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    Chayton's Tempest

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    “You need to think of marrying her.” Mr. Lonetree

      crossed his arms and tried to look commanding.

      “That stance and that glare may have worked when I

      was younger, but you won’t scare me into doing anything I

      don’t want to do. And I don’t want to marry Talli. Forget it.”

      “It is your duty,” the older man insisted.

      “My duty is to my country, not to marry a girl of your

      choosing. This is a pointless conversation and so I am going to

      leave. Goodbye, Ate. Tell Ina I said farewell.” Maverick walked

      out of the house before he could be drawn into an impending

      long and heated argument.

      Two

      Albuquerque, New Mexico

      “Well, take care of yourself, man. Give us a call if you

      need anything. Catch ya later.” Click.

      Maverick sat on his motorcycle and shut his phone. His

      friend Hondo had given him a call to find out where he was

      and what he was doing. Ever since the shrink had decided

      Maverick needed some down time, his teammates had been

      calling him to check up on him.

      He loved the members of his SEAL team and he wanted

      the okay to go back to work. The therapist had determined he

      needed about a month off; in fact all of them got the required

      time, but the others had spouses, children, and family to enjoy.

      Maverick had no one and now he was alone in Albuquerque.

      There was neither rhyme nor reason for him to be here.

      All he’d done was climb on his bike and it brought him here.

      He hadn’t had a destination in mind when he’d hit the open

      road; but now that he’d arrived, the part of his soul that had

      told him he needed to find something was telling him he was in

      the right place.

      Maverick might not want to do as his father wished, but

      he did believe in the customs of his people and fully intended

      on listening to his inner voice. “First order of business…find a

      place to stay.”

      It didn’t take him long to find a place, and soon

      Maverick was standing at the window of his hotel room. He

      had a direct view of the Sandia Mountains. It was beautiful. For

      that moment, he was content; but soon the earlier restlessness

      came to the fore again. He spent the rest of the day learning the

      area he was in. Taking a trip to Old Town, he played the tourist

      thing to a tee.

      Around nine that night, Maverick hooked up with a

      group of single men who were on vacation and went to some

      bars. They had a great time drinking and shooting pool.

      As they were walking back in the direction of the hotel,

      a light hit on the weathered sign that was in front of an olderlooking

      building. B’s Quarry, it read. With a glance at the guys

      with him, Maverick and the guys headed for the door.

      An assortment of vehicles were in the parking lot out

      front, everything from motorcycles, to trucks, to cars, and even

      fancy SUVs. Maverick wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

      They walked through the door, Maverick bringing up

      the rear. For a brief moment, he took in the layout of the bar, an

      instinctive habit from his career.

      There were tables placed throughout the whole place.

      The floors were wooden and they shone in the neon light from

      alcohol logos. On each side of the establishment were two pool

      tables and two dart boards, all being used by the patrons.

      Along the right wall was a raised stage and there was a small

      open space near it for dancing. A jukebox was next to the stage

      and right now it was the only thing offering up music to the

      bar.

      Against the back wall was a long bar, and as far as he

      could see there was only one woman behind it, a beautiful

      black woman who didn’t seem to have any trouble handling all

      the hollered orders. The restrooms were to the right and left of

      the bar.

      The place was jumping; for a Tuesday evening he would

      have guessed it would be quieter. But then he didn’t even

      know the establishment, so who was he to judge? There were

      very few tables left and his group grabbed one. A waitress

      came by shortly to take their drink orders.

      Tempest had been behind the bar, in her usual place,

      when the door had swung open. A group of five men had

      stood there illuminated by the lights of her business. There was

      a man in the back of the group who gave her pause. He was

      gorgeous with flawless skin and jet black hair that was

      tastefully messy. His face was chiseled and held massive

      determination. She immediately identified him as Native

      American; but at the same time, a shiver went through her

      body, one she couldn’t quite understand.

      He’d stood tall, proud, and frozen as his eyes swept the

      place. Normally if people did that, she’d assume they were

      casing the joint. Not with this man. There was something about

      his carriage that made her shudder. After he’d done that, he’d

      followed his group to a table and sat down.

      When Mili, one of the waitresses she employed, leaned

      up on the bar, Tempest sent her a smile. “Wow, that is one hot

      group of men,” the Latina said with a grin.

      “Most men in here are hot, according to the ‘Bible of

      Mili’, so that is nothing new,” Tempest teased her as she

      reached for five beers.

      “I have a good eye for men. And the tallest of that group

      is a man’s man. I mean, Jesus, did you see the size of his arms?

      Or his chest?” The young woman was nearly panting. “His legs

      or the fact that he could crack a walnut with his ass?”

      Tempest burst out laughing. “Damn, Mili. You’re

      horrid!” Sliding the drinks toward the dark-eyed woman, she

      shook her head. “Get back to work.”

      With an overly dramatic sigh followed by a shoulder

      shrug, the woman did just that, weaving in and out of the

      increasing crowd delivering drinks to the patrons.

      Maverick had focused his eyes back on the sexy

      bartender as she spoke to the woman who’d taken their drink

      order. The waitress was nothing to scoff at, but the second

      she’d gone next to the bartender, Maverick had lost all interest

      in her. His total attention had fallen upon the dark, smooth skin

      of the woman flipping drinks.

      When her head had tipped back in laughter, his cock

      had jerked so intensely in his jeans, it’d made him jump. He’d

      groaned as she’d graced the waitress with a full-blown smile

      that allowed the white of her teeth to contrast against her dark

      skin. Whatever her response was, he’d had no idea; all he could

      see was the way her tongue snuck out to trace along her lips.

      The overwhelming urge to cross the room and kiss that

      woman senseless was mind blowing. Maverick had amazing

      eyesight, a trait that enabled him to be a sniper, and he could

      see everything she offered. The oval shape of her face,

      unbelievably full lips, a small somewhat flat nose, wide darkcolored

      eyes.

      Her hair was put up in a tight ponytail, allowing

      everyone to see her high cheekbones. She wore a black cutoff


      shirt that had the Harley Davidson logo on it. He could see the

      muscles in her arms moving as she worked.

      “You okay, Maverick?” one of the men asked, waving a

      hand in front of his face.

      Blinking, he nodded. “Fine.”

      The waitress appeared at their sides and placed the

      beers down in front of each man. “Enjoy,” she purred when

      they placed tips on her tray.

      He drank as the night went on. The group with him was

      getting rowdy. Maverick noticed how two bouncers were

      keeping an eye on their table. “Get it under control, guys,” he

      muttered. “I don’t want to get kicked out.”

      The men nodded without really hearing him. Movement

      at the door behind the bar grabbed his attention. He noticed a

      young man with dark skin and black hair come out and walk

      over to the bartender, slipping his arms around her waist.

      Maverick’s eyes narrowed as she served her drink and

      spun around with a cheer as her arms encircled the man’s neck.

      He growled his displeasure. The man holding her nodded at

      something she said, which set her off on another round of

      cheers.

      Strong arms had slid around her waist. Tempest had

      pushed the Jack and Coke across the bar to the man waiting for

      it before acknowledging the man behind her.

      “I did it!” he blurted before she faced him.

      “Dakota!” she exclaimed and turned in his arms. She

      looked up at her son who was a few inches over six feet. “I am

      so proud of you!”

      The early years had been difficult for them. Being such a

      young girl and raising her son had posed an immense

      challenge, but Tempest succeeded. She’d even finished high

      school and had gotten her degree in business management.

      When her aunt died, she left everything to the young

      girl whom she’d taken in years earlier. So now, Tempest and

      her son owned a bar in Albuquerque and he was currently

      attending the university, majoring in African-American Studies

      and Anthropology.

      “So you passed it?” she asked as he let her feet find the

      floor.

      “I aced it,” he said and nodded.

      Tempest hugged him and cheered louder. He’d been

      taking his final in The African World. “I will stop now before I

      embarrass you anymore.”

      He smiled down at his mother. “I love you and I’m

      ready to get to work.”

      “You just passed a major test; why aren’t you out

      celebrating with friends?” Tempest questioned her child as she

      heard a drink order being yelled and began to make it.

      “I always work on Tuesday.” He moved to the other end

      of the bar and started preparing drinks for the patrons at the

      other end of the bar.

      “I’m taking ten,” she shouted over the music to her son.

      He waved her off as he continued to flirt with the

      women and serve drinks. About to go into her office for a few

      minutes of quiet, Tempest changed directions as she heard a

      loud commotion from on the floor.

      Instantly, she headed for the table creating the ruckus. It

      was the group she’d noticed coming in earlier, with the

      handsome man. And he only got hotter the closer she went.

      She felt the large presence of one of her bouncers at her back.

      “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, loud enough to get

      their attention. Five sets of eyes fixated on her.

      “Hey, baby,” one of the men slurred.

      Tempest controlled her eye roll. Drunken men were all

      the same. These weren’t wasted but definitely on their way.

      “Look, I am very glad you came in here but you need to get

      control of your emotions. I don’t need you being louder than

      everyone else combined.”

      Maverick was impressed. She had no fear as she talked

      to the loud men, yet at the same time she was very respectful to

      them. At the moment, her gaze was not on him but on the

      loudest of the group. His eyes roved over the jeans that hugged

      her bubble butt to perfection. She had a profile any goddess

      would envy.

      “Sorry,” the slurred word came. “We are on our last

      vacation before Matt here gets married.” The man slung his

      arm around his friend. “You know, kind of like a last fling.

      Sending him off with a bang…so to speak.”

      “Well,” she said with a smile. Maverick noticed how the

      bouncer slipped away. “In that case, let me get you a

      round…on the house. Just don’t get into a shouting match.”

      Determined to get her beautiful face on him, Maverick spoke

      up. “That is so kind of you; thank you.”

      That tone, that voice, sent shivers through her body.

      Tempest turned to face him. The second their eyes met, that

      shiver changed to dread and then downright rage. It was a

      huge struggle to remain calm.

      Maverick noticed her eyes looked panicked before they

      were reined in under control. He watched her run russet gaze

      over his seated frame. His body hardened from her close

      proximity to him.

      It was, however, when she spoke again, that he flashed

      back up to her face. He knew she was trying valiantly to be

      nice, but he could hear the strain in her voice. “Well, I aim to

      please.” She waved to the same waitress who’d been attending

      them very well. “Mili, give a round of drinks to these men; they

      are celebrating.”

      One last hard stare at the tall man and Tempest was

      gone. Heading through the crowd, she slipped into her office

      and shut the door. Moments later, she was crumpled on the

      floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Tears formed and began

      pouring down her dark cheeks.

      As Tempest closed the front door of the house behind

      her, the question came. “Are you okay, Mom?”

      Without turning she merely nodded. “I’m fine, Dak,

      don’t worry. Just a bit tired.” Tempest continued on to the

      kitchen. She lived in the same house that she’d since she

      arrived here. It was left to her when Aunt Bertha died.

      “I will let you get some sleep, then,” he spoke from

      behind her. “I have some more work to do before I crash. See

      you in the morning.” Dakota kissed her on the cheek and

      strode out of the kitchen and off to his room with his long legs.

      “Love you,” he tossed back at her from the hall.

      “I love you too,” Tempest hollered back as the tears

      threatened to begin again.

      She also left the kitchen for her room. Closing the door

      behind her, she walked to her bathroom, dropping clothes

      along the way. Turning on the shower to as hot as she could

      handle it, she stepped in, stood under the spray, and let the

      tears win.

      Looking into those eyes had nearly killed her this

      evening. What the hell was he doing here? It didn’t look like he

      knew who she was, but maybe he was biding his time. “Not

      like twenty-one years isn’t long enough,” she hissed to her

      shower wall.

      Tempest pounded on the speckled tiles that lined her

      stall until her hands went numb.
    She cried and cursed

      Maverick as her fists couldn’t take anymore. Turning off the

      water, Tempest walked nude back into her bedroom and stood

      in the middle of her room, letting the dry desert air suck the

      remaining moisture from her skin.

      Her body moved over to the tri-fold full-length mirror

      that was in a corner of her room. Positioning her body so she

      could see the lower part of her back, Tempest placed her eyes

      on the tattoo that rested just above her tailbone.

      It was a bed of thorns that squeezed a word and there

      were drops of blood visible. In and out of each letter the thorns

      wove. The word: Maverick.

      “This tattoo hurt like hell,” she whispered as her heart

      hardened. “But it was a reminder of you and what you put me

      through.” Tempest dried her hair, lotioned her body, and

      climbed into bed.

      Sleep was a long time in coming, for she was haunted by

      memories she’d believed long buried. And beyond them was a

      pair of black eyes that seemed to penetrate her soul.

      Dakota frowned as he heard his mother crying. It was so

      unlike her. His mother was the strongest woman he knew.

      She’d been the rock at Bertha’s funeral. His mom worked her

      ass off to give him everything she could.

      He knew the cost of her being a single mom. For a while,

      he’d wanted to know his father, until she’d said he didn’t want

      them. And she didn’t try to stop his anger at being abandoned

      by his unknown father, allowing him to vent and get it out of

      his system.

      But unlike many kids at school who couldn’t care less

      about the strain it put on the single parent, he always did his

      best to help her out. She would thank him and send him on his

      way to play sports or do homework. No matter how busy she

      was, she always made sure she was there during anything he

      was participating in, school or otherwise.

      He’d spent many nights in her office at work while,

      prohibited from coming out to the front. His mom would come

      back there to check on his homework and him. He’d learned

      how to mix drinks at a young age, but she’d refused to let him

      serve any until he was twenty-one. So this year, he’d begun to

      serve in the bar, even getting his certificate and it was all legal.

      Dakota worked hard in school, determined to excel and

      make his mother proud of him. He would be able to provide

      for her and let her relax. For a while, he’d encouraged her to

     


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