She blinks up at me twice, probably gauging whether this is just some cat and mouse game or if I mean it. I’ve never played that kind of game before, I don’t know why she would think I’d start now.
Either I want to fuck or I don’t. End of story.
“Of course, Prez,” she purrs, but steps up to the bar anyway. Like she thinks I might change my mind. Not happening.
I grab my beer and meet Snake’s eyes. Concern is written all over his face. “Tomorrow morning,” I tell him.
When he nods, I head out of the clubhouse and go home. I built it years ago because I needed somewhere that is just mine. Tonight, when I step inside, I wonder why I made it so big. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it.
My close call settles around me, and I have to face the fact that I want the family this house promises. I want a good woman. I want a soft place to come home to.
Ezra flashes in my mind again, but she’s the last woman who could ever be mine.
CHAPTER 3
EZRA
I turn the corner in the grocery store and stop when I see Opal, Graycie, and Adam standing in the aisle. They look up as well and the women shoot me big grins while Adam looks uncomfortable. I’m sure his first choice for activities this afternoon wasn’t grocery shopping. From the looks of things, they’re stocking up.
For a moment, fear grips me because I wasn’t really expectingto run into anyone on my grocery run. Which is ridiculous because you always run into someone at the grocery store in town. That’s just how it is.
When I was growing up, Dad would always remind me about what people expected from him and his family. I just happened to be the family he was talking about.
Today I’m in shorts and a T-shirt with my hair thrown up on the top of my head. My shirt features a drawing of a Victorian era woman standing in front of a mirror and says, ‘cool girls know history’. It’s one of my favorites. I don’t have any make-up on. Honestly, I’m happy about putting on moisturizer this morning.
I stayed up way too late worrying about the fundraiser while disco-fying my Liberty Bell and streaming another true crime documentary. Jessi’s not a fan, so we can never watch them together. It’s a shame because I wish I could talk to her about them and dissect the whole case, but I can’t with her.
Needless to say, I didn’t leave my house looking my best today. Hopefully, Dad doesn’t see me. He would have things to say about my less than perfect appearance.
The worst is when he doesn’t say the words, but the judgement is written all over his face. It’s like nothing I’ve done matters in that moment; he forgets it all because I can’t be perfect all the time.
Dealing with it all is exhausting.
I push the thought aside because I’m not going to apologize for dressing with comfort in mind.
“Hey,” I greet the group, my voice sunny. “Fancy meeting you here,” I tease.
“Honestly, it is kind of strange seeing you during the day,” Opal says with a smile on her face as she pushes her cart closer.
“And not in school,” Adam grumbles, his eyes on the floor with a look on his face that screams he would rather be anywhere else at the moment.
“Adam,” I tease him, “I thought for sure you’d be less grumpy during summer. I see that was a bold assumption and completely incorrect.”
“Bolt,” he mumbles.
I lean closer to him, my eyebrows pulling together slightly. “What?”
He clears his throat and looks me in the eye. “It’s Bolt, Ms. Lyons.”
I’m sure I look more than a little confused. Sure, I heard some of the other kids call him Bolt, but I never really thought very much about it.
Opal pipes up while reaching up and pinching Adam, I mean, Bolt’s cheek. “Bolt is now officially a prospect.” She tugs at the leather cut he’s wearing, the one I didn’t even notice, honestly, and taps the patch. “See?”
“Oh,” I say with a nod and a serious look on my face. As if I completely understand. “Okay, Bolt,” I smile, “how’s the summer going so far?”
“It’s been fine. I’ve been working at the clubhouse prospecting, like Opal said.” He glances at the look on my face. “I get all the grunt work,” he explains.
I know a little bit about the club, it’s hard not to hear a thing or two around town. But why would anyone tell the sheriff’sdaughter more about how the local motorcycle club—which said sheriff hates—than that? So yeah, I’m more clueless than clued in.
