Nate: Grim Riders MC Series, #6

By Molly Black

I knew that Nate wasn't the kind of guy that I should be with. 

Tattoos and a motorcycle, plus from his own admission he was part of a local MC. 

But it's not like I was looking for love, so where was the harm in sleeping with him? 

Now, I just have to figure out how to keep that one night from leading to more. 

The only trouble is that suddenly I find myself wanting more. 

But he'll be headed back home to California soon, I'm sure…

• Language: English
• Publisher: MB
• Release date: Aug 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393511557

Book preview

Chapter 1

Nate

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Iturned my face up toward the sky, reveling in the feeling of warmth on my skin. It had been rainy for the past three days, a relatively usual occurrence now that we were getting back into the wet November weather in San Diego. Can you believe that people choose to live in places where the weather is shitty all the time? I asked my brother, Devon.

He snorted. Idiots. He grinned over at me, and I grinned right back. Both of us were Southern California born and bred, and probably going to live here for the rest of our lives, barring natural disasters flooding the whole coast or some shit like that. The weather was good, the girls were hot, the living was easy, and there was nothing else I needed in my life.

Hey, let’s stop and grab some Zee’s on the way to the job, Devon said suddenly, sitting up a little straighter in his seat as Zee’s Taco Stand came into view.

I’m down. I whipped my car over into a parking spot near the boardwalk. It was a mark of the change in the seasons that I could find a parking spot on a Thursday afternoon. Despite the sunshine here, the rest of the country was getting ready to hunker down for winter, thinking ahead to ski retreats rather than beach vacations. At least until Christmas.

We wandered over to the stand and put our orders in, waiting around while everything was prepared fresh in front of us.

So remind me again who this client is? Devon asked while we waited.

I glanced around to make sure that no one was in eavesdropping range and then shrugged one shoulder. It’s that guy, Paulie Wengen. Remember, he had us tied up in protecting him for, like, a solid month? Can’t remember what it is he was worried about, but he sure kept our guys close.

Probably murdered someone, Devon muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Might’ve, I agreed. Doesn’t matter either way. Our job is just to get the money he owes us.

Sure, Devon said. Just wondering how much trouble he’s likely to give us.

Shouldn’t be too bad, I said, snorting. I distinctly remember when we vetted him. Guy has loads of money to blow on private security and whatever the hell else floats his boat.

Yeah, but the guys who have the money are sometimes the stingiest, Devon complained, shaking his head.

True. I sighed. But let’s hope he doesn’t give us too much trouble. Remember, we’re under strict orders to not rough this guy up.

Yeah, yeah, Devon said, rolling his eyes. I remember.

That said, we’re getting what he owes us, no matter what, I added, flashing my teeth in a sharp grin, and Devon chortled.

I stared out over the waves, watching a couple of novice surfers. Hey, we should plan a surf trip soon, I said suddenly. It’s been a while.

Didn’t know your new board had come in, Devon said in surprise.

I grimaced. It hasn’t, I told him. But I’ve got the old one still. Wouldn’t mind taking it out for a spin.

Yeah, sure, Devon said, nodding. Well, I’m down whenever. This is the last thing we’ve got on our plates for the week, isn’t it?

Think so, I said. Although who knows. Could always get some new assignments.

Let’s hope not, Devon said.

Amen, I muttered. This shit has felt enough like a job-job lately without pulling overtime hours as well.

Devon laughed and shook his head, but our food came out then, and we both turned our attention away from conversation and toward devouring our tacos.

I kept thinking about what I had just said, though. Things had been busy for the San Diego chapter of the Grim Riders motorcycle club lately. It felt like we were all pulling double duty, and it was starting to drive me crazy. If I wanted a full-time job, I would have gotten a job at an office or something.

Well, maybe not. I wasn’t exactly office-job material. Far from it, in fact. There was a reason I had started working for the MC right after high school, and there was a reason I would probably work for them until the day I died. Or at least until the day I finally got on the wrong side of the law and landed myself in jail.

Compared to a lot of other motorcycle clubs, the stuff the Grim Riders did was pretty tame. Definitely not the kind of jobs you would see in the movies. Sure, sometimes we might cover up a murder. Sometimes we might even murder a guy who was going after one of our clients. But for the most part, we just acted as a sort of security force for guys who for whatever reason couldn’t go to the police about the threats of violence against them.

Devon and I were both taller and broader guys. Devon, in particular, was built like a truck, one hundred percent solid and intimidating in his wrath. But we weren’t even the guys to do the protecting. No, we were collectors; once the job was done, we went and got the money for the club’s work. Sometimes, we had to get a little physical with our clients to get them to pay up, especially on the jobs when the clients were just being paranoid. A lot easier to get someone to pay for having us save their lives rather than getting them to pay for nothing but surveillance.

But either way, we performed a service, and they needed to pay.

With this guy, Paulie, our orders from the club president were not to fuck him up. Frequently, that meant that we might see more business from the guy in the future. Don’t rough the guy up too bad, or he might not come back next time.

But me, I didn’t think that was a good way to do business. If Paulie tried to short us this time and we didn’t rough him up, it would set a precedent for the next time. We didn’t need business like that.

We finished up our lunch, crumpling up our paper wrappers and throwing them in the trash and then heading back to the car. Paulie answered the door not long after we got to his house. The place was huge, and for a moment, I imagined myself living in a place like this. I had enough money, and I’d been looking to upgrade to a nicer pad for a while now. But I couldn’t find the perfect place.

And this one wasn’t it either, I decided. Too formal and white. Plain. Really, all the ones in the area were like that. Oh well.

Hey, guys, Paulie said, nodding at us. Come on in. I’ve got your money right here.

We both stepped inside, and Paulie grabbed an envelope, handing it over. Devon counted the money first, then handed the envelope over to me. That meant that the guy had underpaid us. Of course, I trusted Devon to have counted it correctly, but it was always better to make sure, especially with a payment this large.

I pursed my lips as I came to the end of the bills, though, looking up at Paulie and raising an eyebrow. You’re a thousand short, I told him.

Paulie frowned. Am I? he asked, pulling out his wallet and looking inside. An honest mistake.

I bristled, knowing that there was no way he had made a mistake. The guy wasn’t stupid. And it wasn’t like he had missed one or two bills. A full thousand was hard to make a mistake about. We don’t tolerate mistakes, I said, slipping the envelope into my pocket and cracking my knuckles. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Devon shoot me a look, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

I wasn’t going to rough the guy up a lot. Just enough to make sure he knew that this had better never happen in the future. If he wanted to employ the Grim Riders, he’d damned well better pay us the agreed-upon amount. Without making us ask for it every time.

I used a few quick punches to lay Paulie out on the floor. Then, I kicked him hard in the stomach while he was down. Carefully, I bent over to pluck his wallet from where it had fallen, pulling out the thousand dollars and a little extra cash as well. Interest, if you will.

The fact that Paulie had a full thousand dollars of extra cash in his wallet only confirmed my suspicions. He had been ready to pay the total amount he owed us if we asked for it. He’d just been hoping that he wouldn’t have to. Fucking weasel.

Come on, Dev, I said to my brother. Let’s get out of here.

Devon followed me outside and wordlessly got into the car. I glanced over at him as we drove, knowing that his disapproving silence stemmed from the fact that I wasn’t supposed to rough the guy up like that. But at the moment, I didn’t give a damn. I was fuming, honestly wishing that I had roughed Paulie up even worse.

We drove straight back to the clubhouse with the payment. Dirk was waiting in his office for us and called us in as soon as we knocked. How did things go? he asked as I set the envelope on his desk. He counted out the money slowly, raising an eyebrow as he counted the extra bills.

Devon glanced over at me, and I rolled my eyes, knowing he would tell Dirk everything. There was something to be said for sibling loyalty, but Devon sucked at lying, especially to the club president.

There was a bit of an altercation, but the money’s all there, he said.

And then some, Dirk said, frowning. What kind of an altercation?

I just roughed him up a little, I snapped. Bastard wanted to short us a grand.

Dirk scowled. I told you that this guy wasn’t to be roughed up! he exploded.

Yeah, well, what kind of business lets a guy get away with screwing them over? I asked, the words dripping with disdain.

Dirk narrowed his eyes at me. Paulie Wengen is a very high-value client, he reminded me. And he’s got connections outside of just our club. We don’t know what he might do if he’s pissed off at the two of you.

I rolled my eyes again. I doubt he’d bother coming after us, I said. It’s not like I put him in the hospital or anything.

You need to get out of town, Dirk said, shaking his head. I won’t have this coming down on the club.

It won’t, I gritted out. I knew that Dirk didn’t like me all that much; he and I often clashed over the best way to handle club business. Dirk was just too conservative most of the time. Drove me nuts. But still, he hadn’t been there. He didn’t know how little damage I had done to Paulie, and he had no idea if the other guy would retaliate or not.

I sincerely doubted Paulie would. Why bother? It wasn’t like I had roughed him up in public or anything, where his pride might be hurt. This was just a private matter. I’d probably never even see the guy again.

I’m not asking, Dirk said, getting to his feet. You don’t have a choice anymore, Grimes. I’m sick of your attitude and the way you choose to represent this club. You’re getting the hell out of town if I have to drive you to the airport myself.

Chapter 2

Holly

I STARED DOWN AT THE checklist in my hand, trying to decipher what I had written halfway down the column. It was a list of fruits I needed to order for the fruit stand for the next week, so it should be reasonably easy to figure out what it was. After all, how many fruits started with an f? But whatever it was, I couldn’t figure it out.

I needed to take more time while I was writing out my lists, or maybe start typing them up on my phone. But the little scraps of paper were easy to carry around in my pocket while I was working, and I didn’t have any extra time when the stand got busy. And if I waited for business levels to die down, I would forget whatever it was I had needed to jot down.

I glanced up as Marie arrived. You’re late, I called out.

I know, I know, Marie said, sounding flustered. She brushed back a few flyaway strands that had escaped her braid. "I was helping an old lady cross the street, and the light took forever. And then I would normally have just jaywalked on the way back across, but there was a police officer sitting there, and you know I don’t need another silly citation."

I snorted, but I knew Marie wasn’t lying about any of that. Being late for work because she was helping an elderly woman across the street? That was just the kind of thing that Marie would do without even thinking about it.

It’s like you think that doing good around the world makes up for the fact that you’re late every day, I teased. Where’s your loyalty to me, your friend?

Marie laughed. "I really tried today, okay? I left the house so much earlier than usual. Well, ten minutes earlier than usual. Or I guess it was more like five because I had to go back and grab a different jacket. It is chilly outside today."

Well, it is November in Massachusetts, I reminded her. I glanced toward the window. Another gray day. I sighed. I can’t wait until it starts snowing.

Marie grinned. You know, for someone who loves working in the garden all summer, you’re surprisingly enthusiastic about winter every year.

I shrugged. No reason I can’t love both, I said. Warm sweaters, reading by the woodstove, snow, mulled wine. What’s not to love?

Slipping down the ice rink that is my driveway every morning? Marie suggested, and I had to laugh.

Fair enough, I said. "Hey, do you have any idea what this could say? It’s some fruit starting with an f."

Marie came over to look over her shoulder, shaking her head at me. "That’s not an f; it’s a c. Cantaloupe."

Oh! I said. "You’re so right. Mrs. Collins asked if we could order some cantaloupe special for her. Can’t imagine what makes a person want melons ordered special when we’re getting into winter, but she’s one of our good customers, so I wasn’t about to argue with