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He snorts. “Your brother. Fuck, what a douche. Okay, I won’t bother you about it. Let’s get going so you can set up in time.”
He doesn’t wait for my response and instead turns and rounds the front of the pickup, then climbs into the driver’s seat. I climb up into the cab as well, closing the heavy door behind me before I cross my seat belt over my body and click it into place.
We ride to the farmers’ market in comfortable silence. Once we arrive, he helps me set everything up, then starts to leave to go to his father’s booth. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around his forearm.
He turns is head, flicking his gaze to my hand, then it slides back up to meet mine. “Shawn?” he asks.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” I whisper. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
His lips curve up into a small smile. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Lunch?”
Sliding my tongue across my bottom lip, I nod my head. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
He nods his head once, then gives me a lopsided grin before he turns and heads over to his father’s booth. I move around to mine, and a few moments later, the farmers’ market opens. People fill the area in an instant, and to my shock, awe, and surprise, they visit my booth, and none of them, not a single person, snubs my cupcakes or wrinkles their nose in disbelief that they could actually taste good.
In fact, I sell out.
I. Sell. Out.
I’m handing the last cupcake to my last customer when a shadow falls over my table. Lifting my head, I’m not sure who I expect to see, but it isn’t Atomic. Although maybe I should have expected to see him because Elvis did tell me that he came here every week.
“I came to ask you how you are doing, but I can see you did fucking amazing,” he says with a chuckle.
Smiling, I nod my head. “I did. It was a great idea, and now I’ve made enough to buy more supplies and replace some things that need replacing. If I can keep this up, maybe it will be a way to get people into the door of my actual bakery. Or maybe I just need to shift my entire life?”
I laugh to myself as I shake my head, feeling like a gigantic idiot. Like the idiot I am. “I unloaded a lot right there. I’m sorry,” I say.
Atomic clears his throat. “Never be sorry for something like that, babe. And honest to fuck, you ever think you want to do just mobile shit, you’re more than welcome to use the clubhouse kitchen. It’s gourmet.”
“I know,” I say. “I was drooling over it.”
He chuckles. “Nobody cooks but me, so you’re completely free to use it as you wish.”
I start to thank him for his offer when I feel someone step up beside me. Atomic’s eyes widen, and I swing my head to the side and find Austin standing beside me, his gaze narrowed and focused on Atomic.
I swing my gaze back to Atomic. His expression has changed from one of surprise to one of suspicion and anger. Then Austin speaks, and as he does, I can’t do anything but stare at Atomic and watch his expression go from anger to humor in a flash.
“So, are you dating and screwing around with Shawn?” Austin says.
He’s defending my honor, which is so him and very sweet. But there’s no defending my honor with these men. They’ll wipe the floor with him. I’m sure Austin is strong from working on the ranch, and if he were faced with anyone else, I know he would win. But not against any of the men of the Dark Horse MC. They are a completely different breed of tough.
“No, I can say with complete certainty that I am not screwing around with Shawn. We’re just friends.”
Austin nods his head, and Atomic winks at me before he takes a step backward. He reaches out, tapping my table a couple of times. “Think about my offer. It doesn’t expire.”
I almost ask him if it expires when Elvis has decided he’s done with me, which would be now, but I don’t say anything. It’s too depressing to say aloud. I already think it enough as it is. I don’t want to actually verbalize it.
“I’ll see you around,” Atomic says before he turns and walks away. I watch his back, the patches that claim him a Dark Horse MC member across the top. A patch that displays Pineville, Texas, across the bottom.
And then, in the center, a devil skeleton riding a horse. The exact replica of Elvis’s vest. And just the sight of it makes me want him all over again. How silly. A leather vest makes my pussy twitch for him.
Ridiculous.
KING
As I walk up to the farmers’ market, I’m not surprised to see that it’s almost over. It usually doesn’t last long, and it’s almost lunchtime. Parking my bike, I throw my leg over the side and stand tall as I look around the place.
It doesn’t take me long to spot her. I can see her long brown hair like a goddamn beacon shining in the sunlight. My back straightens at the sight of the man standing behind her. Man. I used the term loosely. He’s a kid.
