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He chuckled, pushing the chair back. “A woman. Why else?”
“Queenie, right?”
“Yep. She was in Ireland with another man actually, but I won her over.” Reaper winked and stood. “Love’s worth uprooting your life.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kevlar
Ever since the meeting,Kevlar avoided Kita. He didn’t want to. His heart urged him to stomp down to the FBI van, grab her by the shoulders, and kiss her senseless. But he didn’t. He sipped his beer, watching Mandi and Hawk flirt nearby. He’d keep his happy ass stationary.
The chill from a cold front tickled his nose, tempting him to go inside. He wouldn’t budge. He was preoccupied with the FBI plan and how it would put Kita at risk. He’d never been worried about a woman before. At least not one he once loved.One I still love.
“Did she cut you off or are you not talking to her for a reason?” Rubble asked, taking the chair next to him at the table used predominately for smoke breaks.
He finished off the beer. “Nothing much to talk about. I got my hopes up and I had to come back to reality.” He looked over to the big man. “Life’s a bitch sometimes, ain’t it?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” Rubble pulled down his sunglasses. “But why are you wasting time wallowing about losing her when she’s still here?”
Kevlar harrumphed and looked back toward the FBI vehicle.
“Well, if you’re not going to do anything, I will.”
“Excuse me?” He whipped his head toward Rubble and saw the shit-eating grin. “Asshole.”
“Never said I wasn’t.” Rubble pushed the glasses back in place, nursing his whiskey. “But honestly, she’s got one fine ass.”
“You’re an ass man, aren’t you?”
He nodded approvingly. “Oh, yeah. A girl with a nice, firm, and big ass, and damn, I’m in heaven.”
“Christ, you’re a horn ball.”
“Have we met?” Rubble’s smile tilted. “Everybody’s got a thing. Take you for example. You like your women tough and with black hair. Always have, brother.”
Thinking back over the years, Kevlar had to admit Rubble was spot on. He consistently went for women with dark-colored hair who could fight as good as him. The last woman he was serious about was a fellow soldier in the Army. She’d been tough as nails and had the prettiest dark brown hair.
“Shit, you’re right.”
“Always am.”
Doc and Isa rumbled into the parking lot on the man’s Harley. They were ideally matched, her with a princess-gone-dark vibe and him with a devil-may-care attitude. She waved at him, and he nodded in reply. Their conversations were usually limited, but she was sweet. Too sweet for him.
“You ready for the show tomorrow?” Doc asked, arm looped around his old lady’s shoulders.
“Hells yeah.” Rubble pounded a fist to his chest. “Always ready for action. You know that, Doc.”
Isa leaned over and kissed Doc’s cheek. “Just keep this one alive, will you? I’m rather fond of my old man.”
“Don’t worry, he’s safe.”
Kevlar caught sight of Kita and the head FBI agent coming out of the white van. He didn’t like the looks of the Zane fellow. The bastard was too friendly for his liking. Zane placed a hand on the small of Kita’s back, and Kevlar’s grip on the beer bottle tightened.
“Careful, you’ll break it,” Rubble warned.
“Yeah, I don’t think stitches the day before we take down the Cutthroats is a good plan,” Doc chimed in, moving toward the clubhouse entrance. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Kevlar flipped him the bird, and the couple laughed before walking inside. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The longer he was apart from Kita, the more he wanted to smoke. What he really wanted was her lips on his, but he’d settle for a taste of nicotine.
