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The waitress stops by with the check, and I pull out my wallet.
“Together or separate.”
“Together.”
“Separate.” Lucy glares at me.
“Together.” I hand the waitress my card, and the girl just stands there confused until I nod at her to get moving.
“I can’t let you do that.”
“I interrupted your dinner. It’s the least I can do.”
“I’m capable of taking care of my child.”
I lean against the back of the booth, my eyes on hers, and I pray she can see the sincerity in them. “I never said you couldn’t. I appreciate the company and great conversation.”
“With a six-year-old?” She scoffs.
“It was more mature than it would’ve been with those guys.” I hitch my thumb toward Skid and Ace.
As if proving my point, those two idiots are having a competition on who can hold a spoon on their nose the longest.
“Looks like fun,” Harley says as he notices what they’re doing.
The waitress comes back with my card and take-home boxes for the food Lucy and Harley didn’t eat. I sign the slip, leaving a generous tip. I should stand and leave, but when I look back at Ace, he shakes his head. The two guys that were giving her a hard time left the diner but they haven’t left the parking lot.
I pull a couple of quarters from my pocket and hand them over to Harley.
“What are you doing?” Lucy snaps when I drop them into his hand.
“Hey, bud, why don’t you go see what those machines have to offer,” I tell him, pointing to the row of quarter machines on the far wall.
Harley looks to his mom, and she must see something in my eyes because she nods to him. He bounds over me, excited to have a fist full of quarters, and hauls ass toward the machines.
“I’m going to follow you home.”
“The hell you are,” she snaps, leaning over the table.
It’s clear she wants to get her point across without others hearing her. I love that she doesn’t feel any sort of obligation toward me, despite the fact that I just paid for her meal.
“Do you know the two men who were giving you a hard time when I walked in?”
Her eyes dart in the direction they were sitting. “I’ve never seen them before, but they’re gone now.”
“They’re still outside,” I tell her.
“How do you know?”
“I just do. My guys are going to stay here and make sure you aren’t followed. I’m going to make sure you get home safely.”
“And how do I know I’m safe with you knowing where I live?”
“I’m not a bad guy, Lucy, but I can promise those men can’t say the same thing.”
Her eyes search mine, and I bet she’s going over every word that has come out of my mouth today, my interaction with her son, and the way Edith wrapped her arms around me.
“I won’t even get off my bike, but I want to make sure the two of you get home safely.”
“And if we have other plans?” she challenges.
“Do you?”
She shakes her head.
“I got tattoos! Do you have tattoos, Micah?”
“Quite a few, little man,” I tell him, not pulling my eyes from Lucy.
Her gaze drops, eyes roaming over me, and I’m smiling when she discovers that I caught her looking.
“Okay, Harley. Let’s go.”
I block her before she can leave the diner, and somehow I manage without touching her. It’s an easy thing to do since she seems so aware of me. Ace and Skid head out first, angling their bikes so the assholes would have to run over them to back their truck out. I wait patiently on my bike for her to pull out before following close behind her. I know the guys will give us several minutes to put some miles between us and the diner before they move. It may piss the guys who were bothering them off, but Ace and Skid know how to handle themselves.
Chapter 3
Lucy
I don’t accept favors. I hate owing people, being indebted to them, especially men. Men want one thing because they’re capable of doing everything else for themselves.
Micah “Snake” Cobreski, former Marine turned Cerberus biker, has now forced two favors down my throat. First was paying for dinner, and now because I was scared for my and Harley’s safety, he’s offered protection on our drive home. Other than coming out of the gas station a couple of weeks ago to Harley being on the stranger’s bike, he hasn’t done or said anything creepy, but still, trust doesn’t come easily if it ever comes at all.
But as I drive home, trying to keep my eyes safely on the road ahead of me, I realize I’m not so much worried about him as a person and what his expectations are for those favors he’s thrust upon me, I’m worried about what he thinks of me or what he’s going to think of me once he sees where we live.
