Wrench - Steele Riders

After the groceries are in my truck, I pull out down the dark road toward my mother’s. When I arrive, she’s sitting on the porch looking disappointed. “Young man, what are you doing alone?” Did she expect me to kidnap the girl?

“Mom, please don’t start. The girl isn’t interested, and I’m not in the mood to chase. I’m going to put these away and go home.”

“Oh no, dear. I’ve got these. You look a mess. No wonder Mackenzie’s running. Go home. You need a shower. I’m sure you’ve had a long day.” She seems put out that I haven’t fallen for this mysterious woman. I kissed her cheek and left her house before she started up again. It felt good to go to my small house next to the garage. My body’s sore and I’m fucking starving. I pop open my fridge and there’s absolutely shit to eat. Damn it, I grab a banana that’s already ripe and eat it before hitting the shower.A month later, I’m looking through my fridge and find it’s empty as hell. It’s late, but I still head out to the store to buy some groceries, calling my mother just in case she needs some as well. It’s been a couple of days since she sent me on an errand for her.

I enter the grocery store and spend the next thirty minutes, picking up the items I need. Just as I reach the checkout lane, I spot a woman’s ponytail dashing out of view. Shaking my damn head, I help the young bagger pack up my things and pay. If this mysterious woman wants to hide from me, I’m not going to bother. Even if I’m a tad bit curious about how scared of me she is. Who said something about me that has her running? Still, I leave, wondering how persistent my mother was in trying to get us to meet.

After taking all my groceries home and putting them away, I call my mother. “Mom, what did you tell that poor girl about me?”

“Only that you’re handsome and good with your hands and extremely single.”

“Mother,” I snarl out.

“What?”

“Please don’t talk to her about me anymore. I’m not interested, and clearly, she isn’t either,” I tell her. I’m not sure I’m not interested, but I am sure as fuck annoyed that she refuses to even look at me. Damn. I didn’t know my pride could hurt like that.

“Fine.”

I know damn well she’s not ready to give up unless she finds a new target.

Once I’m finished dealing with my mother’s matchmaking, I make dinner. Nothing too fancy, but it gets the job done. I’m full as fuck, so I decide to watch some television, but there ain’t shit on. Needing some air, I head out for a ride on my bike.

Passing by the grocery store, which is now closed, I only see one car in the lot and the tell-tale sound of a car not turning over. A head bangs against the steering wheel in frustration. I ride up to the car and cut my engine. Her wide eyes turn to me, and I’m completely taken by surprise.

“Who the fuck are you?” I ask, coming off rude as hell because I already know the answer. She’s mine.Chapter 2Mackenzie“Shit. This thing is total freaking garbage,” I complain, banging my hand on the steering wheel. It refuses to start. How the hell am I supposed to get home? Tears begin to fill my eyes. This day has been a shit show. First, I broke one of the jacks, the second one in almost a week, sending an entire pallet of corn all over the floor and twisting my ankle after trying to run from Mrs. West’s son.

Some would ask why I would run from that sexy hunk of man meat, but I have a past that I’m running from. Nothing too nefarious, but I don’t want to lie to anyone I date. Even if they are super sexy, and I play with myself every night to thoughts of his rough hands on me. I’ve watched him from far away, staring at his handsome face with subtle muscle through his dirty work clothes. His dark hair needs my hands running through them, but I have to resist.

I hear a motorcycle and my first thought is, “I hope it’s a Steele Rider.” They at least have a good reputation with women and wouldn’t harm me. I turn my head and I’m hit with the first up-close look at Mr. West or as he’s called by everyone—Wrench.

“Who the fuck are you?” he barks out, startling me just for a moment, but from the look in his eyes, it’s not anger I see. Lust, feral lust in those pretty eyes. I moan and catch myself, realizing that I’m embarrassing myself. “Open the fucking door, Mackenzie.”