Conley (Heartlands Motorcycle Club #8) - Frankie Love Page 0,1
of beers and shots, everyone turns the focus to our plans for the following weekend. Our road captain, Ranger, has an itinerary to show us for a ride.
The rest of the meeting goes smoothly, and by the time we’re done, everyone is cooling off and ready to have a good time. The bar opens to the public and some of the regulars start showing up. Steve and Barbie come in together and I smirk, thinking that’s a wild pair. By the sound of engines in the parking lot, I know it’s gonna be a busy Friday night.
My son, Killian, pats my shoulder. “Hey Dad, you still coming to the barbecue on Sunday?” he asks. “Daisy wants you to know her dad won’t be there.”
I give him the side eye, shaking my head. It’s crazy to think of my own son as all grown up, married to the sheriff’s daughter to boot. It’s been a long hard road, finding solid footing with him. For a long time, he’s resented me — but now that he is a father, he’s coming to see me as more than the man I was.
“I’ll be there. Gotta see my granddaughter. But for the record, I don’t have a problem with Daisy’s father. He’s the one who doesn’t have an open mind.”
“Maybe, but I mean, you’ve been running an illegal operation my entire life, Dad,” he says dryly. He thinks it’s funny, but I don’t find it humorous.
“I know what I’ve done, Killian. I’m trying to make my wrongs right.”
Grunting, I leave the bar, frustrated with everything. Everyone. I get that leadership has its up and downs, but lately it seems near impossible to make everyone happy. I do my best, but hell, I know we have enemies, and I hate the idea that the club I built might hurt the people I love. Every decision weighs heavily on my shoulders. Sometimes I just wish I could ride off into the goddamn sunset and have some fun. It’s been a long ass time.
Night is beginning to fall, the sky streaked in purples and pinks as I walk through the parking lot toward my bike. Before I get on it, though, I see one of our tow trucks pulling a beat-up car to the garage.
I walk over, knowing the shop is closed for the night. The tow truck driver, Dice, jumps out of the truck as it pulls to a stop.
“Hey, Troy,” he says as I bump his fist. “Just went out for this call.” He juts his chin out. “This woman and her son were stuck out on Route 14. Engine’s busted.”
I turn, looking to where he’s pointing and my heart fucking stops.
The woman who is climbing out of the cab is goddamn gorgeous. And when she lifts her chin and her eyes find mine, I know what I need to do.
“I’ll take it from here, Dice. You go have a beer next door.”
He frowns. “You sure? You don’t usually—”
I cut him off. “I got this.” I take the keys from his hand and step toward the woman. Dice leaves with a grin, happy to have a free night. “You having some problems with your engine?”
She nods, running a hand through her long, wheat-colored hair. “Yeah, it started acting up and as I pulled over to the side of the road, it started smoking.”
“Well, the shop’s closed for the night, but come on back and I’ll get your information.”
She bites her bottom lip, hesitating. Then she speaks, looking over her shoulder. “River?”
Someone steps out of the shadows. Her son. He’s barely a teenager, but he’s tall, almost taller than his mom. She’s petite, maybe 5’4”, curvy as hell with full tits that make my balls ache. She’s something else. Something I want.
“I’m Conley,” I tell her. “Troy Conley.”
“I’m Calico,” she says. “And this is your shop?”
I look around at the property. The shop, the bar, the warehouse. By now, I own a good portion of the town. “Yeah, it’s my shop,” I tell her.
She and River follow me inside, the smell of gasoline and motor oil masked momentarily by Calico’s sweet scent. Lavender and honey, and damn, I want a taste.
“If I can just get your name and number, we can call you in the morning when we’ve had a look under the hood.” I hand her a clipboard with the forms. The guys can enter it all into the computer later. Right now, I don’t want to look at a damn screen — I want