WAYLON (Ruthless MC 1)

CHAPTER 32

I'm not prepared for Waylon to be here, asking why I came to his trailer.

He’s standing so close…so close I can smell his engine and leather scent even though he’s not on his motorcycle or wearing his club jacket. There’s also a faint sweat odor—the kind that comes with a day of hard work. It should be off-putting.

But…it’s not. It’s just not.

My body reacts to his nearness, and my brain statics, not knowing what to do with him or his question. He looms, and I avert my eyes, not sure how to answer.

But even with my eyes pushed in a different direction, I can’t miss the lopsided grin that turns up his lips. “You telling me I missed it when you finally showed up at my trailer to submit?”

Okay, that cocky question unstatics my brain.

“No,” I answer, righteous indignation kicking in to defend myself. “I need—the medical trailer needs some important supplies. And Charlie was like, ‘Waylon has to approve it,’ even though I'm supposed to be the town nurse. So, I came to your trailer to get what I needed approved. That's all.”

He scans my face, and there’s a devilish glint in those crystal-blue eyes. “I'm sorry I wasn't there when you stopped by, angel. I would've made giving you what you need my highest priority if it had been me who answered the door instead of Cindy. Maybe I could’ve convinced you to give me a few things I need too.”

I narrow my eyes, disliking all the innuendo in his voice for more reasons than one. “I don’t think you need anything from me. Cindy? Is that the name of the woman who answered your door? She seemed very enthusiastic. Super willing to go above and beyond to give you anything you want.”

Waylon’s half-grin becomes a full-blown smile with all those perfect white teeth Lucinda didn’t know he had on display. “Yeah, she's a hell of a maid. That's why I always say it’s got to be her when the cleaning service comes through.”

The righteous indignation in my chest loses a bit of steam as I remember what Lucinda said last week about the maid service not coming until Saturday. Today is Saturday. “So, wait, you're trying to tell me that girl was your maid. And that's all?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.” Waylon crooks his head, still smiling, like I’ve just made his day. “Who did you think she was?”

“Not your maid.” I scoff and let him know, “I find that hard to believe—what kind of maid doesn’t wear anything but a pair of panties to work?”

“A Ruthless Reapers kind of maid.” He raises an eyebrow. “You’re living with Meemaw and damn near best friends with Lucinda, from what I hear. Neither of them told you about the maid service?”

I look to the side again, realizing that they both did and didn’t. Plus, there was all that stuff Charlie told me about Meemaw being great in bed….and what Lucinda said to me about quitting maid service for bikers without old ladies after she and Crazytown hooked up.

But then I also remember something else this Cindy said and folded my arms over my chest. “She mentioned you hadn’t asked for a threesome in a while. And she invited me to join the two of you—I’m assuming that meant in bed.”

He snorts. “I don’t ask. I tell. And yeah, I’ll admit, I let her give me some relief when I got back from Delaware. Her and a lot of other women. I was pissed at you for sending me packing, and that was before I decided on a new plan. I didn’t touch her or anybody else but you in that church library after I decided to start this town.”

I can’t quite meet his eyes as he tells me this. And I hate that I’m hanging on every word. That the thought of him with other women spiked something ugly inside of me—something that his claim he hadn’t touched anyone else since starting the town relieved.

I avoid his eyes, but Waylon chases them down and pins me with a knowing look. “If you’re jealous, I can tell her to put on some clothes the next time she comes over to clean my place.”

“I'm not jealous,” I immediately insist.

That eyebrow goes right back up again. “So, you just trashed Charlie's store because you wanted latex gloves, bandages, cotton swabs, and antiseptic wipes that damn bad?”

Okay, did he have to rattle off my exact list? And yeah, maybe I was a little jealous. But there's no way I'm telling him that.

“Yes,” I answer with a completely straight face. “That's exactly why I trashed his store. I care deeply about my patients. And he was delaying my ability to serve them with his needless requirement for your approval.”

I take a much-needed step back from the looming biker and clear my throat. “So, if you could just tell Charlie to approve all my orders going forward, as well as whoever you find to take over the medical trailer when I get out of here, I’d appreciate that. And I’m sure my replacement will too.”