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“Oh, you’re getting a bit sassy. I kinda like it.” Okay, so he’s flirting with me. I wasn’t too keen on Fury flirting with me, but I dig Armor. I don’t know what it is about the man, but he’s the physical embodiment of ‘don’t fuck with me’. He’s the type of man who would burn down the world for the woman he loves, and that’s the type of man I’m on the hunt for.
“When you insult my love for whiskey, I will get sassy. Take notes,sweetie pie. Whiskey is my favorite.”
“Sweetie pie, huh?” Armor crosses his arms over his chest and snickers, but I think he likes our playful banter.
“Yeah, you look like you’re as sweet as pie. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”
“I’d have to agree to disagree on that one,munchkin.”
“Munchkin?” I raise both of my brows to the nickname Armor’s given me.
“Yeah. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?” He’s throwing my words right back in my face, and it’s hysterical. I finish the rest of my whiskey sour and put the empty glass on the bar for Archer when he’s ready.
“Archer, I’ll settle it when I come back. I doubt my tab’s being closed for the day,” I tell him, and Archer waves a hand in dismissal, but the next thing I know, Armor’s throwing a twenty on the bar.
“I got her drink and your tip,” Armor calls over to Archer as the bar gets a bit rowdier. More people are coming in through the front door, and Armor snakes a hand around my waist, leading me toward one of the doors in the back. We could go in through the storage area and straight out to the back alley, but he takes me through another doorway. This one leads out to a few steps, and we go down them. Sure enough, it’s a straight shot to the back alley.
All of their bikes and cars are parked at an angle, and there’s an overhang over the vehicles. I imagine it must be to shield them from rain or other weather elements. “Why don’t you guys have a garage for all this?”
“In Los Angeles, it’s slim pickings, so we have what we have. It works, so it doesn’t bother us much.”
“Don’t you ever get worried someone might vandalize something or try to steal it?” I question, knowing the vehicles in front of me have to at least add up to six hundred thousand altogether.
“They’d be dead men walkin’ if they ever tried such a thing. People know not to fuck with our shit. Otherwise, we’d be hunting them down, and we always find what we’re looking for.”
Yeah, these guys do remind me a lot of the Reapers Rejects MC, but I think the Satan’s Raiders might be a bit more devious. Then again, I’m sure I don’t know everything my brother or his club has been through. I’m not in the inner fold. Only the members of the club and their ol’ ladies know about everything that goes on behind closed doors.
Armor walks us up to a black Harley Davidson. I don’t know anything about bike styles, makes, or even really models. I can say it looks nice, and there’s even a portion for someone to sit behind him. I wonder if he’s ever had someone take a ride with him, but I’m not sure. Most bikers don’t just let anyone on their bikes with them. From what I’ve heard, it’s only women they’re dating . . . so the fact Armor wants me to be on the back of his bike makes me a bit excited. We have chemistry, and I’m excited to explore some of it with him.
Armor grabs the leather jacket that’s hanging over his handlebars and dusts it off. “It’s gonna be chilly when we get outta there. You don’t have your jacket on like you did earlier, so put this on.”
“I was hot, so I took it off. Do I need to go get it?” In the clubhouse, it tends to get a bit warm after a while. I swear the guys here don’t know what being cold even is. It’s constantly around seventy-six.
“No, just wear mine. It’s already here, and it’s ready.”
“Are you sure?” I question him, raising both of my brows in the process.
“Just wear the jacket, Jada,” Armor tells me, but I still feel weird wearing it.
“You know, usually when guys do stuff like this, it means something else.” I don’t know if this is more than him just being a nice guy, but it very well could be. I’m not the type of woman who likes beating around the bush, so I’m trying to shoot it straight with him.
“I’m just being a gentleman, Jada. I don’t want you catching a chill while we’re out.” Armor hands me his jacket, and I slide into it, then zip it up. His gaze stays on me for a few more minutes than I expect, and I finally look up at him.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Nah, you just look better in it than I do,” he says with a smug smirk. “Anyway, did you want to go shopping, or do you just wanna get away from here for a couple of hours?”
“I need a break. We don’t need to shop at all, but I understand it’s our cover story,” I tell Armor and the same bit of playfulness that was in his eyes earlier today comes back.
“All right. I know just the place to take you,” Armor says, and he grabs one helmet and hands it to me. I pull my hair out from the bun on the top of my head and pull my thick curls back to the base of my neck. Armor, on the other hand, goes over to some locker sort of cabinet drilled into the building and inputs an electronic key code. He grabs another helmet and puts it on his own head.
He mounts the bike first and kicks up the kickstand, then I throw my leg over the bike. I’ve never been on a motorcycle in my life, and now I’m suddenly starting to get worried. Well, maybe I’m not worried, but I am anxious, considering this is new to me.
Armor turns the key, and the bike begins to strum to life. The entire thing vibrates, and he slides down into the alley behind the club. I wrap my arms around him, but he places his feet on the ground and stops the bike. “You’re gonna have to hold onto me tighter than that, Jada.” He pulls my arms around his waist tighter and then puts his hands back on the handlebars. I hold onto Armor just like he showed me.
He takes off, and the two of us weave in and out of Los Angeles traffic. We’re stuck in traffic for a while, and then we get out onto CA-1, otherwise known as the coastal highway. Once we’re on CA-1, we aren’t in any traffic. We’re simply two people riding against the wind. As he drives, I look around, taking in the magnificent view. We’re so close to the ocean, and I haven’t ever seen it. We’re not anywhere near an ocean back home in Montana. The closest thing we have to water is a lake, stream, or river.
I don’t know how long we’re on the road, but eventually, Armor pulls off the interstate into a dirt parking lot of an old-fashioned diner. It reminds me of something you’d see in older movies, where the guys take the girl to get a burger and fries. It’s calledFriday’s, but it’s nothing like TGI. He parks the bike and shuts off the engine. I get off first, and then Armor does. We both take off our helmets and put them on the bike, then the two of us go inside.
