Page 4 of Shine: Sins of the Father (Evil Dead MC: Second Generation #8)

Fiona—

The weight of a muscular arm is around my waist, and heat radiates into my back from the chest pressed to it. Shine. Everything from last night comes flooding back and my eyelids fly open.

The pale gray of early morning light seeps in through the blinds of the window.

My phone is on the nightstand, and I silently tap the screen to read the time.

It’s just after six a.m. I need to call Janey and call off the party before she heads up here.

There is no way in hell I’m telling her the real reason.

She’d flip out, and I’d have a lot of explaining to do.

I know how I got into this predicament, but I haven’t even figured out why I went along with it.

Now I’ve lied to this man, this club brother, and that is not good in the MC world. Even I know that.

But really, what harm will it do? No one ever has to find out about this little tryst, and I can’t say I haven’t loved every minute.

It seems like it's just what I needed—a good fuck from a sexy-ass stranger. Too bad he had to be part of the MC. There is no way I’d want to hook up with a club member permanently.

Nope. There’s too much heartache. I need a man who’ll be there for me, not one who’s gone at the drop of a hat anytime the club calls.

Still, last night was amazing, and waking in Shine’s arms is icing on the cake.

I can’t keep the smile off my face. But I can’t waste this chance to grab a bit of privacy and warn Janey.

Inching my way off the bed, I slide out from under his hold, then grab my shirt and cutoff shorts and pad across the room and out the door.

Sliding my feet into my sandals, and easing open the cabin door, I slip outside into the cool early morning air.

The soft call of birdsong fills the quiet air.

On the sparkling water, a fisherman far out in the middle of the lake casts a line.

Walking to the water’s edge to get distance from the house, I dig out my phone and call Janey.

She picks up on the third ring.

“What are you doing calling so early?” I hear her yawn.

“I wanted to catch you before you left. Don’t come up here.”

The sound of covers rustling carries through the phone, and I imagine she just sat straight up in bed. “What? Why not?”

There’s concern in her voice, and I’ve obviously freaked her out.

“It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. Something’s just come up, and we can’t have the party here, so there’s no need for you to drive up today. I’m going to spend the weekend alone and get my head together.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Why can’t we have the party? Did the club find out?”

“Something like that. I’ll explain it all later. How’s your mother?”

“They put a splint on and gave her some painkillers. She’s still sleeping. I guess it's for the best we cancel the party, so I can stay and take care of her. My brother is practically useless in that department. I can come get you late Sunday night. That work?”

“Sure. That’s fine.”

“I wish you weren’t being so sketchy about this.”

“Everything’s good, Janey. Don’t worry.”

“I always worry. This whole thing was a dumb idea.”

“No, it wasn’t. I’ll text you later, okay? I’m giving the cabin a deep clean. It’s really helping me clear my mind. Ya know?”

“I suppose. Are you sure you’ll be okay up there by yourself? I could get my aunt to stay with my mom, and I could drive back up this afternoon.”

“No,” I snap too quickly. “I mean, I really want some time alone.”

“Okay. Fine, then. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, hon.”

I turn to the cabin and stop short. Shine is standing in the doorway, bare-chested, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his gaze on me.

“Hey,” I say softly as I approach. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing?”

“Watching the sunrise.” Even now, it's cresting the tree line.

“Who were you talkin’ to?” There’s suspicion in his voice, and I wonder if he has trust issues. I feel bad about lying to him, but it can’t be helped.

“Oh, um, just a friend who’s covering my shift.”

He nods, studying me, and seems satisfied with my answer. “You hungry?”

I rub my upper arms. “I could eat, but I didn’t see any food in the kitchen when they dropped me off.” I’m getting pretty good at making shit up, it seems.

His gaze shifts toward the road. “I was told there’s an old general store not far up the road. Want to take a ride?” He nods toward his bike, and it’s the first time I notice it parked near the rear of the cabin. It’s a pretty black Harley with hard-sided saddlebags.

“Um, sure.” It’s been a while since I’ve been on the back of a motorcycle. I think I was in high school the last time my father took me for a ride.

“Come on.” He tips his head toward the door, and I brush past him.

He snags my neck and pulls me in for a quick kiss before letting me go. “Why don’t you check the cabinets in the kitchen and see what there is while I get dressed?.”

“Sure.” Striding toward it, I glance back and watch his ass as he walks away.

Even his walk is sexy, his shoulders rolling with each stride.

My eyes trail down to the dimples at the base of his spine—ones I’d stroked my hands over last night as he rode me, thrusting in and out slowly, holding my eyes the entire time.

I shake my head and turn to the cabinets, trying not to read anything into it.

The man was good in bed, really good, but that doesn’t mean I meant anything to him.

Still, it’s hard not to imagine, if just for a moment, that this is more than it is—that we are actually a couple.

I let the fantasy drift through my head and imagine what it would be like if he really was my man.

Gazing out the window above the sink, I let my imagination go.

I see myself clinging to him on the back of his bike, and him reaching back and stroking my thigh. Then I wrap my arms around his shoulders and…

The sound of a throat clearing startles me. I don’t hear him until he’s walked up behind me, his hands landing on my hips to pull me against his chest. His mouth trails up my neck, and he nibbles on my ear.

“You look lost in thought,” he murmurs.

I turn my head toward his, and he kisses my cheek. “I suppose I was for a moment.”

“You ready?” he asks, stepping away.

“Yep. There’s not much here except some canned goods, and what there is, could have been here a while. There’s a canister of coffee, but I doubt it's fresh. I found the basic salt and pepper, and that’s about it, besides plates, and essential kitchen equipment.”

“Okay, then. Guess we’re limited only by how much we can fit in the saddlebags. Come on, pretty girl.”

I grab my jacket off the back of a chair and follow him out to his bike.

He digs out a spare helmet and passes it to me. I notice there are stickers on it—ones only a girl would put on her helmet.

“Whose helmet is this?” The question is out of my mouth before I can think better of it.

His mouth tightens, and he busies himself with climbing on and firing the bike up. “A friend.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, I let it go. Besides, I think the engine noise as he revs the throttle is meant to discourage any further discussion on the subject.

I climb on behind Shine, find the foot pegs with my feet, and hang on.

He turns his head and glances out of the corner of his eye. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

With my answer, he pulls out of the gravel driveway onto the blacktop, and we roar down the road.

My love of riding comes flooding back, and I wonder why I haven’t asked one of my brothers for a ride in all these years.

I used to love racing down the highway, the wind in my face, the thunder of the engine beneath me.

I don’t know why I’ve let so much time pass without getting on the back of one.

My father wanted me to go riding with him this past spring, but I declined. Now I wish I hadn’t.

I can tell Shine has abundant riding skills, as I’d expect from any member of the MC.

He doesn’t do anything risky or play the daredevil, so I know he respects me enough to take my safety seriously.

It makes me respect him all the more. He’s old enough that his daredevil days are probably behind him, anyway.

The younger prospects always seem to ride crazy and act the fool, which has never impressed me.

The road eventually intersects with a highway, and on the corner sits Wilson’s. It’s the quintessential old-fashioned general store. I remember coming here with my parents as a child.

There’s a gravel parking lot, and Shine rolls across it, his tires crunching on the rock.

We dismount, stash our helmets, and Shine holds the door for me. A little bell rings over it as we walk in. I pretend it’s all new to me, glancing around.

Shine grabs a green plastic shopping basket from a stack near the door and passes it to me.

The place has a gift and knickknack section up front, but farther back is mainly grocery items. I fill the basket with eggs, bacon, bread, butter, a small container of milk, coffee and some lunch meat and cheese for later.

Shine goes to a cooler in the back and meets me at the counter with a six-pack of beer.

At the last minute, he tosses in a package of marshmallows, graham crackers, and a couple of chocolate bars from a display at the counter.

My eyes lift to his, and he grins.

“Come on. Who doesn’t love s’mores?”

I giggle, and the clerk rings us up, making chit-chat about the weather and fishing. I’m surprised when Shine actually sounds like he’s been before, talking about lures and bait until I roll my eyes at him.

“You two hear about the fire?” the clerk asks, bagging up our items.

“Nope. What fire?” Shine replies.

“It started in Oakhurst last night.”

“How far away is Oakhurst?” Shine asks with a concerned frown.

“These mountainous roads—it would take you three hours to drive there, but as the crow flies, it’s only about fifty miles.”