He scoffed at that. “It’s funny how the outside world can be deceived into thinking something is a certain way. Appearances can be very fucking misleading,” he jabbed his finger at the photo, “My parents aren’t happy, and any happiness they did have was a fucking lie.”
I took in what he’d said, looked at the photo again, and then back at him. “You’re right, things aren’t always what they seem.”
“In my experience, Harlow, things are never as they fucking seem.”
His voice had a hard edge to it, and I wondered at what he’d seen and lived through in his life. “Not always, but sometimes they are exactly as they seem,” I murmured, “We’ve just got to open our eyes a little more and when we do see it, we have to believe it the first time and stop second guessing ourselves.”
Scott’s eyes widened a little, and he leant an arm against the wall. I couldn’t help but stare at his arm muscles as he did this; like I said, I had a weakness for arms, and getting a close up of his bare arms like this could not be wasted. “Fuck,” was all he said for a moment. His eyes searched mine, and then he said, “They don’t make chicks like you around here.”
I had no idea what that meant but the mood felt heavy, and I felt the need to lighten it. “I’m all country, baby,” I joked, throwing a wink at him, “Now, where’s your bathroom?”
He smiled and his eyes crinkled again. Shaking his head at me, he said, “You’re something fucking else, you know that?” Pointing at a door down the hall, he directed, “Toilet and shower in there, towels in the cupboard if you want to take a shower.”
“Thanks, I think I will.”
I felt his eyes burning into me as I walked away from him. When I reached the bathroom, I turned to see if he was still standing there. He was, and the look of desire written across his face sent heat through my body until all my nerve endings were alive with that same desire. It couldn’t be denied any longer; I wanted Scott Cole. Simple as that.
***
I found Scott on his back verandah after I’d finished my shower. He was leaning against the railing, drinking coffee.
“You want a coffee?” he asked, pushing off the railing.
Smiling, I answered, “You have no idea how much I want a coffee. Yes, please.”
He nodded, and went inside. I watched him go; he was dressed in the familiar jeans, black t-shirt and his cut. I’d had no idea that’s what they called their vest; my mother had enlightened me. I was so clueless about bikers.
“How long have you been a member of Storm?”
“Grew up in it. My Dad’s the President.” He held up the sugar with a questioning look, to which I shook my head, no. Putting it back down, he asked, “Milk?”
“Yes please, but not too much. And I like my coffee strong.”
A couple of minutes later we were back outside, enjoying our morning coffee and the gorgeous spring morning. It was my favourite time of the year, warm without the brutal heat that a Queensland summer can bring.
“Time for you to spill, babe. What was wrong with Lisa last night?” Scott swiveled to face me.
“Girl stuff.” I really didn’t want to get into it with him; one, because I was fairly sure once he knew what it was he would rather not know, and two, I didn’t want to break Lisa’s confidence.
He cocked his head with a confused look. “What girl stuff?”
I sighed. “Okay, just remember you asked for this and you can’t let on to Lisa that you know. She got her period for the first time last night. That kind of girl stuff.”
“Thank fuck you came then. She wouldn’t have told me and her mother could care less.”
“So, they live next door to you? Are you close?” This relationship had me stumped.
“We’re not close but her mother, Michelle, worked at Indigo for awhile. She’s a junkie and caused problems there so we had to fire her. Lisa needed a roof over her head so I rented my house next door to Michelle and I keep an eye on Lisa. She knows to ask for help when she needs it but she rarely asks for anything.”
“She strikes me as a tough little cookie; a real fighter.”
“She is, but she has no fucking confidence. Michelle ignores her and spends her money on drugs before she ever gives Lisa a dime.”
“So that’s why you brought her cat in and paid for it.” I was connecting the dots here and I was surprised where they were leading; not at all what I would have thought. Maybe Scott was more right than I gave him credit for earlier; things and people aren’t always what they seem.
“Yeah, babe, that’s why I got the damn cat fixed. Lisa loves that cat.”
“I get the impression that underneath that badass biker image there’s a gentle giant.”
“No, there’s just me, Harlow. There’s no image; I am what I am. Don’t fuck with me because I’ll fuck back,” he said, roughly, eyes piercing mine.
I leant forward, towards him. “I get that, but from where I’m standing, what I see is that for the people who don’t fuck with you, you’d give your life for them. And just for the record, I don’t fuck with people. Ever.”
I took in what he’d said, looked at the photo again, and then back at him. “You’re right, things aren’t always what they seem.”
“In my experience, Harlow, things are never as they fucking seem.”
His voice had a hard edge to it, and I wondered at what he’d seen and lived through in his life. “Not always, but sometimes they are exactly as they seem,” I murmured, “We’ve just got to open our eyes a little more and when we do see it, we have to believe it the first time and stop second guessing ourselves.”
Scott’s eyes widened a little, and he leant an arm against the wall. I couldn’t help but stare at his arm muscles as he did this; like I said, I had a weakness for arms, and getting a close up of his bare arms like this could not be wasted. “Fuck,” was all he said for a moment. His eyes searched mine, and then he said, “They don’t make chicks like you around here.”
I had no idea what that meant but the mood felt heavy, and I felt the need to lighten it. “I’m all country, baby,” I joked, throwing a wink at him, “Now, where’s your bathroom?”
He smiled and his eyes crinkled again. Shaking his head at me, he said, “You’re something fucking else, you know that?” Pointing at a door down the hall, he directed, “Toilet and shower in there, towels in the cupboard if you want to take a shower.”
“Thanks, I think I will.”
I felt his eyes burning into me as I walked away from him. When I reached the bathroom, I turned to see if he was still standing there. He was, and the look of desire written across his face sent heat through my body until all my nerve endings were alive with that same desire. It couldn’t be denied any longer; I wanted Scott Cole. Simple as that.
***
I found Scott on his back verandah after I’d finished my shower. He was leaning against the railing, drinking coffee.
“You want a coffee?” he asked, pushing off the railing.
Smiling, I answered, “You have no idea how much I want a coffee. Yes, please.”
He nodded, and went inside. I watched him go; he was dressed in the familiar jeans, black t-shirt and his cut. I’d had no idea that’s what they called their vest; my mother had enlightened me. I was so clueless about bikers.
“How long have you been a member of Storm?”
“Grew up in it. My Dad’s the President.” He held up the sugar with a questioning look, to which I shook my head, no. Putting it back down, he asked, “Milk?”
“Yes please, but not too much. And I like my coffee strong.”
A couple of minutes later we were back outside, enjoying our morning coffee and the gorgeous spring morning. It was my favourite time of the year, warm without the brutal heat that a Queensland summer can bring.
“Time for you to spill, babe. What was wrong with Lisa last night?” Scott swiveled to face me.
“Girl stuff.” I really didn’t want to get into it with him; one, because I was fairly sure once he knew what it was he would rather not know, and two, I didn’t want to break Lisa’s confidence.
He cocked his head with a confused look. “What girl stuff?”
I sighed. “Okay, just remember you asked for this and you can’t let on to Lisa that you know. She got her period for the first time last night. That kind of girl stuff.”
“Thank fuck you came then. She wouldn’t have told me and her mother could care less.”
“So, they live next door to you? Are you close?” This relationship had me stumped.
“We’re not close but her mother, Michelle, worked at Indigo for awhile. She’s a junkie and caused problems there so we had to fire her. Lisa needed a roof over her head so I rented my house next door to Michelle and I keep an eye on Lisa. She knows to ask for help when she needs it but she rarely asks for anything.”
“She strikes me as a tough little cookie; a real fighter.”
“She is, but she has no fucking confidence. Michelle ignores her and spends her money on drugs before she ever gives Lisa a dime.”
“So that’s why you brought her cat in and paid for it.” I was connecting the dots here and I was surprised where they were leading; not at all what I would have thought. Maybe Scott was more right than I gave him credit for earlier; things and people aren’t always what they seem.
“Yeah, babe, that’s why I got the damn cat fixed. Lisa loves that cat.”
“I get the impression that underneath that badass biker image there’s a gentle giant.”
“No, there’s just me, Harlow. There’s no image; I am what I am. Don’t fuck with me because I’ll fuck back,” he said, roughly, eyes piercing mine.
I leant forward, towards him. “I get that, but from where I’m standing, what I see is that for the people who don’t fuck with you, you’d give your life for them. And just for the record, I don’t fuck with people. Ever.”
