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He lifted his chin toward Ghost. “Put your hands anywhere they want to go. He likes when girls do that.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to get me in trouble?”
“Hell, gal, I’m trying to help you win.” He shrugged. “But suit yourself. I’m only a guy, what do I know about how we men like to be touched.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. “Okay, okay. Thanks.”
Twenty minutes later, they were walking into the clubhouse. Jessie had a crisp new twenty tucked in her pocket. She was relieved that Ghost had taken it all in stride, laughing at the bet they’d made and being the fun-loving guy she remembered.
He had a tight grip on her hand as he led her over to the bar, sat her on a stool, ordered her a drink, and then kissed her on the forehead.
“Sit tight, brat. This shouldn’t take too long, okay?”
She looked up at him and made a silly face. “Okie-dokie.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Goofball.” Then his eyes moved over her to connect with the prospect behind the bar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Yammer this time. Ghost lifted his chin at the man. “Yo, keep an eye on her.”
The man nodded. “Sure thing, Ghost.”
Jessie watched Ghost head down a hallway with the other patched members and disappear out of sight.
The prospect set a glass filled with cola in front of her. He held up a bottle of rum. “You want me to add a little something to that, darlin’?”
She smiled and pushed her drink forward. “God, yes.”
He chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”
She glanced around her. With all the men in the meeting, there were only a few people in the room. An old Rolling Stones song played quietly in the background. Mick declaring he couldn’t get no satisfaction.
Two drinks later, Jessie felt a presence at her side and turned to see little Ashley scooting her ass onto the stool next to her, dropping a pack of cigarettes on the bar, along with a pink rhinestone covered cell phone.
The prospect came over, his palms on the bar. “Ashley. You want a drink?”
She nodded over at Jessie’s drink and gave the prospect a big smile. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
He set a glass in front of her, filled it with cola and tipped a bottle up, adding some rum.
Jessie sat quietly next to her, sipping her third drink, now listening to the muted sounds of Eric Clapton and Cream’s Layla coming through the speakers, and wishing the club’s meeting would wrap up soon.
Ashley shook out a cigarette from her pack. “You got a light, Boo?”
The prospect dug a silver Zippo out of his hip pocket and extended his tattoo-covered arm, flicking the cover open, the flame flaring up.
Ashley stood on the foot-rung and perched over, her ass in the air as she dipped her head toward the flame. She sucked on the smoke, until it flared to life, the smell of tobacco drifting out.
“Thanks, doll.” She winked at the man named Boo, who flipped his Zippo closed and shoved it back in his pocket, then moved off to stock a cooler with cases of beer.
Ashley turned toward Jessie, offering her pack of smokes. “You want one, honey?”
“No, thanks. I quit.”
Ashley nodded, tossing them on the bar top. “I tried that once.” She blew out a stream of smoke toward the nicotine stained ceiling tiles. “It lasted about a week.”
She smiled over at Jessie, who nodded, not really in the mood to make friendly chitchat with the girl who’d been so cozy with Ghost last night.
She could feel Ashley’s eyes on her, studying her.
