So Steady: Silver Daughters Ink, Book Two (Silver Daughters Ink Book Two) Read online

  “Really?” Delight overtook her features, making her so pretty, it hurt. The sensation unstuck something inside him.

  “Liked you the moment I saw you.”

  “That day in the studio? But I was such a bitch!”

  He shrugged. “You didn’t like the look of me, but you were honest about it. Your instincts were right, anyway. I’m scum.”

  She swatted him again. “No, you’re not, and I wasn’t thinking that when I first saw you. I was thinking…” Her shoulders crept toward her ears.

  He grinned. “What?”

  “I didn’t expect you to be so…much.”

  He felt that right in his chest. He knew exactly what she meant. He reached out, pressed his hand into her lower back. She came to him easily and when he bent down, she closed her eyes, tilting her lips to him. Kissing her wasn’t like kissing anyone else. It was like returning to a place you loved. The beach. The forests. His heart was thumping in his ears, his chest; every inch of his skin. This girl, this fucking girl. He wrapped his arms around her back. Her skin was too cold, her body vibrating as though it was thriving on energy alone. He wanted to touch her all over, but it wasn’t sexual exactly. He wanted to feed her; give her what she needed to be okay again. But as he closed himself around her, she shifted, pulling away.

  “Sorry,” she said, her eyes glistening. “But you see what I mean, right? You’re too much. We’re too much.”

  Noah didn’t know what to say. He could feel her about to leave and knew he wouldn’t be able to stop her.

  “I should go,” she said right on cue. “Tabby will be wondering where I am.”

  “Okay. We still on for tomorrow?”

  “Of course.” She straightened the hem of her t-shirt. “I’ll, um, pack my bags, come over in the morning?”

  “Sure. Text me the time.”

  Nicole nodded, then rocked on her toes like a diver hesitating on the springboard.

  The back of his neck prickled. “Just go if you want. Don’t worry about me.”

  But she didn’t turn and leave. Instead, she rushed forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Noah. I like you and yes…thank you and bye!”

  Then she turned on her heels and rushed away as swiftly as she’d come. Noah pressed a hand to his cheek, replaying the rosebud brush of her mouth.

  Jesus Christ, he was fucked.

  Chapter 13

  The sun was kissing the horizon as Nicole snuck down the hallway. She was barefoot for maximum quietude, hugging her overnight bag to her chest. She passed Sam’s room where Scott Sanderson’s snores were audible even through the wood. She tiptoed past Tabby’s door, praying none of the puppies would wake up and start howling. One foot in front of the other, easing her way across the floorboards, when her bag swung into the walls.

  “Fuck,” she said, then gasped at herself for swearing. She must be all jacked up on pre-adventure adrenaline.

  Tabby cleared her throat. “Who’s there?”

  “Me,” Nicole whispered. “Sorry, I’m just…talk later.”

  She left before Tabby could fully wake up and ask or accuse her of anything. The front door creaked, painfully loud in the quiet. Holding her breath, she slipped through the smallest possible crack and into the cool morning air. She’d made it.

  Nicole slung her bag over her left shoulder, feeling absurdly pleased with herself. The morning was bright, promising. She crossed the street, wondering if Noah was up and about or if he was still lying in the bed where he’d screwed her brains out. Her stomach turned in a strange little spiral.

  Stop it, she chided herself. This isn’t about that. He’s doing you a favor.

  And she wasn’t wearing makeup…though she had shaved, smoothed toning SPF primer over her face, and spritzed herself with Miss Dior. But that didn’t count. They were going to spend hours and hours in the car, smelling nice was just polite. She’d blown her chances with the ‘do me…no wait, stop…keep going…stop…wait, keep going.’ Not to mention showing up at his house asking about destiny and whether he liked her. She shuddered at the memory. What was next—asking him to hold her hand and walk around Brunswick Shopping Center? She needed to be much, much more grown up about this situation, and she would be. But as she walked the frost-lashed streets, she decided to let herself be excited about going on a road trip with him for as long as it lasted. Let a good thing be a good thing.

  Noah wasn’t still in bed. She spotted him from up the street, moving things around in the back of his van. The sight of him made her chest contract. She paused, unsure how to approach, but he turned and caught sight of her. “You escaped.”

  She smiled. “Barely.”

  “The dogs catch you?”

  “Tabby.”

  His quiet laugh made her knees feel like spaghetti. He hardly made a sound, but his shoulders shook and his face made that fascinating shift from stern to beautiful.

  “What now?” she said, her voice far too high.

  “Gimmie your bag.”

  She handed it over and he eased it into the back of the van and closed the door. “Let’s go.”

  “Sure, can I use your bathroom first?” She didn’t need to go, but she did want to see that quince painting again. And the ocean one.

  Noah blanched. “Can you wait until we’re on the road?”

  He sounded odd. Edgy.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, we should just get going.”

  It was hard to believe him. Nicole scanned the surroundings, looking for whatever had shifted his mood so suddenly. Was he hiding some girl he didn’t want her to see? She caught sight of his front door, saw the black marks that had been smudged across it. “Oh my god, what happened?”

  Noah swore. “Get in the van, Nikki.”

  But she walked toward the door, squinting, trying to work out what the smudges were—soot? Garbage? When it clicked, she felt like an idiot. It was spray paint; someone had tagged Noah’s house. She turned her head to the side, trying to work out what the biggest graffiti scrawl said. When she did, she gasped from the sheer ugliness of it. Horrified, she whirled on Noah. “Who did this?”

  He rubbed his forehead so hard it was like he was trying to smudge his hand tattoos. “Get in the van.”

  “Stop saying that and talk to me. Are you in trouble? Is it the…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘The Rangers’, and that was just, as well. At the mere implication, Noah opened his eyes.

  “I’m not talking about it here.” He opened the passenger door, his jaw set, his pupils like pinpricks. Nicole was about to comply when she noticed his windows, or rather, the lack of them. All four frames had been taped up.

  “Did you get robbed?”

  He sighed. “What do you think?”

  He was utterly serious, but Nicole had the strangest urge to mess with him. Which was weird because she never felt like messing with anyone. She put her hands on her hips. “What if it was me? What if I did it?”

  There was a short pause. Noah glanced at the sky, shaking his head as though asking God why this was happening. Nicole could tell he was trying not to smile.

  “I could have done it,” she said. “I’m mysterious.”

  “Sure,” he said, but the warmth had returned to his voice. “C’mon, Nikki, I mean it. Let’s get out of here.”

  Despite her joke, silence fell when Noah got behind the wheel. Nicole couldn’t understand it, sure someone had written ‘dog cunt’ on his door, but he hadn’t been mad when she showed up. He’d been mad when she noticed it. He’d been trying to protect her or something. They travelled across the empty streets of Brunswick and toward the city without a word. She wanted to ask him if he knew the way to Adelaide—he didn’t have his phone open on a GPS app—but thought that might insult his biker heritage.

  They crossed the Bolte Bridge and Nicole had to bite her tongue to keep from talking about how pretty it was. The sun was climbing steadily, washing the Melbourne’s CBD in golden light. The skysc
rapers always looked so clean and colourful from this angle, framed against a periwinkle blue sky. She looked out at the concrete flats of South Warf, the gleaming Rialto tower, and spotted the Estrada building where Scott and Toby worked.

  “Nice view.”

  Nicole turned, delighted. “It is nice! My dad used to drive us across the bridge just to see the city from here. I love it!”

  Too enthusiastic. Noah’s smiled dimmed a little. He didn’t reply and she didn’t press, turning her attention back to the view, the van purring around them like a four-wheel motorcycle. Noah drove well, keeping a reasonable distance between the van and other cars. She thought of Aaron stop-starting and swearing and tailgating anyone he thought had wronged him. Being in the car with Noah was soothing, like having a personal bodyguard.

  She looked across at his profile and wondered if he’d find that idea offensive. Maybe, but he didn’t have to know. He could be her bodyguard in her head, ready to protect her from Aaron and Sam and Tabby and her old friends and her old life. But her tongue didn’t seem content to keep the idea to herself. “Do they have bodyguards in bikie gangs?”

  She braced for irritation, but Noah didn’t seem offended by the question. “Sometimes, if a big boss knows someone's out to get him.”

  “Or her.” Nicole paused. “Are there female bikies?”

  Noah shook his head.

  “Is that sexist that women can’t be bikies? Should we aspire to be bikies? If there were female bikies, would the world be a better place?”

  He snorted. “Probably not.”

  Camera Obscuras, French Navy came on the radio and Nicole tapped her fingers to the fluttery beat. There were so many things to say, but as they sped along, she didn’t feel like talking. It was relaxing, moving fast but sitting still. Her breathing felt deep and medicinal. Was it Noah’s presence beside her? Or was she just happy to be gone?

  “I’ve never run away from home before,” she said. “It’s kind of exciting.”

  Noah did the little head-shake that said he was amused against his better judgement. “Glad to help.”

  “Did you ever run away from home?”

  His features twisted and she realised that was a pretty loaded question.

  “Sorry, you don’t have to answer.”

  “I know,” he said, eyes on the road. “I did, it just doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

  She wanted to ask what he meant, but decided it could wait. She and Noah had hours to get to know each other, after all. For the first time ever, she was on a trip without willing herself to already be at the destination.

  They barreled along the freeway for twenty minutes when Noah unexpectedly slowed, pulling into a small petrol station and coffee place.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “You said you needed the bathroom?”

  “Oh! That was just an excuse to see your paintings again.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Then I guess let’s just get a coffee.”

  He pulled up next to the drive through box and wound down the window. “One large latte, one medium decaf latte and four almond croissants.”

  “Sure thing!” came the crackly response. “Drive through.”

  Nicole wanted to thank him, but she was so baffled he knew her coffee, she couldn’t get the words out. They drove to the delivery window. Noah paid, handing her a bag of still-warm croissants and a takeaway coffee, wedging his own cup between his knees.

  This is the smell! she realised. The warm, spicy smell she’d been unable to make out. It was almond pastries. “How often do you come here?”

  “A lot.” He gestured for the croissants and she handed him a flaky pastry, wiping her hands on a napkin so she wouldn’t lick her fingers.

  “Two are for you,” Noah said, mouth full of croissant. “Eat one.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Her stomach growled angrily but she ignored it. Simple sugars aged your skin. They gave you cellulite, and stimulated your hunger, so you were starving twenty minutes after you finished a doughnut. Why hadn’t she made a miso bowl or cut up some carrots—

  A big hand poked her side. “Nikki, it’s a fucking croissant.”

  Something in the way he said it, like he was passing down one of life’s great truths, made her snort with laughter. “Can you read minds?”

  “I don’t need to read minds,” he said drily. “It’s all there on your face. Eat before I eat it for you.”

  He’d already finished his first one and had reached over to take a second, so it wasn’t an idle threat. She pulled a pastry from the bag. It smelt like heaven. She paused, trying to take in the moment, then she bit down. The croissant was gorgeous; crisp on the outside and buttery in the middle. It was hard not to cram the rest into her mouth.

  “Good?”

  “Yes,” Nicole said with all the dignity she could muster. She shredded a piece off, took the lid off her coffee and dipped the piece of pastry inside. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime. Your dad does that, too.”

  “What?”

  Noah’s smile was soft. “Dunks the croissants. Used to whenever I bought him one.”

  “Oh.”

  The thought of her dad and Noah eating together gave her food extra sweetness. She thought about it as they drove back out onto the road, happy she could eat quietly without worrying Noah would get offended. When she was done, she swept the crumbs into the empty bag. The van felt cozier, sweet smelling and comfortable. High on freedom, caffeine, and sugar, she stretched her arms and legs.

  “Happy?” Noah asked.

  “Yes, thanks to you.”

  He ducked his head. “No problem.”

  Nicole yawned and then the words came unbidden, dog cunt. Brunswick wasn’t known for its crime. She was positive the trashing of his house had something to do with The Rangers. There was still so much she didn’t know about Noah’s past. Full and alert, she decided to go for it. “What was it like? Growing up a biker?”

  A muscle flickered in Noah’s jaw “Shitty.”

  “In what way?”

  Nothing.

  Nicole felt like a dick. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop asking.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “But you look angry.”

  “That’s just my face.”

  “Not all the time. Not when you’re talking to me.”

  As though to prove her point, he smiled. Then he scrubbed a hand across his forehead. “Look, what do you want to know?”

  Nicole had a million questions, but she decided to go with the practical. “Are you still involved with The Rangers?”

  “No.”

  “Not even on a casual, snapchat-every-now-and-again basis?”

  His gaze was fixed on the road. “No.”

  “Then what’s the deal with your house? The spray paint and the windows?” Silence swelled between them, making her tetchy. “You said I could ask!”

  More silence. She could feel his anger. It was making his face harder, clenching his knuckles on the wheel. A thrill of fear ran down her spine. How had she forgotten that she didn’t know anything about Noah except that he did tattoos and had a criminal background? That they were practically strangers?

  “Noah...” She sounded weak, afraid. She tried again. “I didn’t mean to make you angry, but if you’re going to be like this, I want to go back to Melbourne.”

  Noah’s gaze cut across at her and for a moment she was sure he was going to yell, then he grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m sorry for going cold on you. Wasn’t fair. I told you, you could ask.”

  Nicole blinked at him. No frills. No attempt to justify his behaviour. No demand for her to forgive him. Getting an apology like that was weird. “Thank you.”

  “Do you still want to head to Adelaide?”

  She looked out at the fields rushing past. It would feel so deflating to go home without getting her things.
“Yes, please.”

  But she didn’t ask him anything else. She got out her phone and worked on the group email she planned to send to her boss and all her friends explaining her failed engagement and plans to return to Melbourne. Kim Petras sang about Hillside Boys as she added and deleted sentences, wondering whether to say Aaron had cheated, or if that would make her seem bitter.

  “Nikki?”

  She started a little at being addressed. “Yes?”

  “I don’t know who did the windows and doors, but I’m pretty sure it was my housemate’s ex. Or someone my housemate’s ex paid off.”

  “Your housemate who needed your help after we…?”

  Noah smirked, then his smile faltered. “Yeah, Paula. She’s the wife of one of my dad’s bikie mates.”

  Nicole pictured a sexy bikie blonde with big hair and heaps of tattoos. Nausea rose in her chest. “Are you…?”

  Noah shook his head. “She’s older; early fifties. More like a mum to me than anything else. She called me up, said she wanted to get out of the club’s orbit, so I let her move in for a bit. But it looks like she and Shredder have gotten back together.”

  “Shredder?”

  “Nice name, huh?”

  Nicole shook her head. “Why would she wreck your house after you helped her?”

  “Shredder wouldn’t have seen it as helping.” He turned to look at her. “I’d have helped you either way, but I’m glad to be getting out of the state for a couple of days.”

  “Oh, well, I’m glad to help.” Nicole bit her lip, remembering what he’d said about it not feeling like he’d run away from home. “Do you miss being in The Rangers?”

  Noah kept his eyes on the road. “I’d be lying if I said no.”

  Nicole twisted the hem of her t-shirt. Ever since he’d admitted he’d been in a bikie gang, she’d stopped being so scared of him, but it was unsettling to know he wanted to go back. For the first time, she wondered what he’d done while he was a member, and realised she must seem so naïve to him. A suburban girl whose only crime had been stealing a toffee cup from the school fete when she was nine.

  “But it was bullshit,” Noah said. “Every bikie gang goes on about brotherhood and loyalty, but that’s bullshit. It’s about money and scaring the shit out of people so you can do whatever you want. It’s ISIS without the politics.”