Leather Jackets: The Men of Marionville, #6

By KC Kendricks

Wynn DeRocher's talent and ambition catapulted his band to the top of the charts, but he paid a steep price to achieve success. He needs a flesh and blood man, one who understands the demands of his music. He needs the man he let get away - Jude Thatcher.

Wynn pitches a proposal to Jude - a lucrative job modeling the band's new line of signature logo'd clothing. Jude accepts but both men know it'll take more than fancy dinners and limo rides to convince him to risk his heart again.

To covet might be a sin, but Jude needs a gesture of good faith. And he wants Wynn's leather jacket as much as he wants Wynn. Almost.

* * * * *

Wynn held the hip-length coat for me as I slipped my arms into the sleeves, then he let the weight of it come to rest on my shoulders. The jacket was light, but incredibly warm. I flipped open the left side to check the lining.

"Don't bother. You'd have to cut the cloth to see what the insulating layer is."

I stretched my arms out in front of my chest. The jacket moved with me, giving just enough to remain comfortable.

"This is a nice jacket. I see why you liked. Does he make bombers?"

Wynn reached in the closet and pulled out a black bomber complete with silver studs and chains. He caressed a front panel. "This is so you, Jude. Take it."

For a moment, I was tempted. "I can't accept this. It's hand-stitched so I'm sure it was expensive."

"Nine large. But take it. Call it a signing bonus."

"Wynn, I don't know the first thing about modeling. You need a professional, or better yet, model this yourself. Your fans will go wild."

His fingers trailed down my leather-clad arm until they found mine. He hesitated, then stroked his thumb over my knuckles. His voice was so low I had to strain to hear it.

"I knew you were here, Jude. I came back to Marionville to find you."

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Deer Enterprises/White Deer Books
• Release date: Apr 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533707611

KC Kendricks

KC Kendricks calls herself an accidental writer. After completing her first novel writing as Rayne Forrest, she was urged to submit it to a publisher, and everything snowballed from there. Today, the author has had over seventy books published. In July of 2021, she tried to retire but her employer offered her a deal to work at home. She accepted. Now she balances work, writing, and hearth and home in a controlled chaos. A native of scenic western Maryland, the author enjoys most activities that don’t include snow. In warm weather she might be found walking the dog, biking on the C&O Canal towpath, planting delicacies in her garden for the deer to munch on at night, playing in the creek, or lazing on the patio with her Kindle reader or laptop. She recently began to research her family history and can't drive past a cemetery without stopping to search for family sites. Her mission is to photograph old tombstones before the elements erode the stones and the names are lost to time. For more about KC Kendricks and Rayne Forrest’s writing life, please visit the Between the Keys blog at http:kckendricks.blogspot.com . If you’d like to know more about the author’s country lifestyle and her daily activities full of simple country pleasures (and a lot of work), please visit the Holly Tree Manor blog at http://hollytreemanor.blogspot.com . KC can be reached through her blog, Between the Keys. All comments are strictly moderated by the author and personal messages are treated as such. Follow the author on Twitter for up-to-date announcements at Twitter.com/KCKendricks.

Book preview

About Leather Jackets

Jude Thatcher needs a life fix. He walked away from a serious love affair, lost the job he worked years to get, and his severance pay is dwindling. A little dancing is in order to help clear his head, so Jude takes a stroll to the local nightclub and gets a surprise.

Wynn DeRocher’s talent and ambition catapulted his band to the top of the charts, but he paid a steep price to achieve success. He needs a flesh and blood man, one who understands the demands of his music. He needs the man he let get away - Jude Thatcher.

Wynn pitches a proposal - a lucrative job modeling the band’s new line of logo’d clothing. Jude accepts but both men know it’ll take more than fancy dinners and limo rides to convince Jude to risk his heart again.

To covet might be a sin, but Jude needs a gesture of good faith. And he wants Wynn’s leather jacket as much as he wants Wynn. Almost.

What they said about Leather Jackets

Leather Jackets is enjoyable...KC Kendricks has created an interesting saga – Literary Nymphs Reviews

This one is special. – 5 Stars from Amazon reader

Praise for the writing of KC Kendricks

KC Kendricks never disappoints!"—Fallen Angel Reviews

..beautifully moving in all the right places...KC Kendricks gives us a well-crafted tale- The Romance Studio

Good to the last word....- Sensual Reads

...Seriously entertaining and totally engaging...- Joyfully Reviewed

...solidly written contemporary romance...-Jessewave

The Men of Marionville Series

A Hard Habit to Break

Open Roads

What You Don’t Confess

Your Whisper in the Dark

A Cat Named Hercules

Leather Jackets

Station to Station

Dreams to Sell

The Right Brew

Where There’s Smoke

Bourbon and Blues

Twice Removed From Yesterday

To RC, who knows leather, pearls, and kitchen faucets—

and which of them isn’t an acceptable Christmas gift.

Leather Jackets

About Leather Jackets

What they said about Leather Jackets

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

EPILOGUE

A bonus read from Station to Station

About the Author

Books by KC Kendricks

Dear Readers,

CHAPTER 1

I love to dance, and in this town, the in place for a guy to shake his booty and have fun is Frolic. Even the A-list gays hit Frolic on Friday nights to shrug off the workweek and unwind.

Seventeen years ago, when I left Marionville for the bright lights of Morgantown, West Virginia, I had a plan. With a few chemistry scholarships and a promise of support from my doting Grandpa, I was going to help change the world through research. West Virginia University had a good four-year program with an outstanding job placement record for lab technicians.

I learned fast that being a lab rat wasn’t the dream job I thought it would be, and Marionville wasn’t so bad after all. I’d fucked up, big time, and home became a refuge, not a prison. And being that I was currently a free man on a Friday night, I wanted to dance.

I sauntered across the street and took my place at the end of the long line of men waiting—hoping—to be lucky enough to make it inside the club. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’d never seen this many gays in one place since...well, never in Marionville. I introduced myself to the twenty-ish young man in line in front of me.

’Evening. What’s going on that has everyone standing in line? I’m Jude, by the way.

He held out his slender hand as his gaze swept me from head to toe and back up again. I’ll be anyone you want me to be, Jude. I’m a pushover for a man with such pretty gray eyes. You really don’t know?

I shook his hand, then held on to it, tucking it into the crook of my elbow. If I didn’t flirt a little bit, I wouldn’t get an answer from him. I knew how to play the game. Nope. I’m totally clueless.

Honey, I doubt that very much. I’m Teddy.

Nice to meet you, Teddy. I meant that with all sincerity. The kid had a peaceful, refined aura about him.

Are you new in town, Jude?

No. I grew up here. I decided it was time to stop living on the edge and come home.

Had some trouble, did you?

I blew out a deep breath. You could say that. So what’s all the hubbub about?

DeRocher is playing a set tonight.

His words hit my gut like fist. Why hadn’t I known this? I stared at him.

Wynn DeRocher is here? Inside? Tonight? I stared hopelessly at the long line of men in front of me. I had to get inside and see him. I had to make sure this wasn’t my imagination. Teddy rubbed my back.

You look a little pale, hon.

I patted his hand as I reclaimed my arm.

Teddy, hold my spot. I gotta make a call. I didn’t wait for him to answer. I stepped away from the snaking line of guys, moving far enough for privacy’s sake. I scrolled through my contacts list and hit the call button. A familiar voice answered.

James. This is Jude Thatcher. Listen, man, I need to get in the club.

Hello and fuck you, too, you little asshole. I heard you were back in town, but you didn’t call, you didn’t write, and now you want a favor. Well, just come on up to the door. I’ll kick that thing you call an ass later.

Typical James, the same as I remembered. Only now my old high school buddy owned Frolic. And, of course, he was right. I owed him a phone call and a drink.

Can I bring...

"One, Jude. One."

The connection broke before I could thank him, but I didn't care. Surely he had his hands full inside. I walked back to the line and grabbed Teddy’s hand. C’mon. I begged a favor.

Teddy sputtered a bit as I hauled him along behind me, but he came. I got to the sidewalk in front of the door in time to see a messenger hand a slip of paper to the burly gatekeeper. I hoped it said to let me in, not kick my ass into next week. I took the steps two at a time with Teddy, who now had a good idea of what was happening, hot on my heels. I told Mr. Burly my name.

Jude Thatcher and guest.

The door opened wide enough for Teddy and me to squeeze through. The guys in line howled in protest, but the Burleys guarding the door ignored them as they applied an ink stamp to both our hands. My companion hugged me as we stood in the spacious foyer.

Thanks, Jude. Now, I have to abandon you for a bit, but I’ll find you later and claim a dance. I promise.

I kissed his cheek. You can have two dances.

He smiled and ducked through the archway to the stairs that led up to The Tea Room. He did have a cute little rump, but I had bigger and more pressing matters to attend to. I needed to locate Wynn DeRocher and allow him to stab me in the heart again, metaphorically speaking.

Although the dull ache in my chest was real enough.

If the noise coming from the Cancun Bar was any indication, Wynn was downstairs. I peeked through the glass into the dance hall. It was hard to get a good look past the throng of guys inside, but I knew the large black spot at the far end had to be the DeRocher stage, shrouded by black curtains. Looking down the stairs into the Cancun Bar, I decided the best way to get closer to the action was to go up through The Tea Room and then down the spiral staircase. A convoluted route to be sure, but it would give me a better view from the higher angle.

I made my way up the stairs, across the long room, and down. Apparently, I wasn’t the only fellow to figure out the good vantage point. The stairs were somewhat crowded, but everyone very kindly allowed me to pass until I stepped down beside Teddy.

You could’ve told me you were headed here.

He smiled at me. I knew you’d be able to track me down.

I raised one eyebrow, and he laughed as he slipped an arm around my waist. I sensed he wasn’t really coming on to me. He was merely a touchy-feely sort of guy, one who was friendly, out-going,