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“Where do you want to eat?”
Imogen grabbed the helmet from me and plopped it on her head. “We have bar food, Chinese, and a diner. What are you in the mood for?”
“I’m not picky at all, babe. I can find something to eat at any of those places.”
She snapped the strap under her chin. “And there is also a bowling alley that has food. Bar food, but you can bowl while you scarf down the greasy deliciousness.”
“You bowl, babe?”
Imogen looked good tonight, and watching her prance down the alley in her tight jeans, and maroon shirt stretched across her chest seemed like a good way to spend the evening.
She climbed on behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I’ve been known to knock some pins down from time to time. Though normally it’s with Dorothy, and she wipes the floor with me every time.”
“Are you hinting that you want your friend to come with us?” I asked. I wanted Imogen to be comfortable, and if having Dorothy with us would do that for her, I was fine with it. I would have the next three or four days with her.
“No,” Imogen laughed. “I was just trying to tell you that I suck at bowling but am good at eating the food. They even each other out in the end.”
I chuckled and cranked up the bike. “Well, point me toward the bowling alley, babe.”
She pointed to the right. “That way, and then a left at the stop light. We’ll run right into the place.”
I pointed the bike in the direction she pointed and rocketed out of the parking lot. Her arms wrapped tight around me, and I could feel her breath on my ear.
I hadn’t had many women ride on the back of my bike.
It was a special place to be, and I didn’t let just any woman take that space.
Imogen wasn’t any woman.
She was the girl who had stolen my heart on the playground over twenty years ago, and even though we had been through some horrible shit, she still had my heart.
All these years of not talking or knowing where the other was, I still belonged to her. She had been my family before I found the RBMC. Now I had the RBMC, and she fit in like she had known the club her whole life.
We pulled into the bowling alley parking lot, and there were only a handful of cars in the parking lot.
“Not very busy,” I called.
Imogen took off the helmet and handed it to me. “It’s a small town, and it’s a Tuesday, Mace. This isn’t Sacramento.”
I hung the helmet on the handlebars and reached for Imogen’s hand. “You ready to show me what kind of bowler you are?”
She hesitantly threaded her fingers with mine, and I pulled her toward the front door.
“A bad one,” she laughed. “I was not joking when I said I was better at eating than bowling.”
“Then I guess we’re both going to be bad because I cannot tell you the last time I was bowling.” We stepped inside, and everyone’s eyes turned on us.
“Welcome to Jackson,” Imogen whispered. “Everyone wants to know who you are and why you’re hanging out with me.” She tipped her head back to look at me and smiled softly.
“I’m Mace, and I’m hanging out with you because you’re beautiful, funny, and have the purest soul.” She licked her lips, and my dick jumped in my pants. “Think that’ll be a good enough explanation?”
“I think that will do,” she sighed.
“Imogen!” someone called.
“You good?” I asked.
“Uh, well, I just walked into my local bowling alley with a hot biker holding my hand, and I think there might be something wrong with the ventilation in here because I suddenly can’t breathe.”
