ROMANCE: MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Biker's Baby (Bad Boy Alpha Male Motorcycle Club Romance) (Contemporary MC Biker Pregnancy Romance) (119 page)

I walked into the house, the wood below creaking as I entered the breezeway. I could smell the warm fire burning in the living room fireplace.

I unzipped my boots so as not to drag the mud and slush through the house. Then, I turned right toward the living room. The wood was warm and slick beneath my socks. Walking through the archway, I immediately stopped in my tracks, my heart beating, almost jumping toward my throat.

The tall figure turned toward me, hands slouched in the crisp, gray slacks.

“Hello,” he said, in a cool, low voice. “It’s been a while...Erin.”

The last time I saw Matty Gordon was on our wedding day. Well, it was supposed to be our wedding day. I should perhaps clarify that the last time I saw him was as I was running out the door, picking up the train of my dress with one hand, and the straps of my heels with the other, sobbing “Sorry” and “I can’t do this” and “I’m not ready” to the bright-eyed, wiry young boy I had always known growing up.

The Matthew Gordon I saw in the living room was certainly not the wiry, doe-eyed Matty that I remembered. He wore a crisp and polished gray suit that altogether clashed with the outdated, cozy scene of my father’s living room, the shelves cluttered with old figurines and trinkets, and a bright red couch with my mother’s favorite knitted throw. A deep blue tie brought his ensemble together, and brought out the lightness of his blue-gray eyes.

Matthew had always been rather tall, but he seemed much bigger, fuller now. Less of a boy and more a man. His golden-brown hair fell just right, neatly swept, with a few stray strands sweeping across his forehead. His face sported a clean shave, but the afternoon scruff was already setting in, marking his strong jaw with flecks of darker brown. He was polished. I didn’t remember him ever being quite the type.

“Matty--Matthew,” I said, correcting myself. I had pictured our first meeting not so one-sidedly prepared.

“Glad to see you made it here safely,” he said. He turned a small bird figurine to be facing outwardly upon a shelf. “I was just on my way out from talking with your father.”

“On your way out…” I folded my arms. “Right. And what business do you have here, anyway?”

“Well,” he said. “I’m sure you know all about it by now, since you’re so invested in the goings on around here.”

His words were sharp, and I felt my body grow tense. It wasn’t the thought-out, mature, and collected reunion I had intended at all.

“The Gordon ranch is looking to expand, and the McGarity farm has some great things to offer.”

“Excuse me?” My voice raised. “You can’t be serious.”

Matthew continued, seemingly unphased. “For one, it’s a more direct route to get to the Sakatchee River. It would open up more land for grazing. More than that, it would help your father…”

“Help? What help is it to take away everything he’s ever worked for?” My arms waved in frustration in front of me. “The McGarity’s have been in this area for generations! You can’t just come in here and--”

Matthew’s eyes traced to my side, his hands fell out of his pocket, and for the first time I saw his expression waver.

“Momma,” Philip’s hand tugged at my sweater, his other hand hugging Zelda, now freed from her cage, close to his chest.

My hands immediately fell to my side and I patted Philip’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, Philip,” I said. “I was just having a talk with--Mr. Gordon.”

The room suddenly felt tense, and I dared not make eye contact with Matthew.

Pete came fumbling into the house, the sound of luggage bags being placed on the wooden floor.

“Hey, Philip, don’t you wanna see your new room?”

Philip perked up and I nodded permission as he ran toward Pete. I peeked out and sent a thankful glance toward Pete as he and Philip walked up the narrow wooden stairs.

I turned around, only to be awkwardly met with a broad, suited chest.

I backed away.

“Excuse me,” Matthew made his way out toward the hallway. “I should be going.”

I didn’t have any time to say anything before he was already bounding out the door. I peeked out the window as he spoke briefly with my father before shaking hands and leaving for his car, which must have been parked out back.

I sighed and slumped into the red couch. I was so tired, and that was not at all the welcome home I was prepared for. In a moment, the jet lag took over and the last thing I remember was the smell of wildflowers and the memory of fireflies flitting above a deep canyon.

“My, what a pleasant surprise,” Maggie Turner greeted me as soon as the bell rang at the storefront door of Gordonville’s Country Market and Cafe.

“It’s good to see you too,” I said. Wafts of cinnamon and apples filled my senses, and the smell of freshly baked goods. Maggie wiped some stray strands of her jet black hair from her face. Her long black braid fell toward her back, her green apron messed with flour.

We stared at one another for a few solemn moments. Then, a smirk, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer myself. I laughed, and Maggie let out a girlish squeal as we embraced one another.

“Where in the world have you been, Erin McGarity?” she held me out with her hands on my shoulders.

“I miss you too, Mag.”

The ring at the door sounded.

“Come on,” Maggie ushered me toward the cafe nook of the store.

              We sat ourselves at a table. It was still early in the day after our arrival. Philip was still at home with my dad, and I took the time to head into town for some items, and not without stopping to pay a visit to my best friend.

              I took a sip of warm cocoa from my mug.

              “When you said things were rough, I didn’t think you meant Big Man Matthew was going around town buying people out.”

              “Okay,” Maggie took a sip of her drink. “Big Man Matthew? What is that?”

              I rested my hand underneath my chin, my cheeks red. “I was trying to make him sound ominous.”

              “One,” she said. “That makes him sound like Paul Bunyan’s awkward cousin. And two, he’s not really a
bad
guy. He’s just...really powerful. And wealthy. And handsome...”

I sent her a darting look and she took another sip from her mug.

“To be fair,” she said. “He’s the one with the sympathy card.”

“What?” I sat up in my chair. “He’s trying to steal away everything my family’s worked for!”

“You left him at the altar, Erin. Then you left town. You didn’t call, you didn’t visit. You don’t really have a right anymore to defend the place.”

I grew hot at Maggie’s stark comments, but deep down, I felt it too. I had left. And six years was a long time, apparently. Enough for the entire town to change, and the people in it.

“He’s done some good, you know. I’m sure you noticed all the unique little shops in town--”

“Yeah, it does seem a bit niche, doesn’t it? I mean, who’s coming out to Gordonsville for arts and crafts?”

“That’s just it, Erin. Matthew’s been bringing in some steady flow. We get some real adventure seekers out here, for hiking and hunting, and the investors bring in some top tier folk, you know? They come for meetings and outdoor events, and the Gordon’s host them all at their log cabin club. It’s different, but it means we’re all able to keep our heads above water.”

I sighed without response.

              The doorbell jingled at the front of the store. The young girl cashier greeted the customers.

              Maggie stood up with her mug.

              “I should get back to making pies.”

              “This place is
so
adorable,” a high-pitched drawl sounded through the store, with the clacking of heels hitting the hardwood floor.

             
Tourists,
I thought, with rolled-eyes.
Yuppie tourists are exactly what we need in this town.

              I snaked my way down one of the aisles.

              “Isn’t this marvelous, Matthew?”

             
Matthew?

I stopped in my tracks.

              The woman’s heels came to a stop, and I heard her voice close now, coming from the other aisle.

              “Oh, these candles are quaint. Perhaps we can use some of them for the reception…”

              I turned to my left, surprised to be locking eyes with none other than Matthew Gordon. He was wearing a sport coat and slacks. I pursed my lips at the sight.

What, did he just step off his yacht in the middle of Montana?

Clean-cut Matty Gordon was almost too unbelievable to witness. It didn’t suit
Matty
at all, but
Matthew
?

              I laughed a little inside.
I bet.

              He sighed and turned his face away, trying to cover up the fact that he already noticed me. I thought I saw a little pink in his face, but I figured it was what I wanted to think I noticed.

The woman beside him continued to flit around the aisle, excitedly gazing at trinkets and things. She wore a pressed suit jacket over a dark red dress and black stockings. Her strawberry-blonde hair framed effortlessly around her face.

              I was reminded that I let my hair out naturally today, with the unruly brown curls restrained only by a sequined scrunchie I found at the bottom of my suitcase. The tired-mom look was completed with jeans and an oversized sweater with the bold letters “Bring on the Bacon” plastered across the front.

              “Oh, hello, do I know you?”

              “Excuse me?” I blinked.

              The woman’s big brown eyes caught me off guard, her smile bringing me back to the moment.

              “Oh--oh,” I pulled at my sleeve. “No, I was just--”

              I looked at Matty, and as my gaze followed to him, so did the woman’s.

              “Oh, Allison,” he signaled with a hand. “This is Erin. McGarity.” He cleared his throat. “She’s an old friend.”

              My brow furrowed. I didn’t have time to wallow in my thoughts about that before Allison began to smile widely.

              “Oh, so you knew Matthew when you were young?”
              I sent
Matthew
a darting look, of which he evaded.

              “Yes. We grew up together. Went to the same school all through high school. In fact, it’s funny we ran into each other, because I’ve been living in New York for the past few years and I don’t actually seem to know who you are...”

              She huddled closer toward Matty, smiling up at him. His face didn’t seem to reflect the same kind of smile, and he stood awkwardly at her gushing.

              “Oh, Matthew. Of course he doesn’t make a big deal about it all as he maybe should. He’s awfully shy--”

              I kept in a chuckle. “Shy?”

             
That’s not the Matty I know.

              “Yes, well, he’s always so busy keeping up business and the ranch, but I told him that it’s going to get out eventually, so he should just let it out.”

              “Let it out?” I crossed my arms.

              “I’m his fiancé,” she said.

              My heart skipped a beat.

              “Congratulations,” I muttered through a stiff smile.

              Matthew said nothing, just exchanging silent glances toward me that were altogether unfamiliar to me now. The shy, polished, business-wiz Matthew Gordon was not someone I knew. And even looking into his cloudy-blue eyes couldn’t change that.

              A loud ring sounded through Allison’s purse. I almost jumped at the break in tension. It felt like my way out.

              Allison turned to Matthew. “It’s Steven. He’s got some updates on the Tulsa account. It’ll just be a moment.”

              She left toward the door of the shop, and after a moment of standing there, stunned, I came to and took that as my cue.

              “I should be going,” I began making my way down the aisle toward the door. Matthew’s footsteps sounded in the aisle next to mine as he followed me.

              “Wait, Erin,” he said.

              I held up my hand.

              “Um, okay. You’re finally talking. Nice of you to join the conversation. I’m just making my way out now--”

              “Erin, come on--” He sped up ahead of me and cut me off at the end.

              I came close to him, his broad chest in front of mine. This type of meeting, or rather an awkward dance, was becoming all-too common for us. I could smell him from where I was; he smelled like fresh earth and pine and my mind drifted to wildflower fields.

              I shook my mind of the thought.

              “Excuse me,” I said. “I’m trying to leave.”