Bikers Librarian (Lords of Mayhem 1)

“I just need a signature from you, ma’am.”

“Okay.” She signed her name on the line and eyed the rectangular box tucked under his arm.

“Excellent, here you are, have a nice day.”

He handed her the box and she took it, offering up a small smile as she retreated into her home, confused. Did my mom send me something? It wasn’t unusual for her mom to send her goodies in the mail. Juliette was guilty of doing the same thing if she saw something her mother might like. Who doesn’t like surprises? Closing the door behind her, she engaged the lock and walked into the kitchen. She placed the box on the counter, grabbed a pair of scissors and gingerly cut through the tape. She pulled back the freed flaps and gasped at the brilliant display of wild flowers nestled in packaging with a square vase.

The doubts she’d harbored vanished. His lifestyle would be a challenge to understand. Bitches, Biker Bunnies and a set of rules she didn’t get left her off-kilter. While everyone seemed to be happy, it was harsh and cruel. A happy ending seemed doubtful. Then Shooter did something like this. Her hands shook slightly as she removed everything, filled the vase with water and added the flowers, carefully arranging the baby’s breath among the multicolored blossoms that included daises, sunflowers, peony, pom poms and a few others she couldn’t recognize. Butterflies danced in her stomach. The way this man her feel was unreal. Wonder and awe for his hidden depths brought a silly grin to her mouth. The lack of a card seemed just his style. He didn’t strike her as a poet. She stepped back to admire her work. I am in trouble.

She lifted her mug and sipped her coffee carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was open the floor for her friends to judge her. Nibbling her bottom lip, she shifted her weight. Best to keep it to myself for now. It was a good kind of secret to have. Pleased with her decision, she finished off her coffee, and padded down the hall, feeling like a teenager secretly dating the high school bad boy. Not that she saw Shooter that way. Bad boys had never appealed to her. Sure, there was something sexy about the dark and brooding men, but she’d never been drawn to them, which was why this thing with Shooter came out of left field.

After a quick shower she snapped a picture and sent a photo.

Thanks for the flowers, they’re beautiful. J

Can’t take credit for that. You got a secret admirer? S

She frowned at the response. Who the hell would send her flowers?

No, it’s probably my Mom. J

A woman has to keep things interesting, right? J

Juliette laughed. She hadn’t managed this on purpose, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

Keep doing what you’re doing cause it’s working on me. S

She beamed, glad he couldn’t see her. Her sappy expression would ruin the cool façade she was creating with her words.

You think about what I said last night? S

She furrowed her brow. Their conversation in the woods had ended with an ultimatum. Holding her breath, she cast the die.

I’m in this for the long ride. J

Be sure. I’m persistent about the things I want, and I’m an all or nothing type of man. S

Her stomach tangled into knots and moisture coated her panties. She could hear him saying the words in his sexy baritone. He’d been nothing but honest with her. There was no sugar coating or hiding things until a later date. So she took his words to heart. Mulling over the things that would happen if she said yes, she hesitated. She didn’t know his world. The things she’d seen going on at the lake shocked and partially disgusted her. It was like a mini-Woodstock. Men and women in various stages of undress. Smoking, drinking and fornicating…there was no kinder word she could give the sexual activity going on in those tents.

The thing was, they were free. They did as they pleased and no one was being hurt, or forced into things. There was something admirable in that.

I’m sure. J

It’s a done deal then. S

The text sent blood rushing to her face. Things had changed between them. They were no longer dipping their toes into the water and seeing what happened. Her heart raced and her throat tightened. She took a deep breath, staving off the panic waiting on the wings to rush in. I will not become the things that happened to me in the past. I will move on and be happy. This is a huge step, but nothing I can’t handle. Her heartbeat slowed and she cherished the victory. She was nothing like the woman who’d retreated to lick her wounds.

Taking a deep breath she calmed herself. I’ll go into this with a level head. Everyone had secrets. It was just a matter of time until they came out. Her thoughts turned to Joey. I’ve known that girl all my life and she never said a word. Suddenly her best friend’s attraction to rebels made sense. Her thoughts shifted to her own mother and her stomach bubbled. An old-fashioned woman left alone to raise a child, she had a very narrow view on the type of man she wanted fo

r her daughter. Her mom thought a good job, strong family ties and dependability equaled happiness. If she only knew how wrong she was.

Brushing away unhappy thoughts from the past, she moved toward the bedroom to get dressed and shower to go in to work for the afternoon shift. Humming to herself, she dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white tank top and her favorite black polka dot cardigan. Despite the heat outside, the library was kept at a chilly temperature. She added a funky silver necklace with turquoise squares for a pop of color and got into her car feeling like a million bucks. Embracing the exceptional mood, she turned her Mp3 player to the Beastie Boys and sang along.

* * * * *

Exhausted from a day on her feet and not enough sleep, Juliette made her way toward her car. The library had been packed by kids working on a term paper. It happened in spurts that way throughout the semester. She approached the car and froze. Tiny purplish-blue flowers with yellow centers were strewn across the hood of her car. Narrowing her eyes, she looked around the empty parking lot. There was no sign of anyone, and all the other cars were untouched. The name of the flower eluded her. She wanted to place this on Shooter but it didn’t feel like him. Nothing that man did was low-key. Maybe they were on other cars that left earlier.

Walking closer, she looked for signs of a flyer or a note. It wasn’t unheard of for churches to hit their parking lot, maybe this was a new gimmick? A really, really creepy one. Blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, she brushed the flowers off, keeping one to look up that night on Google. Unlocking the door, she slipped inside, locked the car and shoved her keys into the ignition. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She didn’t like odd occurrences. Her trust in the basic goodness of humanity had been shattered, so she always thought the worst.