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Daisy looked like a lovesick teenager.
“They’re so dreamy,” she sighed.
“They’re bikers,” I said. “Outlaws.”
“They’re not just any bikers, Cassidy. They’re Kings.”
Right.
My mistake.
She pushed the curtain down further to get a better view of them.
“See the one that looks like Jason Momoa …? That’s Maverick. He’s so hot he could melt iron,” she gushed. “Oh, look, there’s Cade. He’s their VP and is married to Indy, who is a doctor. Next to him is his brother Caleb—oh my God he is so delicious I could eat him with a spoon. His wife owns a cupcake shop on the other side of town and is expecting twins.”
She seemed to know an awful lot about them. And I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
“The one climbing off his bike … that’s their president, Bull.”
I thought about Bull and his piercing, ethereal eyes. I had only met him briefly the other night.
“And there’s Chance…” She sighed dreamily, resting her head against the glass window. “That boy is pure sex on a stick.”
A small thrill ran up my spine at the mention of his name. I looked out the window, and my eyes lingered on him as he climbed off his bike and secured his helmet to his handlebars.
“You know a lot about them,” I said, ignoring the lust pooling between my thighs.
I didn’t tell her that I had played at the Kings of Mayhem clubhouse two days earlier. Or about Chance chasing down the would-be thief to get my money back. Or how damn sexy he looked as we sat out under the stars and talked for hours.
And I certainly didn’t mention how I had practically assaulted him with my mouth as we waited for my cab to arrive.
Because when you spend your life running from your past, it becomes second nature to keep things to yourself.
The flush of embarrassment licked at my cheeks again when I thought about the kiss. And how for just a second those lips had felt so incredibly amazing against my own.
Without thinking, I reached up and touched my mouth, as if the brush of his lips still lingered there.
“Around here, they’re a big deal,” Daisy explained. “A lot of local girls try to get their hands on a King. Even for just a night, you know?”
I did know.
Two nights ago I was one of those girls, entertaining the idea of a night with my King.
My King?
Oh hell no.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I had no King.
He had made that as plain as the sky was blue.
I sighed and shook my head, refocusing on Daisy.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Old enough,” she said, looking at me with a wicked gleam in her lust-filled eyes. She turned back to the window and sighed. “Boy, what I’d give for one night with any of them.”
“Even the married ones?” I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Any of them. But of course Cade and Caleb are all about their wives and would never cheat on them. And Maverick … well, apparently he’s so smitten by his girlfriend he’s asked her to marry him like a thousand times even though she keeps saying no every time. And Bull… well, everyone knows he lost his heart years ago when his wife died in a car wreck. The rumor is he swore he’d never fall in love again. But a girl can fantasize.” She pressed her hand to the glass. “I guess that leaves Chance.”
Again, my heart started to dance at the mere mention of his name.
Because, clearly, I was losing my mind.
I shook my head to get the craziness out of it as I walked away, leaving Daisy to her King stalking. It would be stupid for me to get caught up in it. As soon as I worked out a new plan, I would be moving on from this town.
Carrying a tray of dishes, I pushed through the swing doors leading into the kitchen and headed toward the sink. Lost in ridiculous thoughts about how good Chance looked climbing off his bike, I didn’t see Molly walking in the back door from the alleyway before it was too late. She opened the door and it sent the tray of dishes in my hand flying. Coffee sloshed down the front of my uniform as cups and plates smashed to the floor.
“Oh my God, Molly, I’m so sorry!” I cried.
I dropped to my knees and began picking up pieces of shattered porcelain.
“It’s okay, pet. Don’t fret.”
She crouched down and began helping me clean up the mess.
“I’m not usually so clumsy,” I said, feeling like a klutz. First the spilled milk on the truckers lap then a dropped piece of cherry pie on the floor. Now this. My first day could end up being my last day.
“No point in crying over spilled milk,” Molly said.
“Or in this case coffee,” Daisy added lamely from the doorway.
