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“No wonder you looked so pissed off when you looked at us.”
“Sorry, brat. I was an adolescent boy that had lost his mother and didn’t want a new one.”
“I know. I didn’t want a new father, either, or a new brother. Until I met you, that is.”
He gave her a squeeze.
“Do you remember what you used to call me?”
“Brat?”
“No, before that.”
“What did I call you?” he asked with a frown, struggling to recall.
“When we met I had on a polka dot dress, and all that summer you called me Polka Dot.”
He grinned. “I did, didn’t I? Hell, I’d forgotten that.”
“I hated that dress.”
“You hated all dresses back t
hen. You were a little Tomboy, always wanting to tagalong with us. Remember when you wanted to enroll in Little League with us?”
“Yeah, Mom made me take ballet class instead.”
“You hated it.”
“Want to know a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I really didn’t hate it. I liked it. A lot. I just hated that I couldn’t play baseball, too.”
“Really?” He dragged the word out. “Interesting.”
“I used to love when you’d let me play ball with you in the neighborhood.”
“Well, you were the best third baseman we had,” he admitted in a teasing voice.
She grinned, lifting her chin proudly. “I was, wasn’t I?”
“Yup.”
“We had some fun times, didn’t we?”
“Sure did.” He pushed her head down on his shoulder. “Get some sleep, brat.”
She eventually drifted off. He could tell when her breathing changed, deepening, and her weight settled heavily against his side. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and continued to stroke her hair, his fingers sifting through the silkiness.
The curves of her warm body, soft against his side, reminded him that she was no longer a child. She was a grown woman now, and his body reacted to hers accordingly. He tried to tamp those feelings down, knowing the last thing he should be feeling toward her was desire. Somehow it felt wrong. He’d always been more like a big brother to her. And he was sure that wasn’t the type of relationship she’d sought him out for. She needed protection, someone to look out for her, someone to fill the role of the big brother she’d lost. And he was fine with filling that role. He’d be whatever she needed. It was the least he could do for her. The least he could do in Tommy’s memory.
His mind drifted to the trouble Jessie was now in, going over in his head everything she’d told him about the Death Heads and the plans she’d overheard. If it were true, it was damned valuable information. Information his club could use. Information the DKs would also find valuable. And there was the rub of it. His club would use her and that information to make a deal with the DKs.
Question was, would he be comfortable with that? Using her like that didn’t sit well with him. It put her smack in the middle of an escalating biker war. Could he live with that?
CHAPTER FOUR
