Biker Daddy Page 3

  She examined him further noticing his black leather vest was open and the t-shirt he’d been wearing earlier was gone. She swallowed hard. His chest was bare beneath the vest. His muscles, although well-defined, weren’t overly bulky and were tanned and smooth except for a smattering of chest hair. He wasn’t some sweaty hairy beast. His arms were covered in tattoos, and although they were pretty scary-looking they also gave her a zing of excitement in her belly. She hadn’t felt that since she was a teen. All things dangerous terrified her now and this guy had danger written up and down both arms. His eyebrow cocked up and Addi stopped gawking and cleared her throat.

  “I’m sorry?” Addi’s voice went up in pitch at being caught ogling him. Gee, like you’ve never seen a hot guy before.

  “Good. Now go away,” he said, pointing toward the road. The sound of his voice vibrated inside her. He smiled menacingly, and his perfect teeth made her eyes widen. This man could be a model—well, if he wasn’t a biker.

  “I’m not,” she stammered, feeling confused.

  “Not what?”

  “Sorry.” She grabbed the bag she’d dropped and began breathing in it again. He set his hands on his hips, looked skyward and swore. Insulted, she put the bag back on the seat. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her!

  “I—I.” Why did she feel so tongue-tied? Because I hadn’t expected to see a biker at my uncle’s and I’ve been traveling and I’m exhausted and grieving and darn it, he’s a rude jackass!—And most likely my gay uncle’s boyfriend. She gave herself permission to be a little undone.

  “If you weren’t, then why’d you say it?” He fingered the hair in the divot beneath his extremely sensual mouth as his lips curled into a snarl.

  “Who are you?” she asked, attempting to open her door. He didn’t step out of the way to let her though. He leaned down into the window and glanced around the rental as if assessing whether he should let her out or not.

  “That’s the wrong question. You know who I am and I know who you are, and I’ve already told you, I’m not interested, so turn your rental around and get the hell out of here. No amount of money will change my mind.”

  “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else and if you wouldn’t mind, it’s been a heck of a day and I’d be rather pleased if you’d stop shouting at me.”

  He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth. “Really? You’d be rather pleased?” He mimicked a high-pitched feminine voice and crossed his arms. “You are a writer, yes?”

  She frowned. “Yes, how’d you know?”

  He sighed as if the last of his patience was gone and he was ready to do as he’d threatened in the bar and toss her out on her butt.

  “Lady, I’m tired of your games. I’m not doing the interview on Ray, or showing you his last works, so you can fuck off.”

  She frowned at his awful language but spoke as if she hadn’t heard it. “I’m not that kind of writer, Mr. Biker. I write for Charm & Adventure Magazine. And my boss already did a write-up on Tonalonka Camp five years ago.” Addi had no interest in writing anything about Uncle Ray except an obituary and eulogy.

  Her heart sank at the thought and once again she attempted to rub away the hurt with a fist to her sternum.

  “Did you just—” He paused and a smirk pulled the corners of his mouth upward. It changed his whole face at least what she could see of it not hidden by his sunglasses. “Did you just call me Mr. Biker?” His chuckle and sort-of smile unfortunately made him even more attractive.

  “Well, uh, yes, I guess I did.” She felt her cheeks flush. He leaned way back clutching his abs and laughed heartily.

  “Name’s Fitz,” he said in a lazy drawl. “Camp isn’t open right now.” His eyes fell on her luggage. She looked over her shoulder at her expensive bags, a gift from Daniel and Steven. “This isn’t your kind of place anyway, lady.”

  “I know it isn’t open,” she said, looking back at him, narrowing her eyes further. She wondered if she’d get wrinkles from holding the expression for too long, so she relaxed her face.

  “Ray just died,” she stated plainly. A queer feeling crawled in her chest at him examining her things again. Would he steal them? She suddenly became aware that they were very alone and far from civilization. Her breath quickened and then she regained her self-control. No, this was Uncle Ray’s boyfriend, wasn’t it?

  “Are you… uh… the man who lives here at the camp… with Ray?”

  “I live in the maintenance trailer here in the camp, yes. Who’re you?” His right brow arced above his glasses and he frowned again, this time looking puzzled. “Besides a Charm & Adventure Magazine writer.” His hand rose to shove back his gorgeous, although messy, dark hair.

  “I’m Ray’s niece.” That got Fitz’s attention. He straightened and stepped back, pulling open her door. His lean but well-conditioned torso made her stare again as he did. He even offered a hand as she climbed out, but Addi ignored it. She thought she might feel better standing, but the man still towered over her—it wasn’t some trick fear had played on her in the bar. He was big—huge even.

  She looked up. He looked down and plucked the hat from her head. There was an unreadable expression on his face, but it was one that made her gut flip and flutter. She swallowed hard. And then she saw it. He recognized her.

  “Addianna Moore.” She nodded. “Where’s your pigtail braids?” he asked, smoothing a palm over his bearded chin as he assessed her and then he snatched her sunglasses too. He chuckled. “Yep, that’s you. I’d recognize those brown eyes anywhere.”

  “Oh.” He must have seen pictures of her. Uncle Ray was always showing off the school pictures of her in his wallet. And pigtail braids was her hairstyle choice back then. “And you’re my uncle’s… er… friend?” She tilted her head as he leaned back onto the heels of his big black boots.

  “You could say that, but friend doesn’t really cut it,” he said and put his large paw out for her to shake, and it was a paw—a ginormous one like a grizzly bear’s. Addi looked at it too long, thinking he’d just further confirmed what she thought when the lawyer said ‘There’s a man living at the camp. He’s been with your uncle for years. They were very close,’ and he took it away, shoving it in his jeans pocket.

  Her eyes lingered on those jeans a moment—well-worn and snug, belted with a thick black strap of leather. His stomach was trim with a line of silky hair that ran beneath the belted jeans, making her eyes long to follow it.

  “Do you know what happened?” she asked with a tremor in her voice, suddenly looking back to his face. His mouth softened and he reached out for her. His warm hands wrapped around her upper arms and she swallowed hard, but didn’t stop him—couldn’t.

  “I found him.” He pulled her in for a hug and she ignored the awkwardness of his naked chest against her silk-covered one and allowed him to offer comfort. She hadn’t shed a tear. She was on a mission. Get to Uncle Ray’s, plan the funeral, and figure out what came next. But in his arms, warm and safe, she wanted to let go and feel, feel her loss while someone who shared it held her together.

  Fitz’s skin felt warm against hers. With only her blouse separating them, she not only felt his heat, but the beat of his heart.

  She pulled away, tucking back into the open door of the car, even though she’d like to have stayed there for another hour. She was tired and she knew her day was only beginning. He probably needed comfort too.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” She gathered a big breath.

  He looked taken aback by her condolence. “Uh, thanks… thank you. He was like a father to me.” He shuffled back, putting some more space between them.

  A father? Ray was like a father to his boyfriend, Fitz? Um…

  Suddenly, Addi couldn’t help it, call it a stress reaction, but a giggle burst out of her. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth and tried to hold it in, but nothing helped, especially when he looked so confused.

  “I’m sorry.” She bit back her smirk, attempting to co
ntrol her laughter. “It’s… it’s… the stress.” She swiped at the leaking water from her eyes.

  His brow wrinkled and his hands found his hips. “Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

  She shook her head, trying to control herself.

  “Besides being Ray’s friend, I’m the caretaker here and I was in the middle of purchasing the place.”

  All the humor evaporated instantly and her jaw slackened at his words. Purchasing the place? Her uncle was selling his beloved camp? He would never!

  Oh, hell no!

  “There’s no way in hell,” she said, stepping away from the safety of the car and slamming the door while closing the gap between them. His set jaw was no deterrence as she advanced on him. She poked a short French-manicured fingertip into his hard, bare chest.

  “What are you trying to pull, you swindling scoundrel biker bully? My uncle would never sell this place—not even to his friend. It was his whole life and just so you know I’m not some long-lost niece, buster! I talked to my uncle almost every day and Skyped with him weekly! And just because I didn’t know you lived here doesn’t mean anything.” She took a moment to breathe and calm herself. Her face flamed with anger. “He would have told me if he was selling the place.”

  Fitz’s face turned down at the spot on his chest where she poked and he frowned. She had overreacted. She hugged her arms around her middle and looked away. God, she was exhausted and not acting like herself at all. She had just poked a very large biker in the very bare chest.

  “Uncle Ray would have told me,” she repeated, quieter, almost contrite. Was this what his letter was about? “He built this place for his deceased wife and son. It meant everything to him.”

  “First off, he didn’t want you to know because he knew you’d want to come to his rescue. He’s broke—he was broke. And second, little girl, you ever poke me again and I’ll show you what a scoundrel I can be.” His mitt-like hands came off his hips and he crossed his thick tattooed arms.

  “Broke? No way! Do you know how much his paintings go for? Hundreds of thousands! There’s no way he was broke. And don’t you threaten me,” she retorted, her temper flaring again.

  “Yeah, well, he liked giving his money away. And it wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.” His fingers pressed deeper into the skin of his bicep.

  “Not to his detriment, you caveman!”

  A smirk twitched behind his facial hair and she clenched her fists, a growl escaping.

  “It’s no joke!”

  “I’m no caveman, baby girl. I believe in women’s rights and equality.” His voice was rich, raspy, and tinged with sexy innuendo and then just as suddenly as it came, it left and the amusement fell from his face. “However, I have no qualms about putting a deserving little girl over my knee if she can’t keep her damn hands to herself and her temper in check. And that’s what you’re acting like, aren’t you, babe?”

  “We’ll just save the rest of this money conversation for the lawyer,” she snapped in hopes of ending the fight she was too tired to continue. Besides, she felt heat creep down her body to inflame her core as she realized what he’d just said. “Did you just threaten to spank me?”

  “Nope.” He uncrossed his arms and positioned them back on his hips. “Again, it was a promise. And just so you don’t get your panties in a twist, the sale became void as soon as Ray died. He hadn’t gotten around to signing the papers.” They faced off for a long pause before he shook his head and opened the back door of her car. She watched in shock as he reached in to grab her bags.

  “Come on. Let’s get you settled and then I’ll take you to the funeral home. I only came home to feed Ray’s fish. I don’t feel much like being here today. As taciturn as Ray was, this place is too quiet and empty without him.”

  Carrying her bags, he strode off on his long legs, leaving her to scramble after him. Taciturn? Who used the word taciturn in regular conversation? She decided to leave the hot topic of him buying the camp and spanking her for the moment until she’d seen to Uncle Ray’s arrangements, had some food and some much-needed sleep. Then she’d be capable of shredding him without losing her cool.

  Tomorrow that biker was in for it. She huffed and then hauled ass to catch up to him. Did he say fish?

  “Uncle Ray has a fish? Like a goldfish?”

  He shot a smirk over his broad shoulder at her. “It’s no goldfish, baby girl.”

  When he called her that, her belly squirmed. No one had ever called her that. Not even just baby. She’d had a few ‘babes.’ Hey, babe, wanna go for a drink? Hey, babe, you mind? You’re blocking the game. Hey, babe, can I give you a ride? But they didn’t count.

  “I can take that,” she said, reaching for her suitcase. He only quirked that damn eyebrow at her again, making her gut flip.

  “Even a scoundrel like me wouldn’t let a lady carry her own bags.” He left her behind to head down the path to Uncle Ray’s cabin. She didn’t try to catch up then. Her heels were sinking into the soft moist pine bed and if she moved any faster she’d probably break an ankle.

  “What the hell are in these anyway? Bricks?”

  Yeah, for the wall I’m going to build to keep you away from this camp.

  “I was supposed to be heading to a posh B&B in cottage country. I just grabbed my already packed suitcases and went straight to the airport.”

  He made a huffing sound—she thought it may have been the start of a chuckle, but she wasn’t sure.

  “Bikinis don’t weigh this much.”

  Now she huffed. “It was a business trip.” She rolled her eyes. “I was doing an article for the magazine and I don’t wear bikinis.”

  He glared down at her, now at his side. His face moved slowly as he clearly examined her body, leaving a sizzling path of heat.

  “Why not?” he asked his expression seriously perplexed. Was he blind? Were those mirrored sunglasses he wore distorting his sight?

  “Because girls with my figure shouldn’t,” she stated plainly and looked away.

  “Why the hell not?” He sounded offended.

  “Because I’m thick.”

  “Thick? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Solid.”

  “Solid?”

  She sighed. “I’m fat!”

  He stopped at that and set her bags down, grabbing her upper arm again, this time to spin her, stopping when she’d gone full circle and faced him again.

  “Christ!” He pressed his mouth sternly. “Says who? Who the hell would call you fat? Those curves should have warning labels, they’re so dangerously enticing. Only an asshole looking for a plastic doll would call you thick, solid, or fat. You’re goddamned perfect!” Oddly, even though his words were complimentary, he sounded angry—as if her looks pissed him off.

  She crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look to hide her insecurity. His mouth only firmed further and she found her gaze dropping to her coral high heels uncomfortably.

  “Fuck the bikini, you should skinny dip anyway.” He released her, sounding even more irritated and picked up the suitcases again. He made it five big strides before Addi started following. How the hell had they just had that conversation?

  And why had his words left her both flustered and overheated in places that shouldn’t be in her current situation? Or at all, since he was a biker and they were dangerous and she didn’t do dangerous. And why the hell was he so aggravated with her?

  Uncle Ray’s cabin was in great shape—not like the other cabins. His was freshly painted and even had a new covered porch on the front. She liked the rocking chair sitting on it, but it made her laugh. Uncle Ray was not a rocking chair type even if he was seventy-two. She looked at Fitz and smirked.

  “What’s so funny?” Fitz asked as he set her bags down to open the door.

  “Just the rocker,” she said. He grinned crookedly a moment before he entered the cabin.

  “What?” She hurried up the porch after him.

  “Nothing,” he repl
ied from inside, scratching at his beard. “Just a gift I gave him that had him chasing me clear across the camp with a pellet gun aimed at my ass.” She bit her lip to hold back her laughter at the image of her small uncle chasing the very big man in front of her and picked up her bags to bring them inside.

  “Oh, no. You’re staying in your cabin. We’re just at Ray’s to feed his fish.” He pushed his glasses up onto his head when he got inside, and even with the low light she saw he gave her a look that said, ‘don’t argue’ and yet it made her want to, twice as hard.

  “What do you mean my cabin?” How the hell did he know about her cabin?

  She looked around the inside. She had been fooled by the outside. Inside, it was run down and creaky and even smelled a little like mildew. Fitz was testing the floor with his large booted foot in a spot where it looked to be sinking.

  “The yellow one with the clematis. It’s yours,” he said, not looking up from his task.

  “Oh, I forgot all about that thing,” she lied. It was where she had really bonded with Uncle Ray early that summer. Fitz shot her a look that told her he knew she was full of shit, but she only continued looking around Uncle Ray’s cabin.

  “What are you doing to the floor?”

  “Checking it. The roof was leaking and Ray wouldn’t let me in to check for water damage after I fixed it.”

  “Oh.”

  There were two bedrooms: Uncle Ray’s and a guest room with a bathroom between them. Besides that, there was a kitchen area with a scarred two-person table open to the living area with an old checkered brown sofa and threadbare chair and an ancient, but not antique, coffee table. The only luxurious thing about Uncle Ray’s cabin was the massive rock fireplace—oh, and… Holy crap, an enormous almost wall-sized fish tank.

  Both were meant for a fancy million-dollar cottage in the Muskokas, not some camp cabin and certainly not one that looked as run down as Uncle Ray’s on the inside. By the look of the floor, that tank and the huge fish in it were living on borrowed time.

  Fitz scooped some smaller fish from a bucket on a table and dumped them into the tank. The big fish stilled a moment, flicked its tail in a sharp movement, darted, and gulped all but one.