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She crossed her arms over her chest as she nodded with Lincoln’s assessment. “Agreed. I knew we were compatible. Let me know when you get the concrete. I can help supervise the work.”
Lincoln grinned and she returned it.
Ghost cleared his throat. “Both of you are nuts.”
“I’m not quite sure what just happened,” Ares concluded.
Lincoln patted him on the back as he captured her hand to escort her toward the clubhouse door. “I just called dibs, that’s what happened.”
Chapter Seven
Lincoln didn’t allow her to appreciate the inside of the single-story red brick clubhouse as he pulled her along behind him. Vivi waved to various people, wishing she could talk to them. She’d been alone for so long she craved conversation of any sort.
They stopped at the end of the long hallway and Lincoln rapped upon a door. A muffled voice granted them permission to enter, and Lincoln pulled her inside. A large, scary-looking man sat behind a desk loaded with paperwork, while a very pretty woman sat on a sofa reading something on her phone. Both stopped what they were doing to look questioningly at her.
“Hey, Boss, we’re back,” Lincoln said.
The man frowned. “Back? Where’d you go? And who is she?”
“Barese called in the favor that Thorn owed him.”
He leaned back into his chair. “Go on. What was this favor?”
“Wanted us to pick up a man that was being held by the Heart of Darkness. Thorn brought me along to make sure the transaction wouldn’t be connected in any way to the Death Riders.”
“Where is Thorn?”
“Currently occupied by his wife, I imagine.”
The biker shifted forward to lean on his forearms. “Tell me the both of you didn’t just start a war between the clubs.”
“No,” Lincoln assured him. “Barese had already negotiated. Cross was expecting us.”
He flicked his gaze toward her. “So, who is this?”
“Vivi, this is the club president, Brim.”
She held out her hand. “Brim? Is that short for something?”
“It’s Brimstone,” he replied, taking hold of her hand and shaking it in a greeting.
“Brimstone? Like, with fire? Oh! Do you smoke your enemies? Vanquish them with the heat of your glare?”
“It’s my first name.”
Throwing her hands up in the air, she huffed in annoyance. “I give up. First name, last name, nickname. I’ll never catch onto the rhyme and reason of biker names.”
His brow furrowed. “Did I miss something?”
She opened her mouth to explain, but Lincoln quickly covered her mouth with his hand. “It’s best if you don’t ask questions.”
Vivi shoved off his hand. “You act like I talk too much.”
“You do,” he muttered.
“Rude,” she said, then tilted her head to the side. “But fair.”
“And how did you end up riding with Lincoln?”
