Bewitching The Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 7)

“Love my girl, but an old lady needs her beauty sleep.”

“Night.”

Her palm sweeps along my jaw, and she leaves me alone with my troubled thoughts.

I finish the tea and return to my former bedroom. Gram hasn’t touched or moved a thing since I moved out, other than sweeping and mopping the floor. I stare at my old corkboard that hangs over my desk. I used to clip and print things from magazines and online of the life I imagined I’d grow up to live. Witnessing a murder wasn’t part of the vision.

I crawl into bed, snuggling down deep in the purple sheets with black polka dots on them. I close my eyes hoping sleep claims me, but it doesn’t come on quickly.

Thoughts of Sandman plague me.

His words replay in my thoughts over and over again until they turn snowy like an old Tv screen. I can still smell him. Feel his lips on mine. His arms wrapped around me, like they’ve always held me close. I allowed myself to believe for a fraction of a second that maybe just maybe he was the star I had wished on. The bad boy I dreamed of. The man made for me. The love I craved. What I’ve been missing.

Not that I need another person to complete me...but I wanted it. I still do.

The man for me is out there.

Somewhere.

**

“I said I was sorry, Boo.” I can’t believe I’m apologizing to my cat for leaving her alone for one night. It’s not like she didn’t have food or water. “If it is any consolation I didn’t sleep for shit.” She turns her tail up and struts back down the hall to resume her perch in the window, people watching.

I tossed and turned for two hours at Gram’s before I gave up on sleep and came home. Sandman’s motorcycle was long gone and a sliver of me was sad I missed the chance to watch him drive away. Because though I’m angry with him the man is dead fucking sexy. Part of me is hooked on the fantasy of what might have been. He’s the kind of bad boy that could turn any good girl dirty.

I stare at my phone, practically willing him to call. To say something to make my heart sing. To make it easy to forgive what I overheard. He thinks I hexed him but it’s me who is cursed. All I can think about are his green eyes and the way he looked at me like maybe I could be his everything despite only having just met me.

Gram used to say that there is someone for everyone and when your souls touch you truly awaken. My thoughts keep drifting to her words, “Today is the day.”

The question is the day for what? For our paths to cross? For me to bear witness to Mariah’s dreadful fate with him?

His soul kissed mine and for that moment in space and time he was mine. I’d found my other half. The stars had aligned. Except everything has a price. Maybe Sandman is mine for not doing more. For not being a better person.

A good person would have called the police.

A good person would have fought for Mariah.

I unroll my yoga mat in the living room. It’s raining again. Not a good day for a run. I sit cross legged and close my eyes focusing on simply breathing.

“Breathe in. Out. Breathe in. Out.” I practice the exercise a few times, but I can’t focus.

A loud pop from outside sends me right back to the moment I’m trying to forget. The instant I was witness to an execution. Tears race down my cheeks and plop onto my breasts like the raindrops hitting my window sill. I breathe in and imagine I’m pressed up against Sandman’s chest once more, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his cologne and leather.

“Don’t look,” he whispers in my mind as his fingers comb through my tangled curls.

“Meow,” Boo purrs, butting her head into my lap.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” I scratch behind her ears. I take the resounding purr as a yes. A heavy yawn escapes me. I’m glad Gram doesn’t want me in the shop today because exhaustion is gripping me and about to suck me under. I give up yoga and trudge to my bed falling face first into the thick pillows and fluffy blanket.

**

Buzz. Buzz. I crack an eye open and reach for my cell phone as it vibrates on my nightstand. It’s my Gram.

“Hey,” I croak.

“There’s a young man here in the shop asking for you.”

My heart flutters. “What’s his name?”

“Didn’t say. He’s a looker though.”

I smile. “I’ll be down in a few.” I throw back my blanket in a daze after ending the call. I scurry to the bathroom and splash cool water on my face. Boo takes up residence on the lid of the commode watching me brush my teeth as if it’s the most fascinating task ever performed.

I put my hair into a messy bun and throw a zip up hoodie over my sports bra and leggings. Since I’m just running down to the shop, I slip a pair of flip flops on. I stare at the purple polish on my toes and make a mental note to give myself a pedicure later...or tomorrow depending on how this chat with Sandman goes. I get to the bottom of the stairs and round the street to the front of the store, searching for his motorcycle. I don’t see it and wonder why he didn’t knock on my door or call to say he was stopping by. The thought that it isn’t him doesn’t cross my mind until I open the door and see a man. One I don’t recognize sitting in one of the chairs Gram refurbished drinking a cup of her tea.

Gram smirks at me from behind the counter. What is she up to?

“Bianca Sumner as I live and breathe.” The man grins over the brim of his teacup.

I stare at him. For starters Gram was not wrong. The man is what she calls dapper. Dressed in a white button-down shirt with sleeves pushed up to reveal his veiny forearms paired with dark grey slacks that fit him like a second skin as he stands. The expensive fabric stretches over his thick thighs.

I gulp as he holds out a mammoth hand. “Logan Smith.”

“Logan...as in we went to middle school together Logi bear?” I shake his hand and a tingle shoots down my spine as his hand swallows mine.

“The one and only, but just Logan these days. I’m taking over your account at my uncle’s branch, and when I saw your name, I wanted to say hello.”

Okay Logan Smith the scrawny jerk from middle school has grown up to be smoking hot. Chiseled jaws, a perfectly sculpted nose, stormy grey eyes, and a charming smile.

“Your uncle’s branch?”