The Possibility of Trey (10 page)

So why was Trey so interested in a female who was almost the complete opposite of what I'd seen going in and out of the clubhouse? Of who I saw wrapped around him earlier?

I was like a crow next to a parade of south American parrots who paraded in and out of the clubhouse doors and were beautiful in their bright plumage. They giggled and flirted and quipped easily. I didn't think I'd ever giggled in my life, didn't know how to flirt and kept most of what was on my mind inside me.

I just couldn't figure it out.

Then there was where Trey sat on my internal scorecard. True, he had checks in both the 'dick' and 'bastard' category, but he hadn't acted like either of them from a place of just-because-I-can even as a badassed biker. Rather it seemed to be from a deep well of strength as if 'hard-driving alpha' was his natural modus-operandi. There had been glimpses of sweet albeit not the kind of sweet I'd been exposed to before. Not to mention all of him hitting the red line on the hotness scale. There was no denying the fact the man was gorgeous. And that he directed that hot interest to me didn't hurt either because it was damn flattering.

"Lally, it's about time for my bath," my mother called from the front room, interrupting my thoughts.

Both of them had taken to spending time after dinner in front of the TV I'd taken from Drake's room. True, dad couldn't see what was going on but between my mother's whispered commentary on the action he couldn't view and the sounds he could hear, they both seemed to enjoy whatever was on. They'd spend an hour or so cuddled together in the middle of the couch after dinner, her hands holding his one while whispering and laughing together. Dad had even said she was taking her noon-time naps on the couch which meant they were trying to vary their routine. Something that was probably more than welcome.

I know it was for me.

And the new closeness between them was a real boon. Instead of coming home to the tension of whatever spat they'd had during the day, I arrived to a house that held smiles and ease. Although the lack of Drake in the house, causing his own brand of upset, probably had a lot to do with it as well.

"I'm ready if you are," I called back, stacking the paperwork with a vow to come back to it after they were in bed.

But it was in the middle of her bath, when I was rinsing the soap from my mom's shoulders, that I felt my world tilt on its axis.

"I'm going to try sleeping in dad's room tonight," my mother advised, her voice echoing quietly in the tiled room. I was glad I was seated on the tub edge behind her because there was no way I could've kept my shocked expression from her. She'd moved into what we'd called the guest bedroom since her stay in the hospital the first time and had had me move all her clothes and stuff there. I hadn't asked why. Hadn't really wanted to know but now it seemed that things had changed between them.

"Okay," I replied, keeping careful control of my voice. "Is this a one-time thing or should I plan on moving your stuff back in?"

"Oh, your father did it for me this afternoon," she cooed and I could hear the smile in her voice along with a secret something that wasn't meant for a daughter's ears. "Things between us have, uh, changed."

"And I'm getting you like this change," I offered uncertain on exactly how to respond.

"Very much. Oh yes. Very, very much," she breathed.

"Just be careful, Mom," I warned.

"I will be. We put my nitro pills on the nightstand and when we do, uhm, things, I keep aware of what my heart's doing, how it's performing. When I forget, your father asks." She ducked her head as if embarrassed by her admission.

"You've been doing things?"

"Ah, some." Her voice dragged out the 'some' until it was almost two syllables.

"I don't need to know," I said hastily. "I just want you to stay healthy and without pain."

"I'd like to be back in your father's bed, Lally," she breathed with a determined nod.

I couldn't help my smile at the happiness I heard in her voice.

That was until I realized my poor sick mama was probably getting more action than I'd seen in years.

It was after eleven by the time Trey made it back to his house which was located about four miles from the Hellion compound. And he was tired to the point of being almost gutted.

Huff's injury hadn't been bad although the hospital was keeping him for a couple of days. It had been a through-and-through on the meaty part of his shoulder which had missed both bone and major arteries. The only concern was infection.

The police had recovered all three slugs and even Chief Taylor had been on-scene to ensure everything was done by the book.

The tapes from the security monitors had shown the drive-by had been done by a late model Toyota emblazoned with distinctive rims and a festooned with all sorts of shiny chrome.

A boy-toy.

Which led everyone to think of the Yang-Ze, the local Asian gang.

The Japanese invasion in Montana had started in the mid-nineties when they'd begun buying up huge parcels of land in order to raise Kobi beef. No one had even blinked an eye since they'd kept to themselves and added to the local economy.

Interest had only flared when they'd taken over most of the mini-marts and gas stations, which Bishop had discovered was a way for them to launder money from whatever nefarious activities they had elsewhere, none of which had been uncovered through searches on the web. If the car was any indication, that meant they'd branched out even further which could've added the rental of pussy and illegal drugs to their endeavors.

Trey was not down with them providing the citizens of Missoula with either, especially not within the holy confines of Hellion's sphere of influence. But as Brand had been quick to point out, anyone could trick out a foreign car spending less than a large in order to use it as cover to create a misunderstanding.

Which meant neither the club or the authorities were close to discovering who'd had the cajones to actually cap a member of the Hellions on property. An act guaran-damn-teed to ensure swift and severe retaliation.

Trey shucked himself quickly out of his clothes and underneath the thick comforter on his acre of bed.

The biggest disappointment though had been having to cancel his time with Dallas. Something he'd been anticipating and he'd felt a gray cloud descend when he'd had to cancel their plans. But he'd liked her response.

I'll keep your side of the porch warm.

It had been such a great comeback, one without artifice or innuendo that he'd almost chuckled out loud in delight when he'd received it. Which wouldn't have been appropriate in the middle of a police investigation of the a shooting of one of his men on the property he was responsible for.

He glanced at the clock again wondering if she was asleep. 11.12 pm, the clock read. Probably. He knew her shift started at 5.30 which meant her days started early. And if her folks went to bed around nine that meant she probably wasn't far behind.

But, it couldn't hurt. If she was asleep, a text message could be ignored and she'd just see it tomorrow morning.

He reached for his phone, typing quickly and hitting 'send' without double thinking it.

His cellphone chirped back almost immediately, which had him smiling into the thick covering at his chin.

TM:
Just wanted 2 say, missed be'g w/u 2nite. I look 4ward 2 2morrow.

Dasher:
Noted & reciproc8d.

TM:
Can't sleep?

Dasher:
Natives r restless. Mom sleepg n dad's rm. 2 much noise 2 sleep.

At Dallas's text, he couldn't help his chuckle.

Yeah, he'd noticed the connection between the older married couple during the movie and had wondered if the horniness of the older couple had contributed to his own sexual tension.

TM:
Is it yuck or…

Dasher:
Or?

TM:
Jealousy?

He hoped she'd taken his words as he'd intended. In that, she needed to get some of her own. When she didn't respond straight away, he figured he'd offended her in the worst possible way.

Dasher:
Yearng, more like. Wishg 4 what they have.

Trey's cock, which had been at half-mast, shot to full iron strength at her words. But even better than his crotch's reaction was what his heart heard. That she wasn't looking to just get laid but wanted a connection with a man.

And he wanted to be just the man she connected with.

TM:
Gotcha. The still wantg after so long.

Dasher:
& after so much.

TM:
I want 2 kiss you.

There was another delay and he wondered if she'd fallen asleep or if he'd crossed one of her lines.

Dasher:
Definite possibility.

TM:
Love possibilities. Am poster child 4 possibilities. Look 4ward 2 see'g u 2morrow.

Dasher:
Gnight, Trey.

TM:
Gnight, Dallas.

It wasn't until the next morning that Trey realized he'd slept with his cellphone in his hand.

.
.
.
.*

I sat in the cab of my truck, sipping my thick dark morning brew and realized I was being wooed.

I'd kept our text messages and had re-read them about a hundred times between last night and this morning. Yep, it was official. I was on Trey's radar just as much as he was on mine. And whatever was building between us was a definite possibility of a guy and a girl acting on their initial attraction. In spite of what said girl had previously thought about said man's lifestyle choice.

Wooed.

It was such a quaint, old-fashioned sort of word but seemed to fit our circumstance completely. We'd met due to the capricious wind of fate, had been attracted to one another from the get-go and had shared more than a few conversations that had absolutely shit-all to do with things of either the heart or body. Even though my heart and body had become engaged by just us innocently talking together. As well as the not so innocent things that had come out of Trey's mouth.

We'd been building trust too, which couldn't be discounted. I trusted him as both my boss's boss and as well as the caretaker of my brother. I'd trusted him to treat my parents well in the times he'd been around them and in both endeavors he'd come through with flying colors. Even though he did wear the Hellion's vest and carried the tag of 'president' over his heart.

I was beginning to trust Trey with the pieces of me that I was handing him, one small shard at a time.

I wasn't one of the ones that'd had her insides blown to smithereens because of some dumb-fuck she'd decided to love who had done some asshole thing. But I had watched and learned from other women's mistakes. And had done all I could do to protect myself from having it happen to me.

By handing Trey pieces of myself and then watching to see what he did with them, I was, I told myself, being careful.

And a girl could never be too careful.

I wanted more, though. I wanted to woo right back but I didn't know how. I only knew how to be me. Just some tom-boy who was more comfortable threading pipe together than flipping talking flirty with the guy she liked.

God.

Damn.

Maybe I could canvas my crew and figure out what a girl did to let a guy know she liked him. Couched in just the right way, they wouldn't have a clue since most of them viewed me as sexless. Plus, I might learn all sorts of good stuff which might not be my choice of action at the moment but could be used further on down the road.

Would there be a road for someone like me and a biker like Trey?

At lunchtime, a time when I usually retreated to eat my home-packed sandwiches and fruit alone, I sat with the rest of the guys. Trying to sound casual, I finally pulled up my big girl panties and asked, "how do you know if a girl likes you? You know, in
that
kind of way?"

There were a couple of jaw-drops with a couple of chuckles before Len picked up the slack. "Seriously, Sheridan? You've got some girl macking on you or something?"

"We've gone through this before so get off the gay shit. And no asshole, I'm not being pursued by a girl. I was just wondering how a girl would let a guy know she was interested." I ignored the heating of my cheeks and let my eyes fall on the guys around me.

"Besides getting naked?" Danny asked and I couldn't find any measure of smart-ass in his expression that accompanied his words.

"Yeah besides that."

There was silence all around before Cal, one of the rookies, started talking. "It's not so much the way she looks or even what she says. You know, in the difference between what is true and what is just for the night. It's in the way her eyes hold yours, the angle of her body as you stand together and the light touches between you which shouldn't mean shit but somehow do. There's this something that seems to fill the spaces between you and gives a guy the idea that there might be…that there's a chance of the wonderful that could happen between the two of you."