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Birdie tripped on Sawyer’s large boot. He turned and caught her as she fell.
“You okay?”
“Yes. Thanks,” she added as he set her back on her feet.
It was ironic that, in fact, it was Sawyer who was forcing her to go to the wedding and not the other way around. But it made more sense to everyone that the big, hot Duke brother wouldn’t date someone like her.
The dance took ten minutes, and she usually enjoyed it. Now Birdie just wanted it done. She didn’t make enemies or piss people off, but right then, stepping out of her lane and being connected to Sawyer Duke was doing just that.
When the song was finished, she pulled her hand from Sawyer’s and hurried to her bike.
“No goodbye for your date?”
She spun back to look at Sawyer, who had followed her. Behind him stood Sydney Jane, shooting daggers out of her eyes.
“You’re a blackmailing asshole, so no.” Birdie pulled her bike out of the rack, but Grady Simpkins had put his in behind hers, and they were tangled. Clearly, he’d been in a hurry to join their dance circle.
“Fudge nuggets!” Birdie yanked hard.
Hands lifted her out of the way, and then Sawyer was untangling the bikes. He rolled hers at her.
“What is a fudge nugget, and do I want to know?”
She snatched her bike, climbed on, and tried to pedal away. The bike didn’t move.
“Put your helmet on,” Sawyer said, holding the back of her bike. He then unclipped it from behind her seat and lowered it to her head.
She slapped his hands aside when he tried to do up the fastening like a bad-tempered child. Once she’d done it, Birdie raised a single finger and cycled away, and this time he let her.
And that was another thing. She was never rude. Manners were important. They made her different from people like Sawyer Duke, who didn’t have any. He’d been helping her. Ensuring she was safe with her helmet on, and she’d been rude in return.
The sooner this wedding was over, the better. The only problem with that was he would always know what she’d been doing at night when her door was closed. Would he keep his word and hold her secrets?
Her cycle home was faster than normal because she was angry. Walking in her front door, she tripped over a box of her parents’ vegan dog treats, which didn’t lighten her mood any. Birdie put Sawyer out of her head. She needed to focus now and think about the money she needed to win to cover what she’d lose in wages by going to the wedding.
She spat out a few foul words directed at the oldest Duke and then stomped into the bathroom.
Chapter9
Sawyer didn’t have many things in his life he was passionate about. His family was important to him. He loved them and would do whatever it took to protect them, just like he would his dogs.
But his restored 1967 Pontiac Firebird was something that had kept him sane when he’d first come back to Lyntacky. It had been his father’s, and he’d died before he could restore it.
From the day Sawyer had pushed it out of his mom’s shed when he returned from LA, this car had become his. He’d poured out a lot of suppressed rage into the rebuild. His brothers had helped him too, showing up when he’d needed it to work alongside him.
Driving down the long road with his foot on the gas and the engine’s throaty purr filling the air, thoughts of Birdie McAllister and the colossal fuckup he’d made in blackmailing her receded.
He’d needed this to clear his head. The sun was sinking as he reduced speed and drove into the town of Sauce. Lyntacky was home, but this place was two hours from it and the ideal location to take a ride in Flo. Ally had named her Flo the Firebird. It had stuck.
He’d get a beer and some food before returning home. Pulling up outside the Gray Dog, Sawyer eyed the bikes. Gleaming tanks and polished metal. He knew some of the Bandits motorcycle club came here to drink, but it didn’t stop him from getting out and going inside.
The music was loud, pool tables full, and the no smoking in a public place ordinance hadn’t reached the Dog yet, as locals called it. The air was thick with a haze.
“Well, hell, it’s a Duke on the loose. Who knew any of you had the balls to leave Lyntacky?”
Sawyer ignored the large biker in leathers to his left. The Dukes hadn’t put up with Bandits causing trouble in their town, and Uncle Asher locked them up if they stepped a foot out of line. The result was a few Bandits didn’t like anyone named Duke.
“Talking to you, Duke.” A biker stepped into his path.
