The Billionaire Biker Read online

  Sean scowled. Normally he had no problems with controlling his temper, but since he’d come back to the family fold, it had felt like everything was far too close to the surface.

  Nothing to do with Abby and her bombshell. Nothing at all.

  He ignored that thought, reaching over to the bed and picking up his battered leather jacket. He’d told Abby he’d be staying and so he would, but he hadn’t made any decision where Jax was concerned. “What the fuck do you want me around the negotiating table for? Like I told you, all I can do is punch people out and make them toe the line. That’s it. I don’t have any fancy college degrees or business experience or any of that kind of shit. I’m a grunt. That’s all I do.”

  “Bullshit to that,” Jax growled. “Like I said, give it one week. If you’re not challenged and interested by what you see, then fine, leave and find something else. But don’t tell me you’re not ready to do something different. Find your place.”

  Sean paused, listening to his brother’s voice. There was something in the guy’s tone, like he actually wanted Sean to stay. Like he cared. “I didn’t matter to you for five fucking years,” he said, slowly. “Why now is this suddenly so important? And don’t give me that family togetherness crap this time.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then Jax sighed. “Because I let you down, Sean. Because I didn’t protect you when I should have. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me to be. And I know it’s late, probably too late, but I want to make it up to you now.”

  Sean let out a silent breath, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. Jax had been the only person who’d actually done what he was supposed to. What a big brother was supposed to: he’d stood up for him in front of his stepmom. Yeah, it had ended up making things worse, but at least the guy had tried. Wasn’t it his turn to try now?

  “Okay. One week then,” he said at last. “But before I do, I want to know why the fuck you brought Abby into this.”

  There was another silence on the other end of the line.

  “Because I didn’t want to take any chances with you saying no,” Jax said after a moment.A reflexive anger licked up inside him. “You used her, in other words.”

  “I gave her the choice,” Jax’s voice hardened. “And she agreed. Look, this is her last job for the company, Sean. She’s moving on after this. I know you’re pissed with Donovan and me, and with good reason, but don’t make this last experience with Morrow a shitty one for her.”

  Sean narrowed his gaze at the floor. Now Jax sounded defensive. Of Abby.

  Is it any wonder? He was the one who looked after her while you fucked off.

  “Thanks, Jax,” he said gruffly, needing to say it. “For taking care of her after … ” The words stopped in his throat and he couldn’t get them out.

  “She told you about that?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jax was silent a long moment. “Well, someone had to. You weren’t there so I stepped up.”

  There was no accusation in his brother’s voice, only a flat statement of fact that, though it hurt, Sean appreciated. “I’m glad you did.”

  “That’s what families do, Sean. They look out for each other.”

  The words lingered after the conversation was over, an uncomfortable weight as he left his hotel room and headed downstairs to wait for Abby.

  Families looking out for each other? That was bullshit if ever he heard it. His mom never had, constantly blaming him for being the reason Patrick Morrow had never divorced his wife and married her instead. For being the reason she had to take two jobs just to survive. And after she’d died and Patrick had taken him in, all he’d gotten in the Morrow household was abuse from his new stepmother, who’d basically hated him on sight. Patrick hadn’t cared.

  No, his experience had been of families doing exactly the opposite of looking after each other. Men who cheated on their wives and didn’t care about the consequences. Women who blamed their children for their own mistakes, then avoided the fallout by checking out of their lives. People who didn’t do what they were supposed to do. Who broke the rules.

  Who never took responsibility for their own actions.

  So fuck what families did.

  The Angels at least had rules and everyone followed them, which made them better than any damn family.

  When Sean arrived down in the hotel foyer, Abby was already waiting for him, her neat figure in an elegant, dark blue wraparound dress that somehow managed to flaunt her delicate curves. He had had to stop for a moment to watch her.

  Yesterday up in Jax’s office, as she’d come close to him, he’d become instantly physically conscious of her in a way that had been almost painful. The green of her blouse had brought out the green in her eyes and made her skin … glow somehow. It had reminded him of the short, clingy green dress she’d worn the night of the graduation party, where they’d both had way too much to drink. How they’d ended up dancing and he’d become aware, like a lightning strike, of the shape of her in his arms. Of how good she’d felt. And like a shaft of sunlight illuminating a dark room, the realization had come: his best friend was hot and sexy and he wanted her.

  That same realization had struck him again up in Jax’s office. She wasn’t that self-conscious eighteen-year-old all shy in her green dress. She’d turned into an elegant, beautiful woman, with a confidence and poise he’d never suspected was in her.

  Too good for the likes of you, buddy.

  Yeah, but shit, she’d always been too good for him, hadn’t she? Even back then.

  She turned as he approached and he didn’t miss the brief flicker of her gaze, down the length of his body and back up to his face again. Nor did he fail to notice the delicate flush that appeared in her cheeks.

  Well, goddamn. He’d wondered at the intent way she’d examined him yesterday, and that flush only confirmed what he’d suspected: the chemistry they’d discovered that night was still there. And it went both ways.

  Desire stretched out, then clenched hard inside him. It had been a long time since he’d felt like this, the intensity of it. Not since …

  You left her.

  Yeah, and that was why he was not doing anything about it. Not when he’d fucked up so spectacularly last time. He should never have gone there with her in the first place, let alone made things fifty million times worse by leaving.“I like the jeans and T-shirt better than the suit,” Abby said, her cheeks pink.

  He shrugged, forcing down the pleasure he got from her appreciation. “They fit better.”

  “That’s the understatement of the century. But I’m not sure of your choice of hotel.” She looked around the foyer, wrinkling her nose. “Donovan’s going to be announcing your return soon and the press will be out, hunting you down. Not sure we want them to find you staying here.”

  Sean swept a look around the foyer himself. He’d been in worse places, but it hadn’t mattered much to him. Then again, he guessed it wasn’t quite up to Morrow standards.

  “It’s cheap,” he said. “And it had parking for my Harley.”

  “Hmmm. I suppose you won’t want to go to the family home?”

  Sean met her gaze. “What do you think?” There was nothing he wanted less than to revisit the place where he’d grown up. There were no good memories there for him, none at all.

  Except for meeting her.

  Yeah. Apart from that.

  “Okay, so that’s a no,” Abby said. “Jax has offered his apartment, or I can find another, more appropriate hotel for you.”

  “I don’t care. As long as there’s somewhere to put the bike and I can come and go whenever I want.”

  “Leave it with me and I’ll sort something out. Now, are you ready to hit the shops?” There was a flicker of amusement in her gaze, a trace of the dry humor he remembered from when they were teenagers. She’d been a quiet little thing, used to withdrawing to protect herself from her father’s constant undermining comments. Like him in many ways, and back then that’s what he’d needed.
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  Someone like him. Someone who made him feel less alone in the world. Who quieted his anger and softened his frustration at the unfairness of it all. With her he’d never felt powerless. As long as he could make her smile, that was all the power he’d needed.

  God, he’d missed that. Even in the club there had never been anyone he’d felt close to. Never had a friend. Not like Abby.

  Don’t make this last experience with Morrow a shitty one for her.

  He wouldn’t. Yeah, he hated shopping and hated the thought of someone trying to force their vision of who he should be on him even more—especially when that vision concerned the fucking Morrow family. But he still considered himself her friend, and a friend wouldn’t make things difficult for her. Besides, she’d had enough shitty experiences to last a lifetime.

  “Yeah, okay,” he said and smiled. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The VIP fitting room of Hart Brothers, the most exclusive tailors in New York, was all oak-paneled walls, leather couches, thick dark carpet, and discreet lighting. A luxurious, private area for gentlemen of substance to try on the best custom-made suits in the world.

  It was clear that Sean found being in there intensely uncomfortable.

  Mr. Hart himself had attended them, bustling around and taking Sean’s measurements, but even after half an hour Sean didn’t look any more at ease than when they’d arrived. Abby had had to answer Mr. Hart’s questions about color and cut, fabric and buttons, since Sean clearly didn’t have a clue. Or much interest.

  Now she sat on the opulent black leather couch, waiting for Sean to come out of the fitting room. Mr. Hart had found a ready-made suit for him to try on since the custom-made ones were going to take several weeks. Jax’s name had earned a two-week turnaround on the tux for the ground-breaking ceremony but the rest were going to take longer.

  The doors down at the end of the room opened and Sean came out.

  And Abby’s mouth dried.

  When she’d turned up at his low-rent hotel and seen him come to meet her in battered jeans, faded black T-shirt, and leather jacket, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him because the contrast to that ghastly suit had been so extreme.

  He’d looked muscular, powerful, and sexy as hell, his movements confident and fluid. Different from the stiffness he’d displayed in Jax’s office. He’d always had a smoldering bad-boy look to him, even back when he’d been eighteen, but with the short sleeves of his T-shirt revealing tattooed biceps, and that slashing scar and broken nose, at twenty-three he was the very definition of a sexy, dangerous, bad man.

  Yet, if she’d thought Sean in jeans was the height of gorgeousness, she was wrong.

  Sean in a well-tailored suit was to die for.

  Mr. Hart had chosen a midnight blue suit and it looked amazing with Sean’s blond hair, the cut of the jacket emphasizing his wide shoulders while the trousers did the same for his lean hips. A crisp white shirt contrasted beautifully with his tanned skin, but he hadn’t put on the silk tie, holding it in one hand instead. His hair was pushed back from his face, the length of it brushing the collar, and she decided she wasn’t going to push for him to cut it because it only added to the effect. She’d never realized how intensely a well-made suit drew attention to the inherent wildness of the man beneath it.

  “Oh, yes,” Mr. Hart said approvingly. “Much better.”

  “The shirt’s too small,” Sean said with customary directness.

  The tailor nodded. “Short in the arms? Fine. Give me a minute and I’ll see what else I can find for you.”

  As the man went out, Sean’s dark gaze shifted to Abby, sitting there rooted to the couch. “What do you think?”

  She swallowed. “It’s … fabulous. I mean really.”

  He frowned, tugging at his sleeves. “I feel like I’m in a fucking straitjacket.”

  “And yet you kept your old one,” she murmured, getting up from the couch and going over to him. “Here, let me put on the tie.”

  Sean handed her the scrap of blue silk. “It felt wrong to throw it away.”

  “A memento from your family maybe?” She lifted her hands, put the tie around his neck, tucking it under the collar of his shirt and bringing the ends around to the front. This close to him she could feel his heat, smell his scent. He’d never been an aftershave kind of guy and it seemed he still wasn’t. The familiar scent of sun-warmed cotton and the musky Sean-smell she remembered surrounded her, a wave of memory coming with it.

  They’d danced together that graduation night party, warm and hazy after too many tequila shots. And she’d loved the feel of being in his arms after fantasizing about it for so long. Then it had turned into something more. Heat and desperation and hunger. In an empty bedroom at the party, with music thumping outside, the feel of his hot bare skin against her hands …

  “Abby,” his voice, soft and deep near her ear.

  God, what was she doing? Why was she thinking about that night now?

  She looked up, met his gaze. And for a second, like they had in the foyer of the hotel, their gazes locked and held, an electric, aching kind of energy pulsing between them.

  “The tie,” he said thickly.

  Oh, shit. Yes, the tie.

  Tearing her gaze away from his, she quickly knotted the silk, her fingers only shaking a little. “There.” She gave the knot a pat, then stepped away, her heart thudding in her ears. “All done.”

  He didn’t move but she knew he was gazing down at her.

  “You look good, Sean,” she said, knowing she sounded breathless. “Much better.”

  “This isn’t good.”

  That got her attention. She flicked a glance up at him and all the air vanished from her lungs. Because in his eyes she saw the same memory and the same passion she remembered from that night. The night that had driven them apart.

  “What’s not good?”

  “Come on, Abby. I thought we’d always promised to be honest with each other. You know what I’m talking about.”

  She folded her arms, knowing it probably looked defensive and not caring. Hell, she needed some defenses with him standing around all tall and gorgeous in his suit. “I presume you mean this attraction?”

  “Yeah, that.”

  She raised a brow. “Don’t worry. If you’re afraid I’m going to jump you, it’s not going to happen.”

  “I’m not—”

  At that moment, much to her relief, the tailor came back with another couple of shirts. The relief turned out to be short-lived though, since Sean said curtly, “Leave them. I need a few minutes of privacy with Abby here.”

  To his credit, Mr. Hart didn’t even blink. “Certainly, Mr. Morrow.” And he vanished again, closing the door behind him.

  There was no reason for her to feel such trepidation. No reason at all. Yet a small, cold thread of panic wound through her.

  “You know, you’re more like your brothers than you think,” she said, turning and going back to her place on the couch. “Seems like arrogance runs in the family.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, Sean. Five years too late.” She knew it was a bitchy thing to say, but the words escaped before she could stop them. “I’m sorry,” she said instantly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Yes, you should.” He shrugged off the jacket and laid it down on the table where the tailor had left the shirts, then began pulling at the tie she’d just knotted. “You’re right. It is too late. But if I’m staying for the next week, and you and I are going to be spending time together, we need to sort some shit out.”

  That thread of panic wound a bit tighter. She rearranged herself on the couch, trying to ignore it. “Need help with that tie?”

  “No.” His fingers pulled uselessly at the fabric.

  “Idiot.” She got up again and went over to him. “You’ll ruin the material.”

  “Tell me what happened with the baby.”

  Damn him. Her fingers paused
in the process of pulling one end of the tie through the loop. Come on. You can say it. “I had a miscarriage around eleven weeks. It was a … difficult one and I lost a lot of blood.” She kept her focus on the material. “I ended up in the hospital.”

  Sean didn’t speak but his breathing was fast.

  She pulled the tie away and stepped back. “Jax paid my hospital bill and afterward found me a decent place to live.” Draping the silk back on the table, she lifted one of the shirts. “And then he gave me a job at Morrow.”

  “But … PR?”

  She tried not to react to the note of surprise in his voice. “Dad told me I didn’t have the confidence or the looks or the intelligence to succeed in the corporate world. I decided to prove him wrong. And I did. I’m good at PR. I’m damn good at it.”

  “I never said you weren’t.”

  Abby let out a silent breath. No, of course he hadn’t. And she didn’t need to be so defensive. She was confident in her looks and her abilities, extremely confident. “No, you didn’t.”

  His jaw had hardened. “Speaking of your old man, what happened with him? You said he kicked you out.”

  Her pregnancy had been the last straw for her father. The ultimate sign of his daughter’s failure to live up to his high standards. She hadn’t been the best student in class, hadn’t been the most beautiful, and now she was pregnant. At eighteen. A “useless bitch,” he’d called her.

  Abby swallowed back the echoes of pain and humiliation. Jesus, she hated that she still felt that. Hated that she allowed her father to have this power over her even now. “He was angry, predictably. And of course Mom was all ‘what will people think?’”

  “Did he—”

  “Hurt me? Not physically. But he had plenty to say about it, culminating in ‘get the fuck out of my house.’” There was something fierce in Sean’s eyes. An intense emotion she didn’t recognize.

  “I was okay, Sean. I got through it.”

  “I wasn’t there.”

  “No. You weren’t. But I coped. I had to.” She shook the shirt out. “Now, are you going to try this one on or not?”

  He didn’t look at the shirt. Only at her. “You haven’t asked me why I left.”