Willa’s eyes wildly flew to Drake who was staring at her in bemusement at her flustered behavior.
“Uh … That’s right.” Jace and Cal’s faces had lit up with excitement before Drake crushed their burgeoning hopes. “Of course, now after this lame-ass stunt, I wouldn’t buy him a secondhand tricycle to ride.”
Their disappointment provided Drake with the opportunity to punish them more effectively than she would be able to Sissy. She never asked Willa for anything. The only thing Sissy would let Willa provide her with was food and a bed. Anything extra she needed was provided by an allowance from her mother’s insurance money, and Sissy kept track of every penny in the account.
From the men’s expressions, they knew she was lying. She had deliberately made a fool of herself to protect someone else, which Willa didn’t regret. Everyone thought she was useless unless she was baking, anyway. She was just proving them right.
Lucky’s eyes narrowed on her as she wiped her clammy hands on the side of her jeans. His gaze lowered to the tight jeans she had thrown on when Drake had told her about Sissy. The top she had on was an older, pink one that had faded from numerous washings. She always wore it when she was baking. The buttons were strained at the breasts, threatening to pop at any second.
Becoming even more embarrassed at her appearance, she focused on the stranger with them and almost lost what little composure she had left. The biker was tall and muscular through his chest, tapering down to a lean waist that Willa was sure had a six-pack of abs hidden behind his T-shirt. His wavy, brown hair and finely chiseled features would have made him too pretty if not for the square jaw and the dangerous aura that clung to him.
Willa wasn’t the only one having a hard time keeping her eyes off him. Sissy’s gaze was glued to him, too.
“Ready, Drake? I need to get home.” She needed to get the hormone-riddled teenage girl away from the bikers. They were even affecting Willa, and she was older.
Wishing she had the courage to act like one of The Last Rider women, Willa did what any sane Christian woman would do—she fled.
“I’m ready.” Drake moved to the side, motioning for her to go in front of him.
Willa started for the door, somehow bumping into Lucky, though she could have sworn she had left more distance between them. Her nipples hardened behind the thin shirt.
When Rider nearly tripped over a chair rushing to open the door for her, she gave him a smile yet didn’t stop until she reached Drake’s car. The teenagers followed reluctantly, not wanting to leave the presence of the bikers.
Cal and Jace both admired the motorcycles sitting in the parking lot, while Sissy was in la-la-land. Willa could imagine the teenage fantasies going through her mind, picturing herself on the back of one of the motorcycles with her arms wrapped around one of the good-looking men. Willa knew because she’d had a few of those fantasies herself. For Sissy, though, those fantasies had a possibility of becoming a reality in the future. For Willa, not so much.
The most hurtful insult she had ever been given to her had been from Sissy’s mother when she had said her fat ass was too big for a motorcycle. She had wanted to burst into tears from the remark; instead, Willa had never allowed herself to fantasize again. She kept her feet and mind planted in reality. Fantasies were for women who didn’t wear a size eighteen on a good day and a twenty when it wasn’t.
The car ride was silent to her house, each lost in their own thoughts. Willa tried to determine the best way to deal with Sissy and came up blank. When Drake pulled the car to a stop in the driveway, Sissy jumped out.
Drake’s “good luck” sounded in her ears as she rushed after her.
Mrs. Stevens opened the door, and Sissy barged past her. Willa took the time to thank her then waited for her to leave before going upstairs to knock on Sissy’s door.
“Go away!”
Willa didn’t want to wake the rest of the children. Leaning her forehead against the door, she admitted defeat for now.
“Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” She kept her voice low.
Hearing no response, Willa went into her room, sinking down on the side of her bed. Then she buried her face in her hands and let the tears of frustration, hurt, and anger escape. When the last of her tears were spent, she lay back on her comforter.
“God, I thought I could do this without any help, but I was wrong. Anything you could do to help, I would appreciate.” Her swollen eyes closed in exhaustion then opened quickly. “And if there was any way to make Sissy like me, I’ll never miss church again.”
*
“That sweet piece of ass live in town?” Moon asked, still staring at the door Rider was watching Willa through.
Lucky’s teeth ground together, leaving Rider to answer his question.
“Yeah.”
“And you fuck-wads haven’t brought her into the club?”