Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(129)

“Now I’m busy…er.”

He shook his head and moved closer. She stood her ground but he saw her body go stiff. He ignored that and continued, “You’re avoiding me and have been since that shit went down a while back.”

“What shit?” she asked, and she was so obviously attempting to pull the wool, he almost smiled because it was fucking cute.

Damn.

“You know what shit,” he replied.

“Shy—” she began, moving back, but he caught her by her upper arm and she went still again.

He leaned down so their faces were close.

Jesus, she had a fantastic mouth.

“It was harsh, babe, way harsh, too harsh. I see that now, but it’s been over a year and you’re still freezing me out. This shit can’t go on, Tabby. We’re family.”

He saw that fantastic mouth of hers twist in a way that made his gut do the same before she whispered, “We’re not family.”

“We’re both Chaos,” he reminded her.

“We’re not family,” she repeated.

“Babe—”

She twisted her arm out of his hold but didn’t move away when she spoke.

“My family talked to me about the shit that went down with that guy after it happened years ago, Shy. Ty-Ty, Dad, Rush were there for me. I screwed up, things with Mom were bad, she was always all over me even when I didn’t do anything wrong. I was sixteen and stupid so, I thought, what the heck? If I was going to be in trouble anyway, I might as well do something to be in trouble for, and I was with a guy who was way too old for me. He tried it on with me, it flipped me out, and when I said no, he wasn’t cool. He hit me, hurt me, and I called Tyra to help me out. She called you to take her back. And, well, you were there. You know the rest.”

“Tab—” Shy tried again, now trying to cut in because he could tell going over the past was not somewhere she wanted to be but Tabby kept talking.

“When they confronted me about it, it wasn’t comfortable but it was honest and gentle and what I needed. Sheila took me aside and she asked me and listened to me when I had to let go of shit about Mom. Arlo took me out for a hot dog and a discussion on how to spot a good guy and when to know when a guy’s a jerk. And all of them had my back for years after that went down to make sure nothing like that went down again. It was overboard, overprotective, and annoying but at least it was loving.” She shook her head. “But you…you made assumptions. You showed you decided exactly the kind of girl I was that night when that guy took his hand to me without knowing one single thing about me. I wasn’t what you thought, Shy. I didn’t need your shit and I also didn’t deserve it. Family doesn’t make judgments. They talk. They support. You made a judgment. You acted on that judgment. You doing it hurt me so that means you are not my family.”

After gutting him, she turned on her boot, stomped to her car, folded her curvy, little body in and then she was off, leaving Shy standing at the side of the road.





Four months later…

Shy sat on his bike, pissed. Construction jacking up downtown and some show getting out at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts meant traffic was jammed every-fucking-where.

He watched three cars get through the light and didn’t budge on his bike before they were back to red and he was back to thinking he’d ride his bike up on the sidewalk to get past this shit. The cars were so jacked, jockeying for position to make it to the single lane they had to get through, he couldn’t even ride between to get the fuck out.

He sat back and turned his head, gliding his eyes through the waves of people crawling over the sidewalks, crossing the street and climbing down the stairs at DCPA, when his eyes passed through her and his head jerked back.

Tabby.

Tabby wearing a tight, strapless red dress covered in lace, the scallops skimming her knees. On her feet were high, spiked black heels that were sexy as all fuck, the same as they were classy. Her mass of hair was pulled softly back from her face, tucked in a complicated arrangement of curls at the back.

She looked like a modern-day princess. Elegant. Sophisticated. High-class.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

She was looking around like she was lost, and he was about to put his tongue to his teeth to whistle when she found what she was looking for and Shy went rock solid.

A tall, good-looking, built blond guy in a suit moved to her, smiling. She tipped her head back, not smiling.

Fucking beaming.

Shy watched as the man slid an arm around her waist, she leaned into his body, and he bent to touch his mouth to hers. He stayed bent, kept his face close to hers, as any man would do, Tabby dressed like that, looking like that, smiling like that, and her mouth moved.

Then his head shot back as he burst out laughing.

Tabby watched for a beat before she dropped her chin and rested her forehead against his chest, her arms moving to curve around him and hold him while he shook with humor.

“Jesus,” Shy muttered, that burn back, in his gut, chest, heart, even up his fucking throat.

He wanted to but he couldn’t tear his eyes away when the man dipped his chin back down, cupped her jaw with a hand, lifted her face to his, and bent to touch his mouth to Tabby’s again.

But it wasn’t a touch.

He kept his mouth on hers a long fucking time. Like they weren’t on a sidewalk with hundreds of people streaming around them and waiting in cars to get through traffic. Like they were alone, just them.