to be an adjustment staying with them this summer, especially since Dad expected house rules to apply while I was living under his roof. I’d never really gone out with anyone except for an extremely short-lived awkward thing my freshman year, but I was confident Dad’s rules didn’t include dinner dates with a local biker.
I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. Triton didn’t strike me as someone who suffered from a lack of female attention. My insides melted just thinking about him: the sexy beard, the ripped muscles, the teasing glint in his beautiful brown eyes. I fanned myself with my hand, suddenly quite a bit warmer than I’d been just seconds ago.
Dad reached out and turned up the air. “Are you hot, honey?”
“No, I’m fine.” I wondered how he’d react if I told him I was all hot and bothered over a man. Would he pull out a chastity belt and lock it around my hips or lecture me on the importance of staying pure until marriage? I wasn’t curious enough to bring it up.
I’d keep my interaction with Triton to myself. It’s not like I’d hear from him again since I’d purposely typed the wrong number into his phone. I was definitely interested, but I’d never win that battle with my dad. He had a certain type of man in mind for me. Preferably one whose idea of fun involved writing the perfect Sunday sermon. Of course, my role would be to play the dutiful wife like my mother had always done. According to him, a woman’s place was in the kitchen and her purpose was to support her husband and bear as many children as she could.
“We need to stop by the church on the way home. I’ve got to take care of a few things, but it won’t take more than a half hour or so.” Dad pulled into the parking lot of the small white church. Since I got home on Saturday, he’d already shown me around the church and the surrounding land. It was a typical old-fashioned country church with a smaller building holding offices attached and several outbuildings dotting the property that were no longer in use.
“Do you mind if I come in with you?” I’d melt if I stayed in the truck. Maplewood might feel like a world away from Austin, but the heat was the same, even in mid-May.
“Just stay out of Celia’s way.” Dad held the door open and nodded toward the woman behind the desk. “Celia, you remember my daughter Bess?”
She peered up at me through thick glasses and gestured to a pair of well-worn chairs that looked like they’d come out of a hotel built in the 70s. “Of course. You can sit right here while you wait.”
“Thank you.” I sat down and picked up last Sunday’s bulletin to fan myself. The window unit whirred with the effort of blowing lukewarm air.
“Pastor Phil, there’s a gentleman in your office. He got here about a half hour ago and has been waiting for you.” Celia nodded toward the open office door and lowered her voice. “He seemed very eager to talk to you but wouldn’t tell me what it’s about.”
“I’ll handle it.” Dad picked up a stack of papers sitting in a tray on the corner of Celia’s desk and headed into his office, closing the door behind him.
