Tin Queen Read online

  “Why the queen and not a king?” I asked again, raising my gaze.

  His pretty brown eyes were waiting. They were lighter than mine, most people’s were, the color of toffee and chocolate swirls. Maybe the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen.

  “It’s from something my father said.”

  His father. Neal Stone.

  A murderer.

  “He told me that a king was nothing without his queen. That the two most important cards in a deck were the ace and the queen. You want the ace up your sleeve. And you need the queen at your back because women fight dirty.”

  A smile stretched across my face and I couldn’t help but laugh. I’d laughed on Monday night, too, after I’d forced myself out of his bed. It was a laugh that said he had no idea what he was getting into.

  Maybe neither of us did.

  “Did you want a drink?” Emmett asked, bending low enough for me to catch a whiff of his spicy scent. “Or should we skip it?”

  “Do you really think I came here for their cocktails?”

  He grinned, then stood from his stool.

  I did the same, following him to his house and smiling the entire way.

  The ace and the queen.

  Oh, yes. Women fought dirty, especially this one.

  The queen who’d shove her knife into his back.

  Chapter Four

  Emmett

  “That should do it.” With my wrench in hand, I slid out from beneath the sink at one of my rental properties.

  “Thank you, Emmett,” Tera said, tucking a lock of blond hair behind her ear.

  “No problem.” I stood and swiped my hands on my jeans.

  The kitchen faucet had sprung a leak this evening. Tera had shut the water off and called a plumber, but since it was almost six, they would have charged her double for an after-hours call, so she’d decided to wait until the morning.

  I wouldn’t have even known about the leak had I not come over to Mom’s for dinner. I’d parked my bike in Mom’s driveway and the moment I’d cut the engine, Tera’s daughter, Maggie, had rushed over from where she’d been playing in her yard next door. She’d been the one to tell me about the sink.

  “You can always call me, Tera.”

  “I hate to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother. It’s my responsibility to fix things like this.”

  “Well . . . thank you. Sorry to interrupt your night.”

  I waved it off. “Don’t apologize. Just call me.”

  “Okay.” She nodded and the last bits of stress on her face disappeared.

  Tera was a single mom who worked as a teacher at the elementary school. She was new in town, having moved here three months ago. Timing had been on my side because I’d just bought this place from the previous owners, an older couple who’d lived next door to Mom my entire life. Mr. and Mrs. Henderson had retired and relocated to New Mexico. When Mom had told me they were moving, I’d offered to buy this house before they’d put it on the market.

  It was a nice house and the Hendersons had taken good care of it over the years. A smart and reasonable investment. But mostly I’d bought it to control who lived next door to Mom.

  As far as renters and neighbors went, I couldn’t have dreamed up better than Tera.

  If she decided to buy a home in Clifton Forge, I’d probably offer to sell her this house before letting her leave the neighborhood. Not only was it nice to have someone I trusted next door to my mother, but Mom had officially deemed Maggie her adopted granddaughter.

  Since it was unlikely she’d ever get grandchildren from me, having Maggie filled that hole.

  “I’d better go rescue your mom from Maggie,” Tera said, leading the way to the front door.

  “Think it’s the other way around.”

  She smiled over her shoulder. The freckles dusting her nose and cheeks were darker than they had been at the beginning of the summer. Her blue eyes sparkled as we stepped outside and into the evening sun.

  “Ready for the school year?” I asked as we crossed the driveway to Mom’s.

  “Yeah, I think so. I’ve got my classroom set up and the faculty has been wonderful. Everyone’s been so welcoming.”

  “Kindergarten?”

  She nodded. “Yep. Good memory.”

  Not really. Tera had only told me once that she was teaching kindergarten, but Mom mentioned it every time Tera’s name came up. Along with any other fact about Tera that she thought might encourage me to ask Tera on a date.

  Yeah, Tera was a beautiful woman and yeah, her kid was cute as a button. But Tera needed a man who was in it for the long haul. A man who’d step up to be Maggie’s father. A man who’d make vows and give her more children.

  I was not that man.

  Maybe ten years ago I would have dived into the family lifestyle headfirst, but I was inching closer to forty and was content with life as it was.

  We were in the middle of Mom’s yard when her door opened and a little blond bolt streaked outside, racing toward Tera.

  “Mommy!” Maggie crashed into Tera’s legs. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I asked Cherie if we could stay for dinner and she said yes.”

  “Oh, honey.” Tera’s eyes widened. “Remember what we talked about? You can’t invite yourself.”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” Mom said as she came our way. “I was going to offer anyway. I made too much.”

  Mom always made too much. She’d send leftovers home with me even though she knew I could cook for myself.

  “We, um . . .” Tera looked to me, clearly not wanting to intrude.

  “Stay. Mom’s chicken parm is the best in town.”

  “Yes, it is.” Mom looped one arm with mine, then another with Tera’s, sweeping us both inside.

  The dining room table was set for four people. Mom had pulled out her nice dishes from the china cabinet. When I’d come in earlier, it had only been placed for two and she’d had her everyday plates. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Mom had snuck into Tera’s place and ruined the kitchen faucet herself just to arrange for this little dinner.

  “Emmett, will you open a bottle of wine?” Mom asked.

  “Sure.” I nodded, then turned to Tera. “Red or white?”

  “I’m not picky.”

  “Okay.” I looked down at Maggie. “Lemonade, orange pop or 7-Up?”

  “Orange.” She gave me the same cute, shy smile I got whenever I came over.

  Maggie hadn’t quite warmed up to me yet but we were making progress. Mostly I think it was my height and size that intimidated kids—and some adults.

  “Orange it is.” I winked at her and went to the garage fridge where Mom kept most of her beverages. I chose a bottle of chardonnay because it was Mom’s favorite, then an orange pop for Maggie.

  By the time I had glasses poured, Mom was bringing the food to the table. No surprise, she insisted I sit beside Tera. She took the place beside Maggie, said grace, then we dug in while it was hot.

  “This is delicious, Cherie,” Tera said.

  I nodded. “Great meal.”

  “It’s his favorite,” Mom told Tera. “I have to make it at least once a month so that he comes to visit me.”

  I took another bite and swallowed a retort. I swung by Mom’s place at least once a week, though if she had it her way, it would be daily.

  “He’s always so busy,” Mom added.

  “With your rental properties?” Tera asked.

  “That and work. I’m a mechanic at the Clifton Forge Garage.”

  “More than a mechanic.” Mom raised her fork. “He builds custom motorcycles and restores classic cars.”

  “Interesting,” Tera said. “I was actually just thinking I needed to get my oil changed. I haven’t had it done since we moved here. Does your garage do that?”

  “We do. Bring it on down.”

  “And maybe you can give her a tour of the shop.” The gleam in my mother’s eyes was not subtle.

  We’
d have a conversation later tonight about matchmaking. “It’s just a shop, but sure.”

  “Did you know that Maggie is starting kindergarten?” Mom asked.

  “Kindergarten was my favorite,” I said, earning a blush as Maggie chewed. She had Tera’s freckles and blue eyes. I wasn’t sure what the story was with her father, but I was sure that Mom would get it in due time.

  The rest of the meal went much like the beginning, Mom telling Tera about me and me about Tera. Until finally she brought out a mud pie and sliced me a piece so large that I’d have to spend an extra hour in my home gym tomorrow morning.

  That, or stop by The Betsy and see if I could find my mystery woman for a late-night workout.

  Just the thought of her made my dick twitch so I shoved her face from my thoughts, focusing on the food, my mother and her guests.

  “This was incredible,” Tera said, standing from the table to clear the empty dishes.

  “I’ll get it.” I stood too, taking her plate and Maggie’s. After three trips, I had the dining room cleared and got to work stowing leftovers and handwashing the china.

  Mom and I had an unspoken agreement about the dishes. When she cooked, I washed. It had been that way since I’d moved out after high school. Those days, she’d cooked for me on a fairly regular basis, mostly because the food at the clubhouse was hit or miss. Then after Dad had died, I’d come over under the guise of dinner but really it had been to check on her. And for her company.

  With the dishes done, I returned to the dining room table with another bottle of wine, refilling Mom’s glass.

  “Tera?” I asked.

  “No, thank you.” She stood from her chair. “We’d better get going. Thank you again for dinner, Cherie.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “And thanks again for fixing the sink,” Tera said.

  “Happy to. Call if it starts leaking again.”

  “I will.” Tera moved to Maggie, taking her hand.

  Then Mom escorted them out of the house while I settled into my chair once more, filling my own wineglass.

  I took a long drink of the dry, cool liquid, waiting for Mom and the inevitable lecture about my lonely life.

  “That was lovely.” She swept into the dining room and her chair. “That Tera sure is pretty, don’t you think?”

  “She is.”

  “And such a sweetheart. Maggie is the most precious thing.”

  I hummed. Maggie was cute but she had nothing on Leo’s daughter, Seraphina, or Genevieve and Isaiah’s daughter, Amelia. Though I was biased.

  “Did you know that Tera teaches kindergarten?”

  “You’ve mentioned it.” No less than ten times.

  “She made me chocolate chip cookies. Did I tell you that? Last weekend.”

  “Did she?”

  “They were excellent. Maybe better than my own.”

  I took another sip of wine, fighting a grin.

  Mom was nothing if not obvious. “She’s new in town. Maybe you should ask her out to dinner.”

  And there it was. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s my tenant.”

  “Pfft. Who cares?”

  “Me.”

  Mom narrowed her gaze. “Is it because of Maggie?”

  “No. Of course not.” It wasn’t that I didn’t like kids. I just doubted I’d have any of my own at this point in my life. Besides, I was perfectly fine being Uncle Emmett to my friends’ kids.

  “Then what is it?” Mom asked.

  “Tera is just not for me.”

  “She’s too pretty and smart?”

  No, Tera was too pure.

  But that was not something I’d be sharing with my mother.

  Being so new to town, I doubted Tera had heard much about me or my past. But it was only a matter of time. Tera didn’t seem the sort who’d get involved with a former member of a motorcycle club.

  And even if that didn’t bother her, she was not the woman in my head.

  No, my mind was consumed with a pair of coffee-colored eyes and silky umber hair.

  My mystery woman had been on my mind all week, and though telling Mom I’d met someone would get her off my back about Tera, this was not the type of relationship I’d share with my mother.

  “Anything exciting happening?” I asked Mom, ready to change the subject.

  She frowned but went along with it. “Yes, actually. I started cleaning out your father’s side of the garage.”

  I blinked, replaying her statement to make sure I’d heard it right. “Oh.”

  “It’s time, Emmett. It’s time to put things away.”

  Time? Fifty years could pass and it still wouldn’t be enough time. My throat tightened. “Do you, um . . . need help?” Say no.

  She gave me a sad smile. “Only if you want to help.”

  No, I did not. Dinner churned in my stomach. I wasn’t ready for this conversation. It had been years, over a decade since Dad had been murdered, but I still wasn’t ready. And during all that time, I’d been sure Mom hadn’t been ready either. Dad’s things had been in the garage for that long, and to my knowledge, she hadn’t touched them.

  “Why now?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not getting any younger, son. I don’t want you to deal with this when we’re both gone.”

  I was out of my chair before she could finish her sentence. “I gotta go.”

  “Emmett—”

  “I’ll think on Dad’s stuff.” I spoke over my shoulder, already heading for the door. The walls were closing in on me, and I needed some air.

  Mom followed, standing in the doorway as I straddled my bike, shoved a pair of sunglasses over my face and roared away.

  I’d text her later but what I needed at the moment was the road.

  Why would she spring this stuff about Dad on me tonight? What was going on with her? She wasn’t that old. Was she sick?

  Maybe I’d have answers if I hadn’t raced out of her house.

  Shit. She’d worry, so I rode to the closest gas station and pulled over to shoot her a quick text.

  Sorry. Caught me off guard.

  Her reply was instant. It’s okay. Love you.

  Love you too.

  I tucked my phone away and filled up the bike since I was here. And when I returned to the road, the grip of panic had loosened its hold. The sun was warm and night still hours off, so I took advantage and rode around town.

  My first route was past the garage, making sure that the thick chain around the gates was secured. For years, we’d left the lot open but after all the shit that had happened with Leo these past few months—that son of a bitch Tucker Talbot’s nephew staging accidents in the hopes of taking Leo out—we’d started locking up.

  There were cameras mounted on the exterior of the building and I’d added motion sensors just about everywhere. At least twice a week an animal set them off at night, but thanks to the cameras, I could check both the lot and inside of the shop from my phone.

  We’d installed new floodlights that would flicker on after dark and if someone managed to break in, Dash and I would be alerted immediately.

  If the Warriors or their family members were going to come after us, they’d have to be at the top of their game. Considering their major players were all in custody, I liked our odds.

  We were being careful, making sure that the women and kids didn’t go anywhere alone. And I made time to do whatever sleuthing I could online. Sometimes all it took was checking a person’s social media feed or text messages. Most loved to overshare.

  Every morning I checked my alerts. Hacking had been a longtime hobby, another escape and a skill I’d put to use for the club. A skill I was still putting to use.

  There were a few Warriors who were not in jail or already convicted and in prison. Some had been released on bond as they awaited their trial. Those members were mostly in Ashton, but I checked their bank accounts and credit cards daily to ensure there was no sign of a trip to Clifton For
ge.

  Beyond them, there were known relatives of the Warriors, though that list wasn’t as accurate as I would have liked. Hell, we hadn’t even considered Tucker Talbot’s nephew a threat because he hadn’t had any connection to his club.

  But that hadn’t stopped Doug Hamilton from trying to kill Leo.

  So I watched family too, especially Tucker Talbot’s ex-wife and two daughters. Thankfully, they were exactly where they should be—South Carolina.

  The Arrowhead Warriors had been our enemies for what felt like my entire life. After an FBI raid at their clubhouse over a year ago, their gang had been shut down, but that didn’t necessarily erase a threat.

  Their president was a ruthless son of a bitch.

  Tucker Talbot was currently serving three consecutive life sentences in prison but that didn’t mean he didn’t have ties to the outside world. And obviously he blamed us for his club’s ultimate demise—even though the paranoid motherfucker had kept video evidence on his members that was more useful to the FBI than any evidence the Tin Gypsies could have produced.

  I wasn’t going to try and make sense of that bastard’s thoughts. All I could do was put up the best guard I could manage and pray to God no one slipped through the cracks.

  That we didn’t have another nephew come to Clifton Forge to exact Tucker’s revenge.

  On paper, Doug Hamilton hadn’t appeared to have anything to do with his uncle. Still, he’d come after Leo. Doug had failed but Tucker would find another pawn.

  Maybe if we held him off long enough, he’d run out of toadies. Hell, maybe one of his own brothers, a Warrior who Tucker had damned to prison with his video footage, would do the world a favor and shiv the fucker between the ribs.

  A man could hope.

  Until then, we prepared. Maybe Tucker’s daughters would prove to be a threat. Maybe it would be another Warrior’s family who came after us. All we could do was keep our eyes open and pray we saw the threat before it was too late.

  Leaving the garage, I rode toward another one of my rentals across town. I didn’t stop, only took it in from the outside to see that the lawn had been mowed.

  It was a two-bedroom house occupied by an older bachelor who worked at the fire department. The windows were dark and his truck was missing from the driveway, probably because he was on a long shift at the station. Another dream renter who took care of the place like it was his own and never missed a rent check.