Ice (Thor Book 2), page 2
“Why?”
This was a relevant question, and also a question I didn’t want to answer truthfully.
“You remember that woman who had been shot a while back by a dirty sheriff? There was a motorcycle club involved, and she recovered against all the odds.”
“Sure.”
He would remember that because it had been a big thing on the news. Cassandra and Black had their photos plastered all over, and I’d heard Black roar to someone who seemed to be nicknamed Ice that he wanted it to stop, and no other picture had better show up anywhere. The Ice-person had apparently been successful because the coverage faded away almost immediately, and there were no other pictures of Black’s family or the club members.
“Well... Cassandra manages a small lodge they own up in Washington state, and I figured I’d go up there and relax for a bit. Hike around in the mud or whatever, you know? She’s quite something, and I want to see how she’s doing.”
That wasn’t a total lie, at least.
“You want me to come with you?”
“No.” Toby’s eyes widened when I responded a little too quickly and way to brusquely, so I added lamely, “I could use some time alone to think about what to do next.”
“Okay,” he murmured. “If you're sure, then a pal called, and one of their guys sprained his shoulder, so they wanted to know if I could come down to Colorado for a while. Mike might go too, and if you’re sure you don’t mind, they could use my help.”
“Why not?” I said, carefully keeping relief out of my voice. “You go do that, baby. Have fun.”
I didn’t want to tell him that I had another reason for going to Rogan, and when he reached for his phone with a grin, I smiled back at him.
My son’s pale, blue eyes were so happy, and a flash of fierce protectiveness washed through me. It had been a struggle to act casually when I saw Black’s mother, Gee Hagen, aim eyes exactly the same color at me, and I’d seen them on his sister too.
Toby didn’t look like them at all, so it didn’t have to mean anything. Blue eyes so pale they were almost white were uncommon but not exclusive to Black’s family, so it could be a coincidence. I didn’t know for sure, though, and it might be something Tobias and I would have to talk about.
I needed to know who they were first, so I’d go to Rogan and check the Hagen family out.
Then I’d decide what to do.
***
Ice
“The fuck?” he grunted and turned to glare at his brother.
“Couldn’t let you start a fight with Mom,” Black said with a small grin. “You know shit would have been uncomfortable for weeks, so it was better like this.”
“Mom’s a damned adult, Black. No need to treat her like she’s fucking royalty.”
“Just stop,” Black sighed. “She’s been our mother for a very long time now, and we both love her. She isn’t easy, though, and never will be.”
Ice knew his twin was right but growled softly out of principle.
“Petter...” Black murmured. “Why are you so pissed right now?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Ice snarled. “Could be because I don’t appreciate being treated like a fucking stud, available to perform for anyone who asks for it.”
“Then don’t act like one.”
Black was stronger and a better fighter, always had been, so Ice knew he’d lose but still raised a hand and prepared to hit his twin as hard as he could, anywhere he could.
“Don’t even think about it,” Black murmured with a small grin. “Think about what I’m saying instead.”
“The fuck?”
“You don’t want to be known as the local lay, then take a step back and don’t sleep with anyone for a while.”
“Why the hell would I not –”
“Can’t keep your dick in your pants?” Black asked and raised his chin slightly.
Ice got that he was being taunted but couldn’t stop himself.
“Of course, I can,” he barked. “Credit me with some goddamned control.”
“A hundred bucks says you can’t last a month.”
What the hell? Was his brother making a bet that he could go one month without having a woman? He’d already just done that. Several months, actually, which was something he had no plans to tell the grinning moron in front of him.
“You’re on,” he heard himself say, cursing silently for letting Black drag him into something that likely would prove to be stupid.
Again.
“Great,” Black said gleefully. “You stay here. No woman. Jerk off as much as you like, just don’t tell me.”
Ice couldn’t hold back a sudden snort of laughter. Why the hell would he tell anyone about that?
“Well, shit,” he said when Black held his hand out but shook it to confirm that the bet was on. “Going to bed.”
“Enjoy,” Black grunted, and turned to walk back inside, but not fast enough to hide the smug grin on his goddamned face.
When Ice leaned back on his pillows, he snorted out laughter again and slid a hand over his belly, knowing that he totally would enjoy. It would really not be any problems at all to go without a woman for a few weeks. Lately, he’d anyway come harder using his own hand than from any of the practiced moves of the women he usually hooked up with. He knew most of the women in Rogan, didn't feel particularly inclined to engage in activities with any of them, and was pretty certain the sentiment was mutual. It was also off-season, which meant the lodge would be empty.
Yeah, he thought as he widened his legs and started moving his hand. It wouldn’t be a problem to make a hundred easy bucks off his brother.
Not a problem at all.
Chapter Two
Just pick one
Reena
“Welcome,” Cassandra said with a happy smile. “Please call me Cas, and you’re our only guest right now because it’s really off-season, but I warned you about that.”
“I know,” I said. “I just wanted to get away for a while to relax, so that suits me just fine. I’ve got boots and good clothes, so I won’t mind the weather.”
“It’s good today, though,” Cas said with a nod toward the blue sky outside. “Forecast says it’ll stay that way for a few more days, but we might get snow after that.”
“Already?”
“It’s not very likely, but it happens they tell me,” she said with a shrug. “Did you have a good drive? Will your family join you later?”
Oh. Cas was clearly trying to find out more about me, but I didn’t mind. I was there to figure out what her family was like, so in a way, it made me feel better that she tried to snoop a little.
“It’s just me. My son is all grown up and working down in Colorado right now.”
I still hadn’t gotten used to not wearing my rings, and even less to refer to myself as single, so I didn’t mention the absent Harry, but since he wasn’t standing next to me, I figured she’d understand.
“Right,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sorry to ask, but I need some kind of identification. Driver’s license?”
“Sure,” I said and handed it over. Cas looked at it for a few seconds and handed it back. “Yeah. State regulations, we have to ask.”
It was a lodge owned by a motorcycle club, located far away from just about everything, so I was a bit surprised by her asking, but it wasn’t as if the details on my license were secrets, so I didn’t mind.
“Not a problem,” I murmured as I tucked my wallet into the backpack I’d decided would be better than my old and quite frankly pretty ugly purse.
“Hey there,” a deep voice called out. “You’re here to learn how to drive a motorcycle?”
Black walked through the door, and I turned with a wide smile. His dark gaze was intense and probably a little scary to a lot of people, but there was a strength in him that I found incredibly comforting. It was a little worrying because I wasn’t sure what it might mean that I’d felt such a connection to this man already from the start.
“Not this time,” I said casually. “It's the wrong season for it, isn’t it?”
“Never the wrong season to be on a bike,” he said with a grin and slid his hand briefly over Cas’.
“Yes, there is,” she snapped, and turned to me. “We went out last weekend, and I felt like a popsicle when we got back. He might go as much as he likes,” she twitched her head to indicate Black, “I’m waiting until spring.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said with a nod. “I’ll come back then, and we’ll see about driving lessons.”
I didn’t tell her that if I wanted to drive a motorcycle, then my son could teach me, or how he would be ecstatic if I showed even a tiny bit of interest which I hadn’t so far.
“Hey,” a tall, pale woman said and put a key on the desk. “I checked, and the corner room is all set up.”
“Thanks, Janie,” Cas said and gave the woman a smile. “Head on home now, I bet Marisha is itching to get out of the house for a while.”
“She’s studying,” Janie said. “She decided she wants to be a nurse, and she has a lot of catching up to do.”
“A nurse?” Black asked. “Good choice, or what do you say, Corinne?”
“Everyone calls me Reena,” I said, “And yes, I’d say it’s an excellent choice. She could start out as a nurse’s aide and see how she feels, and then move on from there.”
I knew what it was like to not have money for tuitions, and if the girl’s mother was the housekeeper or cleaning lady at a small lodge, it might be difficult for her to manage even community college.
“We,” Janie cut herself off and restarted, “We don’t know exactly.”
“I did a lot of research for myself way back when,” I heard myself say. “I’m here for a couple of weeks, tell her to come by and see me if she wants to. It probably changed a bit, but I still might be able to give her some pointers.”
“Really?” Janie asked with a look of such profound relief in her eyes that I had to swallow.
“Totally,” I said. “I’d like that.”
“Okay, yes. Thanks, I’ll... thank you,” the woman rambled as she turned and walked away, calling out a goodbye over her shoulder.
“That was nice of you,” Black murmured.
“I had no one to help me,” I said calmly. “I know how daunting it can be to figure it all out and I meant it. I’d be happy to help.”
“Still nice,” he said with a grin that turned into a scowl when someone outside shouted his name repeatedly. “What in the fucking hell now?” he growled and disappeared on a half run.
“Sorry about the language,” Cas sighed. “Black is... yeah. Won’t be the last time you hear f-bombs drop around here.”
“I don’t mind. I’ve also been perfectly incapable of teaching my son any alternative words.”
“There are alternative words?”
“Not really,” I said and had to make a small face. “Ding-darned doesn’t have the same... panache, does it?”
Our eyes met, and we burst out laughing at the thought of Black, or any man of his type, using that expression.
“So,” Cas said when we’d calmed down. “You’re in room four, second floor, turn right, and it’s the door at the end. Are you sure you won’t mind being alone in the house at night?”
“Of course not,” I murmured and listened as she explained how to reach her and about keys to the front door. “Is there a place close by where I can get something to eat?” I asked when she trailed off.
“Are you picky?”
I wasn’t, but even more than that, I was desperate for food.
“Not in any way.”
“The bar across the street has a couple of excellent burger-options, decent fries. Pretty awful Caesar salad, but their soup is usually quite good, and Ronnie’s brownies are to die for.”
“Any brownies are to die for in my book,” I said calmly and leaned down to pick up my backpack. “They’re a staple in my diet.”
“You don’t look like it,” she said with a small wave up and down in front of me.
“I didn’t get much from my parents, but I have to give them this; they gave me the metabolism of a racehorse,” I said with a practiced smile.
I didn’t like talking about my parents, mostly because I had no memories of them, but she just nodded and said, “Well, good for you.”
Then I walked up the stairs to put my bags in a room decorated in what only could be described as country wholesome, washed my hands, and went right back down the stairs to get some dinner, decent or not.
***
One hamburger, two portions of fries, two brownies, and a couple of beers later, I felt good.
“You must be the devil,” the woman behind the bar growled. “A she-devil sent here to torment us.”
She had introduced herself as Ronnie, and her growl was kind of scary but also accompanied by a smile in her eyes.
“Huh?” I said with a grin and put my empty beer bottle down.
Cas burst out laughing and dipped one of her fries into a weird mix of ketchup and mayo she’d stirred together on her plate.
“I eat half a burger and look at the fries and immediately gain five pounds,” Ronnie informed me sourly.
“Ouch,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t lean over the bar and punch me, which she looked perfectly capable of doing.
“Heck, yeah,” she muttered and walked off to pour a beer for an enormous man with more tattoos than I’d ever seen on anyone before.
It had been a surprisingly nice evening. Cas walked in to sit down next to me just as I got my food, and the bar wasn’t empty but not in any way busy either, so Ronnie spent most of her time leaning on the bar in front of us while we ate.
They were relaxed and friendly, and there was that odd feeling of a connection again. We talked about Cassandra's injuries, Ronnie's recurring plumbing issues, and my garden. The weather. Working your way through college like Cas had done and babysitting issues. How we hated tequila and loved red wine. I had lots of acquaintances but no close female friends, and as we laughed together, I wondered why I hadn't made an effort to connect with my colleagues or the people in my hiking group.
“Isn’t Black coming?” Ronnie asked.
“Later,” Cas mumbled around another handful of fries. “Something about a suspension or pension or whatever and then he had club business to deal with, but he’ll be here. A couple of the Graws were coming in, so they might be here too.”
“Graws?” I asked.
“Graws MC,” Ronnie said. “A club that is not one of the good ones. The men are decent enough, but they do tons of shit you do not want to know about. I’d stay far away from them if I were you.”
“Okay,” I said with a shrug. “Not a problem, and they’re not going to want to talk to me anyway.”
They both burst out laughing, and I raised my brows.
“Oh,” Cas said. “You weren’t joking?”
“No?”
“Sweetie, they’re gonna be all over you.”
Um, what?
“They... why?” I mumbled.
“Hello?” Ronnie snorted. “Biker boys like cheerleadery types and you've got that girl next door cutesy thing going in a big way.”
I blinked and wondered if Ronnie perhaps needed a pair of glasses. Or five.
I had minimal make-up on my face and had pulled my hair back. I was in a pair of jeans which were low-slung but not particularly tight and a tee I’d gotten when Toby and I went skiing in Steamboat.
And I was forty-seven.
There weren’t all that many forty-seven-year-old cheerleaders, or at least, that’s what I assumed.
“Huh,” I said mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say.
“There’s no need to worry about the Graws, Reena,” Cas said reassuringly. “Black and the boys will tell them to fuck off, and they might fight a little, but they like doing that so no one will mind.”
“Okay,” I said, again unsure of what to say.
Perhaps I should tell them that I worked out quite a bit and was pretty good at defending myself?
“That’s a lot of hair you’ve got there,” Ronnie said, waving her hand to indicate the messy bun held in place by a simple rubber band at the nape of my neck. “Is it long?”
“A bit past my shoulders, but it’s kind of curly, so it’s big and gets in the way. I should cut it off, I guess, but you know... I kind of like it.”
“Then you should keep it.”
Like the whole evening, everything seemed easy and straightforward with these women. If I liked my hair long, then I just should keep it; it wasn’t harder than that, apparently.
From there, our conversation moved on to cover Cas’ daughter, which led to her asking about my family. I tried to be evasive, but Ronnie leaned over the bar, looked pointedly at my finger where there were no rings, and raised her brows.
“Hubby?” she said, which I interpreted to be a question about my marital status.
“I left my husband a while back,” I heard myself say, and since they kept looking at me without judgment, I decided to share a bit more. “It was a long time coming, and I filed the papers pretty much immediately. Harry didn’t contest it, and he talked to someone, so we got it done quickly.”
“Divorce is no fun,” Cas said when I stopped talking.
“Amen to that,” Ronnie snapped, and there were suddenly three shot glasses in front of us.
I’d had shots in my life. Not many because it wasn’t something Harry served his friends, and when I was in college, I was also the mother of a small child, but I’d been to bars with my colleagues at the hospital.
“Okay, although someone might have to carry me over to the lodge later,” I said, but I was mostly joking.
“Plenty of boys here to do that.”
We drank the shots, and the way the liquor burned down my throat felt really, really good. I wasn’t going to have more and already felt alcohol running through my veins in a small buzz, but that felt good too.
“Divorced three times myself,” Ronnie said with a quick glance at Cas. “Number one was so godawful it took me years to get back on my feet. The second I barely noticed and the third felt fantastic, so I partied for a month straight...” She gave me a pointed look and asked, “So, Reena, which one is yours like?”
