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“And I represent bikers on a rampage?”
“I’ve never rampaged in my life,” said Jett almost primly as he cut into his steak.
She smiled. “Some cliché like that.”
“I think the cliché is partly true. Our club, and most clubs like it, is a bunch of misfits who get along because they don’t fit into any other society. They act out often enough, but they join the club because they aren’t really rebels. They want to belong as much as anyone, but the mainstream society doesn’t have room for them, or is uncomfortable around them. Truthfully, most of them would rather drink beer than rampage.”
“Always a sensible plan,” said Jett.
Ronan ignored his contribution. “When they get moody, they’re more likely to smack each other around than pick on what we call civilians. Not that they have a great deal of respect for civilians, but you don’t get much street cred for hitting someone who doesn’t know how to fight.”
“And what about Kayla? Don’t you worry about her safety in that crowd?”
Jett snorted but didn’t say anything, since he was clearly too busy savoring the steak in his mouth.
Ronan shook his head. “From those guys? Any one of them would lay down their life for that little brat in a heartbeat. She’s got the lot of them wrapped around her tiny pinky. The only thing I worry about with her being around that crowd is that she’ll get thinking too much of herself because of how they dote on her. It’s kind of the reverse of what everyone would think. That’s one reason I’m glad she’s taken to mechanics. She knows she can’t boss a piston into place or cajole a bike into starting. It takes hard, greasy work, and she dearly loves buckling down and getting to it.”
“And she’s good?”
“Getting there. She thinks she knows more than she does, but what kid doesn’t?”
His words had a calming effect, and Tessa realized she needed to evaluate these men by different standards than other men. They lived by different rules but within the greater society. She didn’t begin to understand them yet, but certainly she couldn’t fault their values or manners. “I bet you’re both quite different when you’re with your friends.”
“Different how?” asked Jett.
“Louder, probably more vulgar.”
“That’s not true. I’m a fucking angel,” said Jett with a wink that made Tessa chuckle.
Ronan laughed. “I’ll admit I try to watch my language in more refined company, but I never see much need to raise the volume.”
She remembered his calmness in the face of Harvey Taylor’s tirade. “I believe you.” She did, but recalling Taylor brought back her fears, and a cold chill ran through her, making her shiver.
“Are you cold?”
“Just suffering a chilling thought.” She looked away, hoping that breaking eye contact that way would keep him from digging deeper. He took the hint and asked her an innocuous question about her family.
Concern made her mind drift away from the men at the table. Jett called for the bill before he and Ronan bickered over who would pick up the tab. After a moment, they agreed to split it and left money on the table.
The three of them went out into the darkness. “It’s late,” she said. “We must’ve talked for hours.”
“And it was fantastic. It’s been a long time since I’ve had so much fun eating dinner.”
“It wasn’t just the steak either,” said Jett. “Being with you made it even better.”
She nodded, wishing she hadn’t lost the edge of that special feeling she’d gotten as they chatted. Harvey Taylor had forced his way into that private space, and she mourned the loss of it.
She followed Jett to his bike, knowing he’d expect her to ride home with him, and she was looking forward to it. When they reached it, he looked at her. “Do you have to go home now?”
The idea of being alone with her thoughts, knowing they’d be circling around inside her head, debating what she should do, didn’t appeal to her. She drew a long breath, working up her nerve to answer him honestly. “No, I don’t.” She looked at him and then Ronan, who hovered near his bike. “I’d really rather not go home yet.”
Jett nodded and handed her a helmet. She watched him swing his leg over the bike. When he leveled it, she got on behind him, slipping her arms around him and hoping her eyes had told him the things that her mouth couldn’t find words to say. She didn’t want to go home. She wanted to stay with them. She wanted them to make love to her, to make her feel safe.
The night air was warm, and the heat of his body and the press of her breasts against his back made an electrifying connection between them. The bike roared to life, and he put it in gear and powered out of the parking lot, pulling out onto the highway. Riding behind him was similarly sensual as when she rode behind Ronan, but she knew who she was pressed against. She could easily tell them apart because they both made her feel different things, though she felt them equally for both.
She hadn’t asked where they were going, and for now she didn’t care. She was alive in the here and now, safe on the back of his bike. It was like Jimmy said—she wished they could ride forever and never stop.
Somewhere out there in the darkness of Southern California lurked Harvey Taylor. She didn’t want to think about him and couldn’t keep him out of her head. His intrusion made her hate him for distracting her. For now, she wanted to think of nothing but enjoying being where she was and feeling the closeness of these men.
