Page 1 of Hard Knox

Chapter 1

Knox

The damn Tennessee sun was blazin’ hotter than hell, but that didn’t keep the crowds from pourin’ in at our annual charity bike wash. As the president of the Royal Bastards MC, I was smack dab in the middle of it all, slingin’ a hose and scrubbin’ down a line of bikes that looked like it could stretch clear to the next county. I wasn’t above gettin’ my hands dirty. We were out here tryin’ to scrub up some good will, showin’ this town that even a bunch of outlaws like us could throw down for a good cause. This year, we were raisin’ hell for the local kids’ sports teams, right there at the elementary school.

I was all caught up in the spray and rinse rhythm, longin’ for a cold beer, when she barged into the chaos like a whirlwind that cut through the hot air. Her entrance flipped every head, mine included. She wove through the crowd of leather and ink, carryin’ herself like she owned the place, which sure as hell didn’t fit with the playful ruckus of the day. Her hair was yanked back in a no-nonsense ponytail, and that light yellow summer dress she wore stuck out like a sore thumb among the grease and suds.

Then, shit hit the fan—my hand slipped just a tad too much. The hose jerked out of line, and a wild spray of water shot across the air, drenching her before I could even holler a warning. Instantly, her dress was plastered to her, and she spun around, her eyes shootin’ daggers right at me.

I dropped that damn hose quicker than a hot poker, feelin’ my heart poundin’ in ways it hadn’t in a long stretch.

“Hell, I’m sorry!” I blurted out, my hands fumblin’ for a towel.

Even mad as a hornet and soaked to the bone, she was a sight. Yeah, I let my gaze linger a little too long, takin’ in every inch of her. She had the kind of curves that could make a man’s mind wander down roads best left untraveled. A full-figured beauty, she carried herself with a kind of confidence that damn near knocked the wind out of me. Those green eyes of hers sparkin’ up like they might just ignite something fierce in me or set me straight to burnin’.

“You make a habit of soaking women or am I just the lucky one today?” she shot back, snatchin’ the towel right out of my grip. Her tone was all edges, but her cheeks were dusted with a hint of a smile beneath that storm cloud.

A laugh escaped me, the tension cracklin’ but startin’ to ease off as I met her fiery stare. “Only the special ones. Name’s Knox,” I offered, thinkin’ maybe there was a chance to smooth things over yet.

“Eliza,” she said, a bit more softened now, as she patted down her face with the towel. And I noticed there wasn’t a ring on her finger. She looked around, takin’ in the banners for the charity, the families and kids all gawkin’, the bikers minglin’ around. “I came for the charity, not the shower.”

I nodded, all too aware of the mix-up we’d stirred. “Well, Eliza, let me square it with you. How ‘bout coffee? On me. Warm you up.” I tried my darnedest to keep my eyes off her wet clothes, clingin’ to her as I offered. “A place just ‘round the corner that’s safe from any rogue hoses.”

Her slight nod gave me a sliver of hope. Maybe this day wasn’t shot after all. Maybe it was just gettin’ started. Her eyes gave me the once-over, the fire in ‘em coolin’ down to something thoughtful. Finally, she gave a nod.

“Coffee sounds good,” she conceded, a smile slowly takin’ over where the scowl had been. “Maybe you can clue me in on how a Royal Bastard like you ends up throwing a charity bash.”

As we made our way to the coffee shop, her dress was dryin’ but still clung to her in ways that made it damn hard not to look. Made it hard for me to walk. I found myself hopin’ this unexpected drenchin’ might be the start of somethin’ else unexpected.

Strollin’ toward the coffee shop, Eliza seemed to ease up a bit, the earlier tightness in her body meltin’ away with each step under that warm Tennessee sun. Curiosity sparked in her eyes as she took in the sight of my brothers, the bikers minglin’ back at the wash.

“So, y’all do this often?” she asked, tuckin’ a stray strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, all casual like.

“Every few months,” I replied, a swell of pride risin’ up. “We try to give back, keep the peace with the town. Ain’t all just about rough rides and bar brawls, you know?”

She laughed then, a sound smooth enough to soften the edges of any rough day. “I gotta admit, it’s not what I expected when I heard a motorcycle club was in on it. It’s… nice.”

“Glad we could surprise ya,” I shot back with a grin.

Eliza dug through her bag and pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Slipping them on, she transformed right there on the sidewalk, and I couldn’t help but let out a low whistle. “Damn, that’s a whole new look for you.”

She flashed a grin, clearly amused by my reaction.

I made an effort to explain. “Gives you a smart, mysterious vibe,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets to hide the stiff rod growing in my pants.

She laughed, a sound as light and stirring as the breeze. “Well, I am a teacher, Knox. I spend most of my days trying to wrangle a room full of kids at the elementary school.”

“That so?” I mused, watching the way the morning light caught in the highlights framing her face. “Bet you’re pretty good at that. You got this, uh, refined way about you. And those glasses just… they fit.”

Her cheeks colored just a bit. “Thanks? I did go to the University of Tennessee. Got my degree and everything.”

Impressed, I nodded. “Vol, huh? That’s something. I didn’t even finish high school myself. Learned everything from the school of hard knocks,” I joked, hoping to see that smile again. “Kind of where I got my road name.”

“Knox… that’s clever,” she said, her eyes shining behind those glasses as she studied the patch on my cut. “I figured it was because of the city.”

“Both really. My education has been one of the streets and the road, mostly in Knoxville,” I confirmed, stepping in closer.

“Sounds like you’ve had quite the education.” She batted those pretty eyes as she looked up at me. She wasn’t short, but she wasn’t nearly as tall as me.

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