Bronco: EEMC, #1

By Bijou Hunter

HEAT ღ HUMOR ღ HEA

 

One tempting moment between two strangers changes everything.

 

Maude Leroux wasn't looking for romance when she met the sexy out-of-town biker. Lust clouded her judgment. Then the man was gone from her life as quickly as he appeared. Nine months later, the time has come to contact him over what their one night of passion created.

 

Bronco Parrish is the president of the Elko Executioners Motorcycle Club. He has a love-hate relationship with the town of Shasta. Nine months ago, he met a woman he hasn't been able to get out of his mind since. Now she's back with his baby and more than a little baggage. Fortunately, Bronco's always suffered a weakness for troubled women.

 

Bronco is the first book in the Elko Executioners Motorcycle Club (EEMC) series and contains graphic sexual content, violent situations, harsh language, and drug use. The book is only appropriate for adult readers age 18+. Trigger warning topics: past abuse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bijou Hunter
• Release date: Aug 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9798224908271

Bijou Hunter

Romance Author of Contemporary, Suspense, and New Adult ~ Find me at www.bijouhunterbooks.com ~ Join my mailing list: www.bijouhunterbooks.com/mailing-list

Book preview

BRONCO

EEMC #1

BIJOU HUNTER

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Copyright © 2020 Bijou Hunter

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmosphere purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

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Cover

Photographer: K Jolak

Source: Depositphotos

Cover Copyright © 2020 Bijou Hunter

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Dedication

To SaMiJaMaLu

My lovely betas—Sarah, Debbie, Cynthia, Carina, and Sheri

&

Judy’s Proofreading

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART 1: WELL, HELLO THERE

BRONCO PARRISH

MAUDE LANA LEROUX

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

PART 2: WELCOME TO ELKO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

PART 3: SHASTA HAS HER SAY

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

PART 4: ELKO SECOND CHANCE

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

PART 5: FIVE FUCKING DAYS

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

PART 6: HOME SWEET HOME

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

PART 7: ELKO PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

LANA

BRONCO

PART 8: SO LONG AND FAREWELL

LANA

BRONCO

PART 9: WELL, THAT HAPPENED

BRONCO

PART 10: EPILOGUES

LANA

BRONCO

TITAN SNEAK PEEK

BIJOU READING ORDER

ABOUT BIJOU

PART 1: WELL, HELLO THERE

BRONCO PARRISH

Before the Executioners took over Elko, the town was run by the Marks family for going on three generations. Freddy was a mean sonovabitch. His son Tod was a weak moron. By the time I came along, the family was mostly run by three siblings—John, Steph, and Craig, who were soft, lazy, and stupid. Everything was handed to them by their daddy, just as he inherited it all from his father. They earned nothing in their entire lives.

I didn’t even inherit my father’s name. Ernie Fleck bullied his longtime common law wife into giving their three kids her maiden name. The Parrish family was trash going back generations, and Ernie believed the name suited his children.

Back then, I suffered from a hunger nothing could satisfy. Young and pissed at the world, I wanted to burn it down. Without that as an option, I decided to make a part of it bow to me. A lot of men suffer the same hunger, but they rarely feed it.

I did, though. With a five-man team, I violently stole Elko. For a time in town, funerals became common. None of my guys ended up in the ground back then.

Drugs and weapons run easily through this Ohio town, just off a major highway through the state. The Marks got rich doing nearly nothing. I’ve made more money by bleeding and killing to stake my claim. I’ll never hand the town over to anyone who doesn’t wear an Elko Executioners’ patch.

These days, I often think about nineteen-year-old me. Mean and stupid, I had nothing to lose. That made me powerful. No longer as dumb or cruel, I have a lot to lose. My greatest fear is someone like nineteen-year-old me coming along and stealing what I stole from the Marks.

Maybe that’s why I agreed to drive down to Shasta, Kentucky, to meet with the local motorcycle club’s president. When his girl Friday—Shelby Campbell—called our trucking company’s office, she refused to explain to Barbie why I ought to ride down. If anyone could wrangle info out of a person, it was my older sister. But Barbie only ended up in a screaming match with the Shasta woman. As much fun as watching my sister threaten people could be, I stepped in and agreed to the visit. Better to be cordial rather than have Barbie drive to Shasta herself and get in a catfight with Campbell.

This feels like a mistake, said my VP that day.

Lowell says the same thing as we get ready to ride down to Shasta. He was one of the five men to help me turn Elko’s streets red. But we’re no longer young men.

Back when I killed my way into ownership of this part of Ohio, I never imagined a future where I wouldn’t love standing at the top. Young and sporting a chip on my shoulder and not a gray hair in sight, I thought I had shit figured out. Life was more manageable when I had nothing to lose. Hasn’t been as easy in a long fucking time.

That’s why I don’t complain about the trip down to Kentucky. I’m ready to put my daily problems behind me and enjoy a ride on my hog.

The president of the Reapers Motorcycle Club in Shasta isn’t my buddy. I don’t share beers with him or talk sports. We’ve met a handful of times since he took over the town, always about business. Last summer, I came to Shasta to discuss the uptick in federal interest in both our clubs. We met at a family chicken place. I think River Majors wanted to freak out the locals in the nearby town with the sight of a dozen bikers showing up at once. The guy loves to play his games.

Nothing much came out of that meeting. I suspect he was feeling me up again. River Majors is quite the fucking flirt.

This latest invitation feels different. Shelby Campbell insisted I meet at their blue grandma mansion in the nice part of Shasta. This sure seems like an ambush situation.

They’re going to kill you and come up here and take over Elko, Barbie growled in her cigarette-roughened voice this morning. I bet they’ve already bought off a few locals. The Reapers preparing for war.

My sister’s gift is paranoia. She assumes everyone is out to get us at all times. I sometimes worry about that habit of hers. Paranoia is what killed our mother. The last thing I want is for the same shit to infect Barbie. If crazy is hereditary, there’s no dodging it, though.

That’s probably the biggest reason why I agreed to meet River at his house. Declining will feed Barbie’s paranoia. If I go to Shasta and survive, I hope she’ll back away from the fevered pitch of batshit insanity she’s been leaning toward lately.

Shasta is a raunchy little town that stinks of death from the nearby rendering plant. For decades, I’ve wanted control of this town. That dream died when the Reapers bulldozed over the former club that ran Shasta.

River Majors is a second-generation tough guy. His dad owns a solid reputation for making people disappear. Long-haired and blond, River comes off as a dumb hippie, but it’s a con. Just like how he and his friends live in this grandma house in the fancy part of town. They put on a show to throw off people’s perceptions.

After a two-hour ride, I pull my hog down the property’s long driveway, followed by Lowell and the Executioners’ Sergeant at Arms, Anders. On the old-fashioned house’s front porch, River stops swaying on a swing and stands at the sight of us. I don’t get off my ride immediately. Instead, I scan the area for threats. This neighborhood is pretty fucking posh for a small town. However, it’s no Woodlands at Dry Creek—the gated community my club calls home.

The blond, pretty boy club president doesn’t strut his ass over to meet us. Instead, he waits for me to climb off my hog and walk to him. Behind me, Lowell and Anders keep watch.

Are you done with the secrets, Majors? I ask when River chooses to wear his fake-friendly, hippie face.

I need you to come inside to talk, he says before leaning to the side to add for my men’s benefit, Alone.

Why? I ask, dubious of this entire fucking thing.

Look, man, if I wanted to kill you, I’d strap on my rifle and drive to Elko. Then I’d get comfy somewhere near your favorite hot spots and wait for a chance to put a bullet in your head. Easy-fucking-peasy. What I wouldn’t do is have you come to my house and murder you with my wife and kid down the hall.

No, I suspect you wouldn’t, I say and glance back at my VP. Lowell scratches at his tidy black beard and nods as if he’s good. Next to him, Anders uses all the self-control in his seven-foot-tall body not to jump on River. Relax, I tell the giant.

Following the younger man inside his grandma house, I’m struck by the sweet scent of cooking from the kitchen. I recall how River’s woman owns a restaurant. Whatever she’s baking makes my stomach growl. I really should have eaten before the ride, but I got distracted by my youngest daughter’s dramatics. Sidonie’s getting as paranoid as her aunt.

River opens up the double doors to another overly fussy room. I’m ready to ask him what the fuck this is about until I see Lana Lee sitting in a chair. Her expression tells half the story while the baby she holds explains the other part.

Last summer, during my visit to Shasta, I stopped by a nearby strip club. I don’t know what came over me when I saw Lana. The sexy blonde sucked the air out of that strip club. The other girls bounced and giggled and made duck faces. Lana existed in a bubble, untouchable. I hadn’t met a woman that gorgeous—or obviously trouble—in a long time.

I’m a sucker for bad women. Always have been. That’s why I chatted up the stripper despite knowing her interest was likely more focused on stealing my wallet than my heart. Lana smiled so easily for me that I forgot who I was and what she was. We ended up in the back seat of her car.

Now, ten months later, she’s holding a bouncing baby girl and clearly IDing me as the daddy. It’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation.

This is my sister-in-law, Maude, River says, and I instantly wonder if her flirtation at the strip club was a setup. You two met awhile back.

Let’s skip the awkward dance, I mutter when he struggles to find an easy way to get to the point. I remember her. I’m assuming that’s my kid she’s holding.

Lana/Maude stands up. Her blonde hair hangs loose around her shoulders, and I flash back to my fingers sliding through it. She’s wearing a helluva lot more clothes today than when I last saw her, and she’s rounder in the belly from giving birth a month ago. However, she’s still the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.

Also, one of the most terrified. Lana/Maude walks very slowly toward us. I’ve never seen anyone who wasn’t using a walker take this long to travel six feet. She shows me the baby’s perfect, little face.

Her name is Carina, Lana/Maude says. There’s a place in the town over that can do the DNA test.

When I reach for the baby, Lana/Maude nearly backs away. I see her struggling to stay put and allow me to tug the pink blanket away from the kid’s face.

She looks like Barbie.

Who? River asks while standing too fucking close.

My sister, I say and then glance at Lana/Maude, who stares everywhere except at me. The idea of her conning me that night feels farfetched, but she’s clearly suffering from guilt over something. My oldest daughter has the same nose, I say, nearly running my finger over my kid’s cheek. Then I become very aware of everything I’ve touched since the last time I washed my hands. We can do the DNA test. Is there any chance Carina won’t be mine? I ask Lana/Maude.

Finally focusing on me, she shakes her head. The sexy stripper/baby mama looks scolded. I imagine she knew I’d ask. Or maybe River gave her shit. Who knows? I’m in enemy territory with a one-night stand holding my kid. I can’t currently wrap my head around the nuances of this situation.

Let’s assume the DNA test shows exactly what we all expect it to show. What happens next?

What do you want to happen next? River asks when Lana/Maude lowers her gaze and stares at our kid as if she fears I’ll steal the baby away.

I want Maude and Carina to visit Elko, so my daughters and sisters can meet the newest member of the Parrish family. Is that doable?

Lana/Maude glances at River, who shrugs. Sure. When?

The sooner, the better. Trust me that you do not want my sisters showing up here.

River starts to speak until a woman enters the room, holding a baby older than mine. Based on her resemblance to Lana/Maude, I assume they’re sisters. River’s woman gives me a quick, curious glance and then whispers something to him. They excuse themselves once Lana/Maude signals she’s okay.

Maude, huh? I say when we’re left alone.

I prefer Lana, but, yeah, my name is Maude. That was my sister, Max. River calls her Maxine, but she prefers Max.

Amused by her nervous babbling, I sigh. Well, I don’t care what’s on any legal papers. I’ll call you whatever you want.

I didn’t plan this, she says and leans back defensively. I started a new birth control pill, and I hadn’t tested it out yet. I mean, since I ended things with my husband.

Well, I could have used a condom. But I hadn’t planned on anything happening during my trip down, and I don’t walk around with a pharmacy in my back pocket, I say, admiring her full lips and warm blue eyes. As problems go, this one sure did come out beautiful.

I eye the baby cradled in her arms before lifting my gaze to Lana/Maude’s. She watches me in a real naked way as if she’s too tired or scared to hide how scared and tired she feels.

So which will it be? I ask, stepping back. Maude or Lana?

No one calls me Lana.

I did.

She allows a little grin. Is Bronco your real name?

On all my legal papers. My father gave all his kids names that start with a ‘B.’

Is there any particular reason why?

He claimed to be a B-student in school. Then he never achieved more than that in life. Never an A, never an F. Though truth be told, he was an F in a lot of ways. However, that was the reason he gave for naming me Bronco and my sisters, Bambi and Barbie.

What are your daughters’ names? she asks, loosening up.

Summer, Sidonie, and Carina.

Lana allows her first real smile since I arrived. It’s a sexy fucking smile too. Right here, right now, I’m reminded of why I was so keen to jump in the back seat of this strange woman’s SUV.

MAUDE LANA LEROUX

Contrary to what most people think, I’m not a whore. I’ve been with four men—three willingly—in my life. I was faithful to my shitty common-law husband, Kenny Tappan, for the ten years we were together. Even though I was certain he cheated on me, I never strayed. I had one hookup before Kenny, mostly brought on by booze at a teenage party. After dumping my husband, I had no interest in dating or sex. I might be a stripper, but I’m not a whore.

Though hooking up with Bronco definitely doesn’t help my not slutty argument. He showed up at the club where I stripped three nights a week. It was the only job I’ve ever been good at. Back with Kenny, I never seemed to get ahead no matter how much money I made. Without him, I saved up a nice lump sum for a vacation with my nine-year-old daughter, Desi.

After Kenny, things were going well for me. I lived in a grand house belonging to my sister’s man. Desi didn’t totally hate school. I worked a job where I made good money that I could stash away. I only had to keep focused.

But Bronco threw me off. The biker—with his thick brown hair peppered with gray and eyes as dark as chocolate—plopped his fine ass in a chair near the stage, and I lost track of myself. I didn’t know who he was then.

I saw the vest he wore, but the strip club was right off the highway, and people passed through all the time. There was no way to know if the sexy biker was even aware the Reapers Motorcycle Club ran the nearby town of Shasta.

I admittedly didn’t think of that then. Not after I caught his gaze and couldn’t look away. I’d never felt needier in my life. I wanted him to pay attention to me. Not the other girls, or the two men with him at the table, or the gross buffet that truckers enjoyed.

When Bronco focused his warm gaze on me, I was the woman I always wanted to be. I forgot about how much trouble I had connecting with people, even my little girl. Last summer, I was struggling in a lot of ways, but moving in the right direction. I planned to make lots of money before I got too old to strip. I had my goals set.

But then Bronco smiled at me, and the world fell away. After a lifetime of feeling alone, I was filled with the sense that someone saw me completely.

And I only saw him. I danced just for Bronco. He waved me over, and we made small talk. He paid for a lap dance, but it wasn’t enough. I knew wiggling my ass against his dick would never satisfy the need in my gut. That’s how he ended up in the back seat of my SUV.

I couldn’t claim I was never fucked well before. Kenny wasn’t clueless in bed. I’d experienced plenty of orgasms, but Bronco lit a fire in me that no man will ever top. I could have remained in his arms forever.

Except I had a child waiting at home, and Bronco was a stranger. Yet when he said my name during our amazing fuck, I felt as if he put a spell on me. Maybe I bewitched him a little too. At least, I thought he might feel that same need as we parted ways. I noticed how he lingered. Bronco claimed he didn’t know what came over him. I blushed like a schoolgirl and swore I never did things like that. We seemed on the same page. Something powerful passed between us.

But then it was over. I left him in the parking lot, returning home to Desi. In my heart, I believed Bronco would return another night, and we’d hook up again. That time, he’d ask for a date. We’d be real people connecting in a way I never experienced with another man.

However, Bronco didn’t even live in Kentucky. I learned later how his club ran out of a town called Elko in Ohio. My new friend and confidant, Shelby Campbell, knew the Executioners. That’s how she and River were able to track down Bronco for me.

Because something powerful did pass between us that night. Now, over ten months later, I’m facing him again. Bronco looks just as handsome as I remember. Of course, I’m a bloated, blotchy mess. I nearly chickened out on contacting him.

Was it so wrong to wait until I lost more of the pregnancy weight? Then I looked at little Carina with her big brown eyes just like her daddy. Though I couldn’t know if he was interested in being in her life, I didn’t have the heart to keep him away.

Will this news upset your woman? I ask in the least subtle effort to find out if he has a girlfriend or wife.

Bronco smirks at my question. I mean, yeah, he’s not dumb. He knows what I’m getting at.

The only ladies I need to worry about are my daughters and sisters.

When would you want me to visit with the baby?

The sooner, the better.

Is this weekend too soon? I ask and then frown at my need to rush things. Probably is.

No, this weekend is perfect.

Bronco has this expression—a half-smile with a hint of a cocked eyebrow—that warms my stomach and twists it into knots. The heat goes both north and south. My chest aches for his approval. My lady parts are more interested in attention from his cock. Right now, he flashes that look at me, and I go soft and fuzzy inside.

If I wash my hands, can I hold Carina? he asks, and his enthusiasm surprises me.

Of course.

I direct Bronco to the kitchen. On the back porch, River and Max talk quietly. I suspect my sister drew her man away to allow me a few minutes alone with Bronco. Shelby is lurking around too, dying to know how things turn out. In the last year, I’ve made friends and reconnected with my family. Life is great, but the baby with a stranger definitely put a kink in my plans.

Bronco soaps up his hands while I stand a few feet away. With the sun filtering through the shades, I admire Carina in my arms.

Where do you live in Shasta? Bronco asks, drying off his hands.

Here in Max’s house. A lot of people live in the Victorian, but most are moving out soon, I babble, feeling as overheated as I did the night we made our daughter. River and Max are building their house a few blocks over. Shane and Ramona are looking for a place. Wait, do you know Shane?

Yeah, he says, giving me a weird look. Ramona too. She’s Fuse’s daughter.

I guess. I don’t know much about the Skullz.

Bronco’s dark expression softens when he looks at Carina. He gestures toward the baby, and I carefully hand her to him. He immediately smiles at his daughter’s little face.

You’re good with babies, I say just to break up the silence.

Lots of practice. My girls, of course. Plus, I got over twenty guys in my crew with kids of their own. Shit, some have grandbabies now. I can change a diaper as well as I can a car’s engine.

Do you think your daughters will be okay with a new baby?

Lifting his gaze, he smiles softly. Eventually, yes. They’re good girls.

Can I bring Desi with me to Elko? When Bronco gives me a weird frown, I explain, Desi’s my daughter. She’s nine now.

The edginess in his gaze disappears. Of course. I assume you’ll be up in Elko often. Can’t leave your firstborn at home, or she’ll get jealous of her baby sister.

I pull my phone out and find a picture. This is Desi.

There’s something about the way Bronco looks at my daughter and then at me that sends my heart racing. Like I’ve impressed him. I don’t know why it matters. He and I hooked up one time. He moved on with his life, while I got hung up on him. If I want to co-parent successfully, I can’t keep thinking of this man as a, well, a man. He’s my daughter’s father. Romance isn’t on our horizon.

Yet I want him to keep looking at me. I ache for his approval. I need him to want me. I realize I feel exactly the same as I did that night in the parking lot. I’m investing a ton of emotions into what’s simply a hookup. I’m too old to be this goofy over a guy. I’m a mom of two children. I have responsibilities. I need to turn off the romantic hopes blaring in my head.

Once I think I’m under control, he says he dropped by the club months ago to see me. But I understand why you weren’t working there anymore, he adds and smiles at our baby.

Call it hormones or the sorrow of a lovesick pup, but I find myself tearing up when he says he hadn’t forgotten me. It’s probably a lie. Even if it’s not, he just wanted to fuck.

I get emotional easy, I say, wiping my eyes. Not normally, but with the baby and all.

Bronco studies me before saying, It would have been easy to keep Carina to yourself. Knowing who I am and what I am to River, leaving me in the dark would have made sense. You have people here to help you. Don’t need me, I’m sure, but you still reached out. That means something to me, Lana. If you want to cry or scream, I’m never going to complain.

Bronco’s words might be nothing more than a man trying to keep things friendly with the mother of his surprise baby. I’m also sure he doesn’t want to piss off River and the Reapers.

But my hormones and love-deprived heart reject logic. They insist he feels the same magic as I do. With a little time, we’ll get to know each other like normal people, becoming more than a biker and a stripper who fucked in the back seat of an SUV and made a baby.

BRONCO

Growing up, I didn’t have a sitcom-style family. My father wasn’t a gruff man who meant well. My mother didn’t smother us with love and life lessons. My family was trashy in a way that wouldn’t be entertaining to anyone. But my sisters and I did what we could to survive with a violent father and a stone-cold-crazy mother.

My girls don’t live that kind of life. Their father might be a murderer, but that violence isn’t supposed to touch them. Then a few years ago, Summer took a bullet to