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“A woman, you mean.”
“Why do you care about his needs?” asked Jett.
Choirboy blushed. “I don’t necessarily, but Vanessa does. She thinks she’s a matchmaker, and if I don’t mention this idea she has in her head, I’ll catch hell.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” said Ronan.
“You’re going to anyway, to save Choirboy an ass-chewing,” said Jett, who seemed to be enjoying the show.
Ronan couldn’t help thinking his friend would like to see him out of the way so he could pursue Tessa without him. Not that either of them had done any pursuing yet, to his knowledge.
“Well… Vanessa has a suggestion for you,” said Choirboy.
“You have a suggestion for me? About a woman?”
Vanessa appeared then with a slinky brunette in tow.
“More of an offer,” whispered Choirboy as his old lady approached.
“An offer?” He traded a bewildered look with Jett, who shrugged.
“Hey, all,” said Vanessa. “This is Sheila. You know her, right, Ronan?”
He shrugged, thinking she was familiar.
“I definitely know you,” said Sheila with a fluttering of her lashes before looking at Jett. Her expression cooled slightly. “And you.”
Jett chuckled. “I remember you too, Sheila.”
Ronan grimaced, realizing Jett and Sheila had a past. The idea of being with her lost any appeal. Oddly enough, the idea of sharing Tessa with his friend didn’t bother him in the least, though.
Trying to be polite, he focused on Sheila as she returned her attention to him. She had hair down her back and wore a T-shirt and denim shorts—the semi-official biker chick uniform. Her face was thin, almost regal, and Ronan found her very attractive physically but in a distant way that appreciated her beauty without being affected by it. He’d seen her around but not paid much attention to her. Apparently, that oversight had been noticed.
“Sheila here is wondering why you never ask her to dance when you come into the clubhouse. Right, Sheila?”
“I guess I wondered, all right. A hot guy like you…” She turned in front of him, moving slowly and running her hands over her ass. “I was wondering why it is you don’t seem interested in making a play for this? It isn’t like I glare at you. Do I?”
Ronan smiled. The pitch was direct and unsubtle. And she was nicer than a lot of the girls he’d bedded. “You’re a lovely package, Sheila.”
She licked her lips. “This lovely package is packaged to go, if I get the right offer from the right guy.”
“What makes an offer the right offer?”
“If I got to know the right guy, say a nice-looking guy like you, and he wanted an old lady, someone he could be serious about and keep around, then I’d be interested in getting together to see if we could make some sparks fly.”
“That’s a bad image for a mechanic, Sheila.”
“Well, whatever. We could find out if there was any magic, and if we got together, I can guarantee a hot guy wouldn’t regret it. I do know how to make a man feel so very good.”
The way she said it made him shift with discomfort. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings or be rude, but he wasn’t feeling it. “I just bet you do. Thing is, right now I have Tiny breathing down my neck about his bike…”
She pouted for a moment. “Well, all right, but I’ll save you a seat at the clubhouse, and you owe me a drink and a dance. I promise it can lead into interesting places. Don’t work too late. I might think you aren’t coming, and it isn’t like I never get other offers.” She glanced at Jett and wrinkled her nose.
Then she turned and walked away, her hips moving her ass in an exaggerated motion. Ronan watched her walk away. “She is hot, Vanessa, I grant you that.”
“And she thinks you are.”
Choirboy nudged him. “You been alone a long time.”
