Conley (Heartlands Motorcycle Club Book 8) Read online

  Conley

  Heartlands Motorcycle Club

  Frankie Love

  Copyright © 2020 by Frankie Love

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  About

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  More Heartlands MC Romances!

  About the Author

  About

  CONLEY

  By Frankie Love

  When Calico shows up at the garage with a busted car, I know she’s in trouble.

  Her four-wheel piece of shit is filled to the brim with her and her son’s belongings. She’s running from something. From someone.

  She’s been through hell, and she’s not interested in getting involved with a biker like me.

  But she isn’t going anywhere. One look at her curves and I know she’s mine.

  I’ve been celibate for a long ass time — waiting for a real woman who stirs my heart. It’s her I’ve been waiting for.

  Getting involved with the president of a motorcycle club is the last thing this single mom wants.

  But this isn’t any MC. This is the Heartlands.

  When I discover her ex is my sworn enemy, there is nothing stopping me.

  I’ll make him pay, and then I’ll make her mine.

  Dear Reader,

  Conley is a sexy ass silver fox and Calico’s a sweetheart who is down on her luck. But once she sees what he’s packing, she’ll be begging to get down on her knees.

  There’s a twenty-five-year difference between these two — but age is just a number. True love conquers all in the Heartlands. I promise.

  xo, frankie

  The alpha males of Heartlands Motorcycle Club are the most possessive, devoted, and territorial men in the country when it comes to the ones they love.

  Heartlands is a rough and rugged new series of standalone stories. Written by four of the most trusted names in short and steamy romance, each book will get your motors revved and your hearts racing. Guaranteed.

  XO, Frankie, Dani, Olivia, and Hope

  Chapter One

  Conley

  The whole club is torn up — and with reason. After a run-in last night with the Outlaws, half the guys want to start fighting dirty, but the other half wanna keep it clean. And since I’m the president of the Heartlands Motorcycle Club, everyone is looking at me for guidance.

  We’ve gathered for a meeting in the Ride or Die bar, everyone arguing with beers in their hands.

  Maddox and Jackal are pissed. They’re the ones who took the punches last night. They’d gone out there, about a hundred miles north to Outlaw territory, trying to scout out the situation. It didn’t go well.

  “We need to fight back,” Maddox grunts. “That’s the only way they will listen.”

  I shake my head. “We’ve worked way too hard to get our club clean to fuck this up.”

  Jaxon growls. “After what I did to Gunner, they’re out for blood. They’ve already come here, tried to ruin our bar. What next? Take our families? They’ve hurt some of our women enough already.” He looks over at Saint — his wife, Cat, spent too long in the hands of our enemy before she came here, to the Heartlands.

  “I agree with Conley,” Saint says, backing me up. “Their new president, Grill, is a fucking ass, from what Cat remembers. I don’t want to deal with that shit. Not when half of us have a whole lot to lose.”

  I take in my men — so many of them wear rings, or at least a black band tattooing their promise on their ring finger. Babies on the way. Hell, there is a lot to lose. I don’t want their wives to end up as widows over fuckers like the Outlaws. No. They deserve better. We all do. That’s why I started buying up property in Seneca, cutting ties with the arms dealer we used to work with, and trading drugs for stocks.

  Not that I have the same stakes as these men. Hell, I’ve been single for a long ass time — as long as I can remember. And there may be a bunch of club whores hanging around, but they’ve never tempted me. It’s not that I don’t want to wet my whistle, but it would take a special woman to entice me. Truth is, my job as club president means I’m already committed.

  It’s time to make a tough call that I know some of the men won’t like. “For now, we are going to focus on keeping a low profile. I appreciate you boys wanting to go out there and see what they had brewing, and it’s good to know who their new prez is, but we need to focus on our own shit for now.” I run a hand over my jaw. “Let’s focus on our own businesses — and keeping Seneca safe.”

  The men nod, knowing the conversation is through, and even though it was heated, they respect me enough not to argue further. When Stella and Roxanne carry out trays 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 to look at her. “Is there someone you’d like to call to come pick you up?”

  She writes down her information, biting her lip. “Um, do you know a taxi company? I’m not from the area.”

  River snorts, rolling his eyes.

  “You need a hotel too?”

  She nods. “I saw a motel on the way in. The Highway Motel?”

  I scoff. “You can’t stay there.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not safe.”

  She lifts her eyebrows, hitching her purse on her shoulder. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  Frowning, I take her in. Determination in her eyes, strength in the way she carries herself. The words, though she be but little, she is fierce, flit through my mind. What the hell is going on? One conversation with Calico and I’m remembering Shakespeare from high school. Which was hell of a long time ago, considering I turned fifty-six this year.

  “At least let me drive you?” I say. “I’d feel better.”

  “You’re a stranger,” she says, looking me over. I know what she sees. Tattoos telling stories that would scare her, a leather vest over my white tee shirt, a parking lot full of bikes. Even if she is a tough cookie, this scene isn’t exactly the sort where reputable folks spend their weekends.

  “If I’m a stranger, what do you call a random taxi driver?”

  She smirks. “Fair enough.” Looking over at River, who is playing with a handheld video game, she tells him we’re leaving. “Conley is driving us to the motel. So let’s just grab our bags, okay?”

  He says something under his breath about how messed up this is, but she doesn’t correct him for talking back. I follow them out, and wait as they get their bags from their car. I watch as they do, noticing that the car is filled to the brim with suitcases and bags. These two are headed somewhere, and they plan on being there for a long time.

  I grab a set of keys from the shop, and lock the doors. Then I pull the SUV around and jump out to open the door for Calico.

  “Oh, thanks,” she says as I take her bags. Our fingers brush and I feel a rush run through me. Hell, it’s not something I’ve ever felt before. Deep need, a longing that starts at my goddamn heart.

  I set her bags in the trunk and slam the door shut. Wondering how the hell I’m gonna convince this woman to give me a chance.

  Chapter Two

  Calico

  In the SUV, I try to focus on the road and not the hulk of a man sitting beside me. He is insanely attractive, broad shoulders, silver flecks in his hair, eyes that sear into my heart when he looks at me. Is it crazy that I don’t want him to look away?

  Of course it is. River is the only man in my life that matters right now. And at thirteen, he needs my attention because I swear, after the last year, I feel like I’m too close to losing him. And I can’t lose him — not when I’ve already lost so much. Everything, really.

  “So where were you two headed?” Conley asks as the car pulls into the motel parking lot.

  “Oh, uh, California,” I say. Because why not? The only part I planned was packing the car and splitting town. I didn’t consider where we were going beyond the immediate need of getting away.

  “Yeah? What part?” Conley asks as he stops the car at the front lobby. He wasn’t exaggerating. The place does look sketchy. But my cash supply is limited — especially now that I’m dealing with car trouble. I can’t afford to splurge on anything nicer tonight.

  “The beach,” I say noncommittally. “Thanks for the ride.”

  River is already jumping out the car, his frustration palpable. And I don’t blame him. His father has treated him terribly and his childhood has been marred by watching his parents fight over custody for years. Now that a judge finally gave me full parental rights, his father isn’t just mad — he is pissed. And taking it out on River.

  “Can we get food?” River says as I get out of the car. “I’m starving.”

  Conley looks across the street. There’s a diner that looks popular. “I’m hungry too. Wanna grab dinner over there?”

  I twist my lips. Is this man asking us to get dinner with him?

  “Yeah. I want a burger,” River say, looking at me for an answer.

  I shrug. “Okay, let me check us in and then I guess we can go get dinner. Together…” I shake my head, not understanding Conley’s motives, but not having time to analyze them.

  In the lobby, I pay for a room, and when the clerk sees Conley with us, she swallows, looking flustered.

  “Make sure they have the room on the end, opposite the highway,” Conley says. When I look at him, wondering why, he shrugs. “Quieter, that’s all.”

  The girl at the desk gives me a key and Conley carries our luggage for us. Well, luggage is a nice way of saying tote bags and reusable grocery sacks. Once we’ve dumped the bags on one of the beds, River is out the door, ready to eat. “I’ll get us a table,” he shouts, crossing the street toward the diner before I’ve even locked the door to the room.

  Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I tell Conley he doesn’t have to eat with us.

  “What if I want to?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows. We stop at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. River is already inside the diner. I look up at Conley, his height overshadowing me. But not in a scary way — in a protective way. I have this insane desire to step closer, and he must sense it because he steps toward me.

  But then the light flashes, taking the moment from me, and it’s time to cross the street. I start to move, stepping into the road.

  A car speeds past me within an inch of my life, and I gasp as Conley instinctively grabs my hand, pulling me back. Into his arms. I pant, shocked. Looking up into his eyes, I see his expression is written with fear too.

  “Fuck,” he growls, grabbing his phone and snapping a photo of the license plate as the car drives away. “You okay, Cali?”

  Cali.

  No one besides my mother, rest her soul, called me Cali.

  “I’m okay,” I manage to say. My heart is racing, though, and I am very aware of the fact Conley’s hand is wrapped around my own. I can’t remember the last time a man held my hand like this. As if I was a precious thing, as if letting go would break something inside him.

  Swallowing, I know the truth is I have never had my hand held like this. Not once. I’m a t
hirty-one-year-old woman who has never been truly cared for.

  But God, how I long for it.

  We missed the light, and we stand in silence, hands held, waiting for it to turn once more. We don’t look at one another. I look up, into the night sky. Making a wish like I am a little girl. Not a single mom with so much on her shoulders.

  I wish for just one night to feel alive.

  The light blinks, we cross this time, and when we safely reach the other side of the road, I pull my hand back. Not wanting to confuse River more than he already is.

  Inside the diner, we all order burgers, fries, and shakes. Conley asks River what grade he is in.

  “Just finished eighth grade,” he says. “But I take my classes online. Don’t really like school all that much.”

  Conley nods, dipping a fry in ketchup as if having dinner with us is the most natural thing in the world. Meanwhile, I keep thinking about the way it felt when he held my hand. Like anything was possible.

  “So what do you like?” Conley asks him.

  “I like dogs. But Mom says I can’t have one.”

  I press my lips together. “I want you to have a dog too, River. But the apartment had a rule. Maybe the next place we live will have a different policy.”

  “What kind of dog would you like?” Conley asks. “I had a lab growing up.”

  “I don’t care,” River says, picking up his burger. “It doesn’t even have to be a puppy.”

  Conley and I look at one another, and something passes between us. I have a feeling he is a parent himself.