Own the Wind (Chaos #1)(6)

She had books and notepads stacked around, two empty coffee cups on the table, one half full. She was bent over a book, elbow on the table, hand in her mane of hair at the top of her head, holding it away from her face. Her concentration was on a book and a notepad in front of her, pencil in hand.

He hadn’t seen her since that night he gave her the lesson and took her home. She wasn’t a regular at Ride or at the Compound, but she was around. She was tight with Cherry; they went shopping together a lot, and Tabby met Cherry there when they went. Sometimes she studied in the office while Cherry worked. She was tight with some of the brothers, particularly Tack’s lieutenants, Dog and Brick, and Big Petey, one of the founding members who took a break from the Club for a few years to go be with his daughter while she was fighting cancer. He came back when she lost that fight and Tab, being how Tab could be and growing up with Big Petey, moved in to balm that hurt. So it wasn’t unheard of to see her shooting the shit with Pete opposite the counter inside the auto supply store, teasing him by his Harley Trike in the forecourt or sitting close with him and talking on one of the picnic tables outside the Compound.

Then, for five months, she’d disappeared. Not a sign of her. Shy wasn’t on Chaos every minute of his day but when he was, she wasn’t there.

She hadn’t been to one of the three hog roasts they’d had. She didn’t even go to the party they threw when they took on their new recruits, Snapper and Bat.

And there hadn’t been another Tabby Callout since that night.

Now here she was, studying. Business was bustling and Tex seemed to need to make as much noise as possible when forcing a coffee drink out of the espresso machine, and yet she didn’t look around or break concentration at all.

And, Shy thought, there it was. He’d made his point. She’d learned her lesson. Focus on the shit that mattered. She was taking the opportunity her father was offering to set herself up with a good life, getting control of that wild side and cleaning the trash out of her life.

He paid the knockout redhead named Indy who owned the place for his drink, got it from Tex at the other end of the counter and moved to Tab’s table.

He pulled out the seat opposite her and twisted it around to straddle it, saying softly, “Yo, babe,” before her body jerked with surprise and her head came up.

Her eyes hit him and he saw something that made him uneasy flash through them before she shut it down. Her face went blank, and her eyes slid through the room before coming back to him.

“What’re you doin’ here?” she asked quietly.

He lifted his to go cup. “Coffee. Best in town. Come here all the time.”

She looked at his cup then at the two coffee mugs on the table in front of her before her fingers slid through her hair and she straightened in her chair.

When Shy recovered from watching her thick, shining hair move through her fingers and he realized she wasn’t speaking, he asked, “Studying?”

Her gaze went to her books like she’d never seen them before, it came back to him and she answered, “Yeah. I’ve got two tests this week.”

“Harsh,” he muttered, though he wouldn’t know. He’d never studied for tests. The fact that somewhere in the junk in his apartment was a high school diploma was a miracle.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I need to get back to it.”

“What?” he asked.

She looked down at her books, turned her pencil in her hand and tapped the eraser end to her notepad before repeating, “I need to get back to it.”

“You don’t want company,” he surmised.

“Um… I have two tests. I have a lot of work to do.”

Shy nodded then asked, “You come here a lot?”

That sweet, pink tongue came out to touch her upper lip, the burn in his chest magnified before her tongue disappeared and she answered, “No, just trying out places where I can get my studying groove on. It gets a little insane at home.”

“The boys,” Shy guessed. She had two new brothers: Rider, who just turned three, and Cutter, who was one, meant home was not where she could get that particular groove on.

“Yeah, they’re little kids but they’re also Allens, so things can get rowdy,” she muttered.

He heard Tex banging on the espresso machine, and he knew Fortnum’s could get a little insane too.

Thinking that, thinking that it was cool Tabby was finally focused on the right things, and trying not to think about how much or why he’d like her at his place, he offered, “You need space, babe, I got an apartment. I’m never in it. Can’t say it’s clean but it is quiet.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

He pushed up from the chair, righting it at the table, saying, “Anytime, Tab, you need it, it’s yours. Just give me a call.”

She nodded, swallowed then mumbled, “Later,” to his shoulder before she looked back down to her books, curling in her chair, slouching back to her elbow, hand back in her hair.

It was the swallow, the mumbling, and the talking to his shoulder that drove Shy to round the table, lift a hand, and pull her hair away from her face.

Her head jerked back as her eyes shot to him.

“We good?” he asked.

“Sure,” she answered, too quickly.

“You sure about that?” he pressed.