Page 6 of Scythe (Devil Daddies MC #2)

“ T hat biker is waiting on you?” Abby Fairchild asked.

Winnie nodded at the third-grade teacher who’d become her bestie in the school.

She loved everyone she taught with except Lorraine Oberson.

The entire building had groaned collectively when the superintendent had chosen the fifth-grade teacher to fill the suddenly available principal’s position.

Winnie didn’t blame their former educational leader for moving with his family when his wife took a prestigious law partnership in New York City, but everyone missed him.

“He’s sexy,” Abby said, waggling her eyebrows. “You haven’t told me anything!”

“Sorry. I met him last night at Inferno,” Winnie shared as she gathered papers to grade at home.

“You went to Inferno? Without me?”

“Or us!” chimed in three more teachers clustered inside the door. Those closest to her classroom had gathered magically to get the scoop. Handsome men on motorcycles didn’t show up frequently. Or at all.

“You guys! Was everyone watching?” Winnie asked.

“You bet. You have nose prints all over your windows. Julie stopped to see what would happen. She was super interested,” Becky, the other third-grade staff member, said, chuckling.

Julie, their custodian, joining those monitoring the encounter in the parking lot meant everyone in the building would know—soon. Winnie shook her head. Here it goes.

“What’s his name?” Abby asked.

“Scythe.”

“Like the big blade thing Death carries?” Becky asked.

“That’s his biker name,” Winnie explained.

“I’d hope so. That would be a fun name to find on your roster at the beginning of the year. Three Michaels, two Johns, and a Scythe,” Susan said.

Winnie stared at the other second-grade teacher and considered that discovery. “You’d guess his parents were unique?” she suggested.

“So much better than a hellion named Precious,” Becky said. “They’re never precious. But Scythe is a grown man. And hot.”

“At nine months pregnant, nothing should be hot,” Susan reminded Becky.

“I’m not dead.” Becky laughed and rubbed her baby bump.

“I don’t want to make him wait,” Winnie said, lifting her bag. “Run interference for me? Tell everyone he’s a friend of the family.” That was true. He’d definitely helped her deal with her stepfather’s collection.

“We’ve got you,” Abby assured her. “But you have to share all the details at lunch tomorrow.”

Rolling her eyes, Winnie agreed. “See you ladies on Tuesday.” Winnie was surprised to find herself smiling as she walked down the hallway to the parking lot with her evening stack to grade. She felt more energetic than she had in forever, even after getting a letter in her file for the first time.

Maybe she should fight that. Pushing open the door, Winnie smiled at Scythe. Four young teachers dawdled in the parking lot. She bet they were trying to figure out how to start a conversation with the powerful biker. He only had eyes for her. Winnie liked that a lot as she crossed the asphalt.

Scythe took her bookbag and slid it into a storage pouch on the side of his bike. “I thought the kids had homework, not the teacher.”

“You don’t know a lot of people in the education field, do you?”

“I know one now. Let’s get you protected for the trip home.” He held out a huge jacket.

“Um, it’s not cold. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t ride without something made to protect your skin.”

She stared at him, wavering in her decision that she could ride a motorcycle. “Do you crash a lot?”

“No, Chipmunk. But people are crazy out there. Better prepared than hurt. Think of this like a rubber. You like bareback but don’t want the complications of something bad happening.”

“A rubber?” she repeated, feeling confused.

“Protection.” He suggested another word.

Rubber? Protection? What was he talking about? The knowing smile on his face helped Winnie make the connection.

“Scythe!” she said and had to laugh. She leaned closer and whispered, “Who else would compare a motorcycle coat and a condom?”

“In you go,” he prompted, shaking the jacket.

In a few minutes, he released the zipper pull when she stood swallowed up by the volume of material around her. Winnie flapped her arms, feeling ridiculous. Scythe shook his head at her silliness and rolled up her sleeves so she could use her hands.

“Scythe, I’m going to act like a parachute to slow you,” she warned.

“I won’t be going racing speed with you onboard,” he told her, picking up the helmet and setting it on her head.

He carefully brushed the escaping wisps of hair from her face and fastened the chin strap before tucking the length of her ponytail inside the borrowed coat.

“Now, you won’t have to battle tangles when you get home. ”

“Thanks. Do I need to know anything about riding?”

“Keep your feet on the pegs,” he said, flipping down metal supports. “Don’t get your leg close to the tailpipes. They get hot, and you’ll have a nasty burn.” He tapped the area on the bike to avoid.

When she nodded, he added, “Rest your body against my back. Lean the way I do, even if you think you’ll tip over. I promise you that won’t happen.”

“Okay.” Winnie hoped she’d remember all of this when they started.

“Let me get on first. I’ll wave you to my side when I’m ready. You’ll swing your leg over, and we can go on an adventure. Do you have to get to your mom’s quickly?”

“By five. My stepsister leaves for work at fifteen after.”

“She stays with your mom during the day?”

“Yes. She sleeps after the late shift but is there if Mom needs her and I’m at school,” Winnie shared.

“Okay, I’ll make sure you’re home before five. That gives us time for an adventure and maybe ice cream to make up for your lousy day.”

“That would be incredible. You’re sure you have time?”

“I’d make time for you, Chipmunk.”

As she digested that statement, he got onto the bike and started it up. Scythe lifted the bike from the kickstand and held it steady after dealing with the metal support.

“When you’re ready, Winnie.”

She moved closer and considered her options. Winnie hadn’t planned on riding a motorcycle this morning when she chose her outfit for the day. The full skirt was comfortable but would make straddling the bike a challenge.

Remembering something she’d seen in a movie, Winnie reached between her legs to grab the hem on the back of her skirt. She pulled it to the front and up to tuck the material into her waistband, creating a divided garment much like harem pants. Winnie looked up at Scythe triumphantly. “Ta-da!”

“So creative! Jump on, fashionista.”

Grinning for the first time that day, Winnie swung her leg over the seat. She tried not to wiggle around too much, afraid to topple the bike over. Scythe reached one powerful arm behind him and pulled her firmly against him.

“Wrap your arms around me, Winnie.”

When she tentatively held on to his waist, trying to scoot back a bit, Scythe tugged her wrists forward and tugged her arms around him. She couldn’t believe how hard his belly was. Did he have an ounce of fat on him? She sucked in her slight tummy, hoping he couldn’t feel that.

“Relax, Chipmunk. Stay close to me. It helps us move together. Hold on.” With that warning, Scythe turned the handle of the bike and eased them forward.

Winnie squealed and grabbed him tighter. They moved through the parking lot, which suddenly seemed like an obstacle course. Scythe handled the bike like a dream.

When they reached the road, Winnie relaxed.

She loved the wind blowing past them. It seemed to blast all her worries away.

Instantly she understood why people rode motorcycles.

Very little in her life felt like freedom anymore—a crappy boss, her mother desperately ill, and a demanding job she loved but left her emotionally and physically drained.

Her well of inner resiliency was drained to the last droplets of water.

“You okay, Chipmunk?” Scythe asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she shouted over the wind and relaxed her grip on his waist.

Scythe rubbed her forearm before easing the bike into the far parking lot of a park. When he had the bike secured, he turned to lift her around his bulk. Sitting her in his lap, he scanned her face.

“You look like you just lost your best friend,” he said gently.

That bit of kindness was all it took. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, and Winnie threw herself forward into his arms. Scythe hugged her to his chest and let her cry until her sobs diminished. He kissed her temple and asked, “Can you talk to me now, Little girl?”

“What a mess I am!” Winnie wiped her hands over her face. “I cried on your leather vest. It won’t ever be the same. Can—Can I have it cleaned for you?”

“Little girl, eyes on me.”

Unable to refuse, Winnie met his gaze. She’d seen his blue-green eyes look angry at Inferno when he suspected the worst of her. Now that beautiful gaze radiated concern and caring. She almost started tearing up again.

“Crying’s over for a few minutes, Chipmunk,” he said, tapping her nose like he knew thoughts were whirling in her mind. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” she answered, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Are you scared?”

She shook her head. “This is fun. It made me realize how little I get to escape from the real world.”

“And that made you sad?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry, Little girl. I’m going to ensure you get to enjoy life, starting right now.” He pulled a bandana from inside his vest and wiped her cheeks and eyes.

“Blow,” he told her firmly, holding the material to her nose.

When she attempted to take it from him, he tilted his head in a silent warning. Winnie knew he wouldn’t hurt her. She decided to be brave and followed his instructions.

“Good girl. That deserves ice cream, don’t you think?”

Winnie nodded eagerly.

“Up you go, Chipmunk.” He boosted her off his lap to stand next to the bike before swinging his leg over the seat. In minutes, he had their helmets off and held her hand.

Scythe pointed to an industrial vehicle parked across the field. “I noticed a new food truck had started showing up here last week. Let’s go try it.”

Winnie took two steps and remembered to unfasten her skirt so she could walk easier.

With her clothing restored into place, she slid her hand into Scythe’s.

They crossed the grassy area and stopped a short distance away to decide on a flavor.

When they had their cones, Scythe led her to a bench where they sat to eat.

Licking happily on her ice cream cone, Winnie refused to think of anything other than the beautiful day, the delicious treat, and the handsome man next to her. “How’s the chocolate crunch? That was my second choice.”

“Try it.” Scythe held out his cone.

She eyed the decadent ball on the cone. It seemed intimate to taste it after him.

“I’m healthy and got tested after my old lady decided she was tired of MC life,” Scythe told her.

“Tested?” she echoed.

“For any communicable diseases, Chipmunk. That means I can’t give you anything.”

“Oh!” As she processed that statement, Winnie decided to live dangerously and mentally thumbed her nose at the germs. Yielding to temptation, she leaned forward to lick the stream of chocolate that dripped over the side. “Yum! That’s really good. I like mine too, but yours is better.”

Scythe plucked her cone from her hand and replaced her flavor with his.

“Wait! You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

“I wanted to try this one too.” He devoured a bite of her ice cream. “Ooo! That caramel is good.”

“I’m not sick either. I mean, I got tested after my last boyfriend for some weird reason…. I mean, he wasn’t really my boyfriend. Just the brother of a classmate that needed help with his essays.” Her voice trailed off, and she concentrated on her cone.

Winnie hated that she was awkward. She liked Scythe a lot. He’d soon figure out she was a hot mess and avoid her.

“Do you still miss him?”

She met his gaze in shock. “Heavens, no! He’s a total goofball. Frankie got a job in New Jersey, and I came here to teach. We weren’t involved involved, if you know what I mean.”

“He moved after college?”

“Yes. Then mom started getting sick. It took a while for them to figure out what was wrong,” Winnie said. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Chipmunk.”

“Why do you call me that?” she asked, swirling her tongue around the edge of the cone to catch the melting bits.

“Because you dived into me like a chipmunk into his den when your superintendent almost caught you.”

“I’m such a klutz,” she said, rolling her eyes at her stupidity.

“I will not allow you to talk badly about yourself, Little girl,” Scythe reprimanded her sternly. “The fact I’m calling you an adorable creature should clue you in that I quite enjoy having you make me your safe place.”

“Oh!” Winnie repeated his statement in her mind. He thought she was adorable, and it sounded like he liked having her around. Winnie sat straighter and met his gaze directly. Maybe she should check that she hadn’t misunderstood. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“It’s an extremely good thing, Winnie. Do you promise to tell me if you ever stop feeling safe with me?” Scythe asked.

“Are you a good guy? I mean, is your gang okay? They don’t hurt people?”

“First of all, the Devil Daddies is a MC. That stands for motorcycle club. We ride together. Think of it like a social club.”

“Oh, that’s fun. You like, go for ice cream?”

“I won’t ever lie to you, Chipmunk. We all stand together for what is right for the club. I can promise you we will never hurt you or yours. You’re under my protection now.”

“I don’t really need protection,” she pointed out. “I’m only a second-grade teacher. Nothing too exciting there.”

“Everyone needs someone in their corner—even beautiful teachers.”

Her cheeks heated, and Winnie knew she was blushing. “You don’t have to make up compliments. I don’t usually dress like I did last night. That was my stepsister’s. I couldn’t even get into Inferno the first couple of times.”

“You’ll have no trouble getting into Inferno now.”

“Because I’m with you?” she asked.

“Because you’re mine.”