“We’ll have to fix that.” He gestured over his shoulder. “Swedes already promised Mac fried chicken next weekend. Come by.” He included me in his invite by talking to me like we were old friends. “All homemade, all perfection. It’ll be the best meal you’ve ever eaten.”
“Sounds amazing,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie.
Most of my meals came in to-go containers or were thrown together for me to easily shovel into my face. Plus, I just plain liked food, so fried chicken of any kind sounded amazing. And some that didn’t come in a cardboard bucket?
Count me in, even if Rhys didn’t want to go.
Or if his attendance was required for me to attend, I had no problem handcuffing him and forcing him to go.
I looked at the woman who I assumed was Mac. Well, it was her or the baby strapped to her chest, but the little one didn’t look old enough to eat solid food, much less request it.
A hand started patting its back and blocking the slight view I had, making me realize I’d been staring at the cutie. I raised my focus to smile at the woman.
Unlike the other three women out front, she didn’t seem particularly interested in me or my fake relationship with Rhys. She wasn’t rude or glaring or anything. But her return smile was small and brief before she glanced down at her phone. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to get back, baby.”
The biker cut off whatever he’d been saying to Rhys and moved all up in his woman’s space. The smile she gave him was far from small, and it matched the dimpled grin on his face. With theirprofiles to me, I watched as he softly spoke to her and their kid. It was almost comical to see a guy who would be intimidating at first glance be so gooey for them. Even his touch was gentle.
But the kiss he gave Mac? Not so much.
I spun to give them privacy in the semi-public place, only to see the other three women had joined us at some point while I’d been distracted by fried chicken and a baby.
I assumed that heated display of affection would be their goodbye, but I was wrong. The biker wrapped his arm around Mac’s shoulder and looked at Rhys. “I’m walking my girls out. Meet you on the other side?”
What a morbid thing to say.
“Yeah,” Rhys rumbled.
And what a morbid thing to agree to.
With a chorus of goodbyes—including another oddly avoidant smile aimed my way from Mac—they left.
Huh.
“You good?” Rhys asked me quietly.
But maybe not quietly enough.
Piper moved toward a very shiny… something as she spoke. “I’m making fresh coffee, she has baked goods, and she also has our company. And we’re a freakin’ delight. There’s zero coffee at the garage, and it smells like sweat and grease, not sugar and vanilla. Though my boys are okay company… I guess. Either way, she’s gonna have a better time than you.”
“Maybe I’ll stick around here.” Rhys leaned back on one of the gleaming counters, stretching his long legs out and crossing them at the ankle. He hooked a finger into one of my belt loops and tugged me back toward him before folding his arms across his broad chest. “Seems this is the better deal.”
“It is. But you still have to leave.”
He gave a long-suffering sigh as he stood upright again. He didn’t move, though. “I’ll be right over on the garage side.”
Oh.
The other side.
That makes more sense than…
It took me a second to realize he was waiting for me to respond.
I wasn’t really sure what to say, but my mouth decided on a very feeble, “Okay, have fun?”
His lips quirked up at that, and he headed for the door—but not before snagging a cookie off a tray.
“Hey, only the first one’s free,” Piper called, though it didn’t do much good. She shook her head as she looked at me. “That’s how I hook ’em.”
