In The Red: Nomad Bikers (Devil's Due MC Book 1) by Chelsea Camaron

Author:Chelsea Camaron [Camaron, Chelsea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, crime suspense, action & adventure, Romance, thriller
Publisher: Carolina Dreams Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-05-22T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

~Emerson~

My mind spins like a movie reel. There isn’t a time from my childhood I don’t remember Dover being a part of. After Raleigh was gone, he would park his motorcycle at the end of my driveway, just sitting there. I wondered from time to time, if he was waiting for her to come bouncing out the front door and to him. I wished I could make that happen. I don’t think he meant for anyone to see him there. My mother would never talk about it, that is, if she even noticed.

From behind the pink and white curtains, I peeked out and watched. Sometimes, I felt like he could see me … really see me. It was like his pain was my pain, and my pain was his. A driveway and a house separated us, but our hearts still ached just the same no matter the distance.

When he left for college, there were times he visited home. Again, I would look out of my window to see him sitting at the end of our drive. Closing my eyes, my mind would take me outside to him. At first, I wanted to hug him and remember my friend. The more my life changed, the more I wanted to ride off to wherever he would take me.

Sitting Indian-style on my bed in just a pair of panties and Dover’s T-shirt from last night, I try to wrap my head around everything. Then I stretch my legs out in front of me, feeling deliciously sore.

Dover Ragnes took me for a ride last night, one I’m not sure I will ever forget. One I may hold on to inside my heart, but I certainly must let go of in my life.

Lost in my thoughts, I miss the conversation of the men in my kitchen. When a blur of a person goes down the hall, I stand up and move to my dresser to slide on some sweatpants.

“She’s got fish!” I hear Trapper’s excitement and can’t help laughing to myself. I don’t know what to make of any of the guys, but Trapper certainly is one of a kind.

Gathering clean clothes, I’m getting ready to shower when I hear the sounds of everyone leaving. On a sigh, I turn toward the doorway to see Dover leaning on the jamb. His dark hair is wild, in need of a haircut and for him to stop running his hands through it. The black T-shirt that matches the one I’m currently wearing fits snuggly around his muscular torso and chest while it hangs on me. The fit of his jeans is relaxed—not overly baggie, but nowhere near the tight wranglers found on some of the country boys in the area.

“Like what you see?” he asks with a half-smile and a rasp to his voice.

Immediately, my body comes alive.

Tapping my finger on my chin, I pretend to be giving it some thought. The truth is, I more than like what I see … I just have no business admitting it.

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