Through The Weeds (Nightshade MC Book 2) (4 page)

“I'm good if you know what you want.” Caroline closed the menu. “I'll have the steak and shrimp combo. Medium well for the steak. Baked potato and side salad. And a glass of ice water, please.”

“I'll have the same, but instead of the side salad, bring me extra shrimp and some fries.” Buster picked up both menus and handed them to Tara.

“You just let me know when you're ready and I'll bring you over the dessert menu. Get you something all warm and sweet.” Tara winked at him and sashayed as she walked away. Buster looked over as Caroline laughed. He hadn't expected her to find the situation funny.

“I do believe that woman is going to spit in my food,” she told him. “If she'd have been any more obvious, she'd have mounted you right here.”

“She used to hang out at the bar. We might have hooked up once or twice.” Buster didn't think it was more than that. He remembered her as being clingy to anyone who'd had his dick inside of her.

“I see.” Caroline frowned. “So, women really just hang around there to be handy when one of you guys wants a quick roll in the hay?”

“Some of them do,” Buster admitted. “Most of them just want to have a good time. It's not all about fucking.” It was mostly about fucking, though, but he didn't know exactly to explain that, at least not on a first date.

“Yeah, right. You don't have to try and sanitize it for me. Those women have come into Baked. I heard them talk. It's about fucking for them, either for pleasure or social advancement. Do you realize that there are a few of them who are harboring serious delusions?” She leaned forward, amusement obvious in her expression.

It seemed that she'd finally relaxed. Buster was glad for it, even though he really liked that he made her a little nervous. “What exactly do they say?” He grew more interested as her face flushed bright red. Did she blush like that all over? He'd sure love to find out. “Oh, do they get graphic? Give dirty details?”

“The emphasis is normally on dirty.” Her expression grew serious. “Look, I'm just going to say something straight out. And you might not like it, and that's fine, but it needs to be said. I'm not the type to hook up. I don't sleep around. I'm not like the women who like to hang at the bar, nothing against them, but I'm not like them. If that's what you're expecting...”

“It's not.” Buster cut her off. Suddenly the way she'd cooled off towards him when he'd mentioned the bar made perfect sense. He could only imagine the stories that she'd heard. “I asked you to dinner because I wanted to have dinner with you, good food and good conversation. I've got no ulterior motive.”

“I'm not saying I expect this to get serious or anything like that, I'm just...” She trailed off, sighed. “And I'm making this even more awkward than it already was. I have a talent for that.” She looked away from him, down at the table.

“I think that we'll survive. Maybe even have some fun.” On impulse he reached out and covered her hand with his on the table. She didn't pull away; she might have even blushed a little more. Buster squeezed lightly. “And I've got a confession to make, too.”

“Oh?” She kept her hand where it was. Her teeth pressed down on her bottom lip. She met his eyes, and it was all that he could do to not just lean across the table and kiss her.

“First dates? Small talk? The whole awkward thing? I'm not really that good at it.” Buster stroked two of his fingers over the back of her hand. She inhaled sharply, sat up straighter and kept her hand where it was.

Caroline laughed, a real laugh. Buster knew that she wasn't laughing at him. She was laughing with him, and the sound was pretty musical, in his opinion. In fact, her laugh had been one of the first things that he noticed about her.

“Are you making fun of me now, Caroline?” Buster teased.

“No. I'm not. It's just...” she blushed a deeper shade of red. “I'm worse at the small talk and more awkward than you are, trust me. I might have even practiced some topics of conversation.”

It was his turn to laugh because he could just see her doing that. “Well, don't waste all that hard work. Tell me what you came up with.” Buster continued to stroke her hand.

“It's stupid stuff. Silly. Like where did you grow up and to tell me about your family. Stuff like that.” She shrugged her shoulders, nibbled at her bottom lip again. He didn't think that she realized what she was doing or just how distracting it was to him.   I grew up in Michigan but not in Detroit,” Buster replied. “How about you?” He didn't like to talk about the past. As far as he was concerned, his life had started for real when he'd ended up in Detroit with a prospect patch on his back.

“I've lived close enough to the city to drive in, with my parents when I was younger and then with my friends. It was always a thrill, especially when it was with my friends.” Caroline smiled at the memories.

“No brothers or sisters?”

“No, I was the miracle child, or at least that was the way that they explained it to me. My mother had a few miscarriages and the doctors all said that there was no hope. They gave up. Started researching adoption and then surprise, here was this fetus that would turn into me.”

“That's a nice story.” Buster grinned at her. “Bet they spoiled you rotten.”

“You wouldn't be far off with that bet,” she admitted. “I was honestly a little shit because of it. I grew and became a bigger shit. I remember throwing a fit because they didn't get me a car for my sixteenth birthday. It was the first time I remember seeing disappointment on my parents' face. They canceled the trip they'd planned instead and told me if I wanted a car, I could get a job and get it myself. I did.”

“What kind of car?”

“It was a Ford Mustang. Don't look impressed, it was barely roadworthy. Most of the inside was held together with duct tape and the prayers of a seventeen-year-old girl.” She laughed. “I used it for years, until it just wouldn't run anymore and I got a new used car with the money it would have cost me to fix it. I cried when I took it to the scrap yard. So yeah, I'm a dork.”

“Not a dork at all. A first car is something you never forget.”

“So what about you?”

“My first car wasn't a car. It was a Harley. Piece of junk on two wheels, but I put the work in, made it something special.” And he'd never taken it to the junkyard. Instead he'd parked it in his garage once he'd bought the house.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Caroline asked.

Buster hesitated. In the scheme of getting-to-know-you conversations, questions about siblings were pretty much run of the mill. Still, he never quite new how to answer. Most times he'd simply change the subject, it was too personal, but he found himself answering honestly. “I've got a brother and a sister, both younger. I had an older sister but she passed when we were younger.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. It was a long time ago. I don't see much of my family now.” Or any of them at all, but that sounded cold and was definitely too deep for a first date. “Do you see your family much?”

“I used to. My parents moved to Florida last year. My father wasn't doing too well in the cold, so the doctor recommended a more mild climate. I think that Dad just wanted to be able to see more women in swimsuits.”

“What's your mom think of that?” Buster asked.

“I think she's more excited about seeing the shirtless men parading around in swim shorts. She sent me pictures from the beach last week, all hot guys with ink. Guess she knows my type.”

“Why didn't you move with them?”

“I like it here. Always wanted to live in the city. So, I stayed. Found a job and a crappy apartment. Found the job at Baked and the slightly less crappy apartment. I'm moving up. Only way I'd ever go back to live with them is if I had no other choice.”

Any further conversation was halted as the waitress returned to the table. Except it wasn't the same woman before. Instead it was an amused-looking brunette. “Okay, who got what?” she asked.

“The extra shrimp is mine. The one with the rabbit food is hers.”

“Salad is not rabbit food. In fact, I don't even think rabbits are supposed to eat iceberg lettuce,” Caroline pointed out as the waitress set the plates down.

“Actually, she's right about that.” The waitress winked at Caroline. “Can I get you lovely folks anything else, or should I leave you two to get back to your conversation?”

“I think we're good. One question, though. What happened to Sara?”

“Tara,” the waitress corrected Caroline. “And she had a little trouble with the rules, so tonight was her last shift. You were her last table, actually.” The woman smirked. “Oh, and Andy said to tell you that he hopes you enjoy your meal.”

“Tell him thank you from both of us,” Buster told her. Andy was the owner, who he'd known for several years now.

“I will. Enjoy your meal.”

Caroline waited until the waitress was gone. “So, Tara got fired?”

“Looks like. And I think you can be quite certain there's no spit in your food.”

“That's awesome because this looks really great. And they sure gave you a lot of extra shrimp.”

“Are you fishing for some of my shrimp?”

“What? Me?” Caroline smiled widely. “I'd share my salad if you asked.”

“I'm good without the salad, but I'll share.”

The rest of the meal passed with comfortable conversation, shared food and finally a shared slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Buster liked the fact that Caroline ate, enjoyed the food without making any excuses for it. She even took the last bite when he offered it.

“That was so good, Buster. Thank you.” Caroline wiped her hands on her napkin. “Do you know where the ladies' room is?”

“I'll show you,” he offered. “I should find Andy and say hello.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand to her. She took it without hesitation. He wasn't one for holding hands, as a rule, but he didn't release Caroline's hand until they were at the bathroom. “He should be over by the bar. Come and find me there?”

Buster did find Andy by the bar. “Hey. It's been too long.” He took the seat next to the man. “How have you been?”

“I've been good, Buster. Real good. Business is booming. Speaking of which, dinner for you and your lady friend is on the house. The two of you looked quite sweet together.”

“I appreciate that. How's your wife?”

“Molly is fantastic. She's taking some art classes now. Filling the house with shit that she's made. It's a nightmare,” Andy confided. “But I tell her it's the loveliest thing I've ever seen. Love is about lying sometimes. That's my secret to a happy marriage.”

Buster chuckled at that. “I'll keep that in mind. What happened with Tara?”

“When one of the cooks spotted her, she was spitting on your date's order. I suspect that she had something else in mind for yours. I run a clean kitchen. It's rule number one.” Andy spoke with pride. “And I think you've kept your lovely companion waiting long enough.”

“I suspect that you're right. I'll see you soon, Andy. Give this to the brunette who brought our food out. And as always, the food was fantastic.” Buster shook the man's hand and turned to scan the crowd for Caroline. He spotted her coming out of the bathroom. She'd added some sort of gloss to her lips and fussed with her hair. He watched her cross the room to where he stood. “You ready to go?”

“Shouldn't we go back to the table for the check?”

“It's been taken care of.”

“I've just got to grab my jacket, I left it on my chair. I'll be right back.” Buster enjoyed the view as she walked over to the table. A very tempting strip of her abdomen was revealed when she pulled it on, and she noticed him watching. She looked nervous for a second, but then she smiled and took money out of her jeans pocket and laid it on the table.

“Did you not trust me to tip?” he asked when she came back over.

“Of course not, I just happen to know that people who live on tips always need more tips. I hope I didn't offend your manliness because trust me, I find you quite manly.”

“Good to know.” Unable and unwilling to resist, Buster leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. She tasted like mint and strawberries. He kept the kiss light, waited for her to pull away, but she didn't. Instead she moved a step closer to him, opened her mouth to him but pulled back when he deepened the kiss.

“People are watching,” she whispered.

Buster shifted to press his lips to her forehead. “Sorry. I guess I got carried away.”

“Don't apologize. I almost forgot about the people myself.” She reached out, entwined her fingers with his. “Do you think we can take the long way back to my place?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Chapter Four

Caroline deleted yet another automated message thanking her for her interest in an already filled position. Job searching was a special sort of torture. She'd already lowered her standards, applied for retail jobs and several waitress positions, but so far, no one wanted her. Well, that wasn't strictly true. Buster wanted her. She knew it and the thought of it was enough to lift her spirits. She wanted him, too. She wanted him bad. It had been entirely too long since she'd had sex, or wanted to have sex, for that matter.

She tossed her phone aside, got off of the bed and walked out into the living room. Jillian was home, but she was in her bedroom. Caroline heard the sound of gunfire. It seemed her roommate was relieving some stress by blowing zombies or enemy soldiers to bits. She walked back into her room, quickly changed into the clothes she liked to run in and headed out the door.

Caroline had no destination in mind when she started out, but she soon realized that she was taking a longer route. It was her subconscious letting her know that she had something to work out. She'd been avoiding thinking too deeply about Buster, focusing more on the way he made her warm and fuzzy. But she'd felt warm and fuzzy before, and that had ended badly.

It had been bad enough for her to think that she was broken. She'd felt broken. It was hard to say when she'd stopped feeling that way, but she'd realized it one morning at Baked. She had just taken a batch of carrot cake muffins out of the oven, and it had hit her, she was living life again. And she was happy. Her life hadn't been much, but it was enough for her.

Now she'd lost her job. Every day that passed, her savings account dwindled down a little more. There could be no more eating out or impulse movie purchases. Just the basics. Just for now. Caroline knew that if she asked, her parents would send her some money, but it would come at a price. They'd start the pressure again, wanting her to move closer to them. She didn't want that. She wanted her own life, even if she knew why they worried.

Three years ago, when she'd first been broken, she hadn't been able to get out of bed. Showering had been too much effort. Eating had been too much effort. It had taken months before she was better, and by then she'd had an eviction notice on her door and no job. She'd been forced to move back in with them. They'd worried ever since. It was why she hadn't told them about Baked. Instead she'd told them that she was still working hard and had even been able to move into a nicer place. Caroline had even told her mother about Buster, just to prove that things were great.

And she'd just wanted to talk about Buster to someone who would listen without judging. As much as she was growing to love Jillian, her friend wasn't exactly supportive when it came to Buster. Caroline didn't get Jillian's attitude towards Nightshade, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to. She wanted to just enjoy what she was feeling with him, what he made her feel.

Caroline passed the halfway point of her route, an old abandoned church that gave her the creeps every time. She turned back around, started for home. She heard a motorcycle coming up on her before she saw it. Her increased heart rate had nothing to do with the running. Maybe it was Buster, though she highly doubted it would be. What were the odds? And when the bike passed, she saw it wasn't him.

The bike was all blacked out, no shine to it at all. The rider was also dressed in black, with a full face helmet. Caroline caught sight of a patch on his back: black, silver and red. She's never seen it before. In fact, it gave her such a sour feeling in her stomach that she couldn't maintain her pace. Caroline breathed in and out deeply.

She was just walking now. The sour feeling had caused a stitch in her side. She kept her pace brisk but she no longer cared about clearing her head with a run. Instead, she just wanted to get to Jillian's, to get home and feel safe.

A few blocks later, the stitch was gone, so she started to run again. The eyes that she felt on her had to be her imagination in overdrive. Even so, she made it back to Jillian's house in record time. She slowed down, took the stairs two at a time. As she fit her key in the lock, she heard the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine. Caroline's hands shook but she managed to get the door open. She slammed it behind her, pressed her body against it and trembled. The engine slowed but didn't stop. Caroline risked a peek out the window but only saw the back light. “Shit.”

“Caroline, you okay?” Jillian's voice made her jump and scream just a little.

“Fine. I'm fine,” Caroline said hurriedly. “I got myself all freaked out, convinced that someone was following me.”

“Maybe running at night isn't the best idea for you,” Jillian pointed out. “I was just about to smoke a joint. Care to join me?”

Caroline had smoked before but she didn't indulge often. “Yeah. I think that I need a glass of wine, too.”

<#<#<#<#

“Ms. Anders, it's a pleasure to meet you.” Ryan Richards, owner of the local building supply company, extended his hand with a wide smile. “Come on and sit down. I'm glad that you were able to come by.”

Caroline had put in the application at RBS right after Baked had been beaten to death. She'd assumed when she hadn't heard back that the position had been filled. It was a prime position with weekends off, regular work hours and a small office. The duties were pretty basic, Caroline knew that she could do the job in her sleep if given the chance, she just hadn't expected that she'd get that chance. “I was glad to hear from you.”

“I've looked over your resume. I'm impressed. Clark and Sons is quite a well known law firm, and you worked with them for nearly six years.”

“It was a great company. I left because I needed a change.” And she'd needed space from the son in the title but that was besides the point.

“I gave 'em a call. Can't be too careful these days. Got to check references.”

Caroline kept a smile on her face and wondered what he'd been told. As far as she knew, her former best friend was still the head of Human Resources. “Of course.” She began to wonder why the man bothered to call her down.

“I'm going to go out on a limb and say you and the woman I talked to had some issues.” Ryan consulted a paper in front of him. “Kimberly Clark?”

“You could say that.” Caroline was starting to become confused as to where this conversation was going. “Mr. Richards, I...”

“Call me Ryan. All of my employees do.” He smiled at her. “I know a bitter bitch when I hear one. I don't put any stock in bitter bitches. Now, I've been in Baked enough times to see that you're a hard worker, have a good head on your shoulders. You know how to answer a phone? Take a message? Set appointments? Work a spreadsheet?”

“Yes. Yes and yes.” Confusion was being replaced by something very much like hope. “Are you offering me the job?” It was better to ask than to jump to a conclusion. Caroline held her breath, and then Ryan Richards nodded. She blew any shot of playing it cool when she laughed, though to her credit, she did not do a giddy hand clap.

“I think Monday will be good for you to start. Take the rest of the week and the weekend to get settled. I know you just moved.”

Elation faded. “How do you know that?”

“Buster mentioned it when I saw him earlier. He asked if I'd filled the position, said he knew someone who had applied and that he thought you'd be a good fit here.” Ryan frowned. “Is that a problem for you?”

That was a fantastic question, actually. Was it a problem for her that Buster had put in a good word for her? It was actually pretty sweet of him, but Caroline had the feeling it had been more than a good word. Nightshade had influence. “If he didn't mention me, would you have called me for the interview?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in Ryan's reply. Not even a split second, so Caroline believed that he was telling the job. “Truthfully, the applications have just been sitting here. I keep putting off going through them, there's always something else to do.”

“I don't want to sound crass, but we haven't discussed salary yet.”He named a wage that was better than she'd expected and would include health coverage, even vision. “Well, starting Monday you'll have plenty of time to do everything else.”

“Fantastic.” Ryan grinned. “We open at nine. There's usually some breakfast here for the guys. Bagels or whatever, if you could pick those up I'll reimburse you out of petty cash. There's four of us, well, five of us now.”

Caroline left feeling accomplished and actually a little excited. The mess in Ryan's office had made her twitchy, but most of it looked like things that needed to be put in order and filed. The idea of that made her calm. It was a job that she could do.

It was only a few blocks to the bus stop, another perk, and it was only once she was sitting back and letting her mind wander that she thought about Buster again. She wanted to thank him for putting in a good word for her, and he'd mentioned that he was working at the Mason place. It felt weird to just stop by, so she called his phone first.

There was no answer. Caroline decided that if he was working, he might not hear it. Impulsively she got off a few blocks from the Mason place. Hopefully he wouldn't be angry at her random visit, but she didn't think he would. Since their first dinner date, she'd seen him at least half a dozen times. They weren't all dates. Sometimes they'd just sit in Jillian's kitchen and have coffee or grab a burger when he took a break.

She'd expected to see trucks outside the Mason house, hear the sound of hammers or saws or whatever was used to rebuild a home from the ground up, but there was nothing. The closer she got, the more she realized that no work had been done since the last time she'd run by.

Caroline must have remembered wrong. Buster must have said that they were working somewhere else, and she hadn't been paying attention. He'd had his hands on her at the time, so her mind did tend to wander. She took out her phone again. This time, instead of calling, she sent him a text asking him out to dinner.

She was nearly home when he replied. Caroline stopped walking to be sure that she'd read the text properly. “I'd love to have dinner, but we're going to be stuck at Amelia's for a while. It'll be too late. Tomorrow instead?”

“You lying fuckhead.” Caroline didn't respond to the text. She shut her phone off and continued to walk. Lying was something that she couldn't stand. The truth, whatever it was, was always the better choice. Always.

<#<#<#<#

There were few things as relaxing as a cold beer, a good book and utter silence. Jillian was at work and had promised to bring home pizza. Caroline was digging into a bag of chips to hold her over until then and trying not to get crumbs on the screen of her tablet. She was in the middle of a fast-paced thriller set in New Orleans just after Hurricane Katrina when a knock on the front door made her jump.

At first she wondered if Jillian had forgotten her keys, but a look through the peephole showed her a much more masculine visitor. She opened the door for Buster despite the fact she was hardly dressed for company in her oversized pajama pants and promotional tee shirt from Baked. “Hey.”

“Hey. I never heard back from you.” He stepped inside the house. “Cute outfit. I was going to suggest we got out and get something to eat, but you look like you're in for the night.”

“That was the plan,” Caroline replied. Part of her wanted to just ice him out, tell him that she was busy and he needed to go, but it wasn't the mature thing to do. Even though he'd lied, it didn't mean that she should do the same even by omission. Lying was a thing for her, a thing that ate away at her insides and kept her up at night.

“If you're hungry, maybe we could order in. Hang here?” He stepped closer. He smelled of the road and cigarettes. The combination shouldn't have been appealing but it was, especially combined with the way he was looking at her.

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” Caroline took a deep breath and forced the words out before the horny part of her brain started to call the shots. Just from her proximity to him, she could feel warmth spreading through her. It had been a good long time since she'd been with a man. She'd never been with a man like Buster.

“Why not?” Again, he moved closer. Close enough that she could reach out and touch his arm if she wanted to. She wanted to, but she needed to focus, be straight with him. “Okay, here's the thing. There are only a few things which are deal breakers for me, Buster. Lying is one of them.”

“What are you...” He came even closer to her. His dark brown eyes were narrowed as if he were trying to figure out for himself what she was talking about.

“Don't.” Caroline shook her head and took a step back. “There was no one working on the Mason house yesterday. I went past and saw the place deserted. So, when you texted me that you were there, working late and couldn't go to dinner, it was a lie.”

“It was,” he admitted, which caught Caroline a bit off guard. “Look, there are things that I can't tell you. I said I was at the Mason place because it was the easiest thing to say. I can't talk to you about Nightshade business. I won't.”

“Then tell me that.” Caroline felt a little stupid that it hadn't occurred to her he might be doing something Nightshade-related. She'd been around long enough to know that the club was involved in a lot of different thing. She was pretty sure that Wayne had put money into an envelope once a week and handed it over to Nightshade. She'd always figured that it was the price of doing business. “I don't need the details. I just need the truth.”