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Jessie stood nervously by Ghost’s bike. She watched him talking with his other club members, then chug down a beer like she wasn’t left standing here waiting where he’d left her. What the hell?
Had he forgotten about her that quickly?
Then she noticed them all turn and look back at her, and a couple of them burst out laughing.
Oh my God, they were laughing at her.
Well, fuck that. She moved around the bike stalking straight for Ghost. He had another thing coming if he thought she’d stand there and be the butt of some joke.
His head swiveled, and when he saw her moving toward him, and probably more likely the furious look on her face, he moved quickly to intercept her.
He grabbed her by the arm and began tugging her in the direction of a huge metal shed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come on, brat.”
She had no choice but to stumble along in his wake, her arm firmly locked in his grip.
“What the hell? Let me go.”
“No way, José. I know what you were about to do. I could read it all over your face, Jess.”
“They were laughing at me.”
“They weren’t laughing at you.”
She snorted a disbelieving breath.
“And you were about to let loose on them with that mouth of yours, weren’t you?”
“Maybe,” she grudgingly admitted.
He huffed out a laugh. “No maybe about it, sugar-pie. You’re in a mood.”
“I am not. And don’t call me that.”
He looked back at her with lifted brows.
“Oh, all right, maybe I am, but I can’t help it. I’m tired and dirty and hungry,” she practically whined.
“Well, if you’d give me half a second, I was about to fix that.”
He continued pulling her along, turning when they got to the corner and moving around the side toward a big grill fashioned out of what looked like an old oil drum cut length ways and turned on its side. An old grizzled biker stood over the hot coals, turning burgers and brats with a silver tongs. He had two long graying braids, and a headband tied around his head. The bottom rocker on the back of his cut read, Louisiana.
“Skeeter,” Ghost greeted.
The old man looked over his shoulder. “Well look what the cat dragged in. Where ya been, boy?”
“Had a bit of trouble.”
It was then the old man’s eyes slid beyond Ghost to land on her. “Trouble, huh?”
“Haven’t eaten in the last two days, Skeet. You gonna feed us?”
He nodded. “I’ll feed ya, son. Grab a plate.”
They both soon had plates piled high and were sitting at a picnic table away from the others. Jessie didn’t think that was by accident. Ghost seemed determined to keep her away from his club. Which was going to be impossible since they were everywhere. And she wasn’t sure if that was for her benefit or his. At the moment, she didn’t care. She was too hungry. She dug into her food like a starving person, which she was.
Nothing had ever tasted so good, she practically moaned with pleasure, her eyes sliding closed. When she opened them, Ghost was grinning at her. Then he winked.
