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“And the second…” Squealer presses.
“Hawker was working to bring down the Souls, and not just your Charter. The whole club. The last place he was accounted for was here in Manitou Springs, around the same time as Cooper’s entire corporation ceased. I figured you guys had something to do with that.” I take a deep breath and sit back. Of course, there’s more that needs answering, but that’s pretty much the gist of it.
“You thought we’d paid him off,” he guesses.
“I had a few theories. You could have killed him, or he could have been an ally to you and have your protection. Either way, men like Hawker don't just vanish.”
“Hawker’s a dead man walking,” Squealer assures me. “And it’s a shame you didn’t just admit all this before, we could have cut out a lot of shit. Your brother was a friend to the club,” he tells me softly, and when I feel my eyes filling, I manage to shake them away.
“It’s my round.” I quickly stand up and pick up the empties, taking them over to the bar before he can argue. I order two more from the bartender and take a moment to compose myself.
When I head back to Squealer, I see that look of pity set in his eyes and decide we need to change the subject real quick. The dance floor’s a lot fuller than it was when we arrived, and the woman singing has an incredible voice.
“Dance with me.” I slam the beers on the table.
“Oh, I don’t dance, darlin’.” He shakes his head and laughs.
“And I don’t date bikers, but I’m here, aren’t I?” I rub my lips together and hold out my hand, and he stares at it for a few beats before taking a deep breath, grabbing hold of it, and standing on his feet.
“You tell anybody ‘bout this…,” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Our secret.” I smile, looking over my shoulder as I lead him down the steps to join the other couples on the dance floor.
We stand still in the center of it for a moment, his strong hand resting on my waist and pulling me closer to him. Our bodies start to rock to the rhythm, and I wrap my arms around his neck when he crosses his hands behind my back.
Crazy as it sounds, this feels so much more intimate than anything we’ve done together before, especially when he drops his head so his forehead touches mine, and I look up at him through my lashes. We move slowly, shifting on our feet and dodging the other couples.
A man joins the woman on vocals, singing some country song I’ve never heard before. But the words of the chorus seem to sting me. “I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you.” would be fitting for us, if we had any intention of falling in love with each other. The thought of it is laughable, but I can’t deny feeling something strange happening between us. We’re losing ourselves, just for these few minutes. Forgetting who we are, being a normal couple, out on a date with the potential of a future.
When the song finishes, the beat picks up for the next one, and Squealer pulls back, his blue eyes focused on my lips. I sense what’s coming, I even want it. But I can’t risk any more complications.
Sex to get my kicks is one thing, but this is another. It’s too much. Too intense, and I slide away from him before I fall victim to it.
“Were you about to go all Frank Farmer on me?” I laugh, trying to make light of this awkward situation and the fact it was my stupid idea.
“Frank fuckin’ who?” Squealer handles rejection well.
“Frank Farmer, the Bodyguard. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen that movie.” I stare at him in horror.
“If it’s one of those chick flick bullshit movies, then I can guarantee not,” he assures me, taking my hand and leading me back to our table.
She’s afraid. I can sense it. The way she pulled away from me on that dance floor and the way she’s fidgeting with her fingers now on the car ride home. Tonight, Alex Monroe dropped her guard. It’s not exactly the triumph I was expecting. In fact, she got me feeling kinda sorry for her.
But that doesn't give her a head start in the race to find Hawker. Troj needs Hawker’s blood for what that fucker did to his old lady. Not to mention that the consequences of his actions could have brought the whole club down. A jail sentence ain’t enough.
There’s an awkward silence between us now, and I don't fucking like it, so I put Rogue’s radio on to drown it out.
When we arrive at Alex’s place, I decide to give her the full-date experience and walk her to her door. When her porch light clicks on, so does my realization that I don’t want tonight to be over yet.
I’ve never wanted a woman the way I do her. I don’t fucking understand some of the thoughts that go through my head when I’m with her and the even worse ones that come when I ain’t. Most of the time, she burns under my skin and drives me crazy, but tonight, I've enjoyed spending time with her. She’s loosened up a hell of a lot. Reminded me of the woman I met a month ago.
This is a situation that could be fatal if I let it continue. And it doesn’t matter how much I’ve enjoyed tonight; the fact I don’t want to end it here confirms it was a bad fuckin’ idea.
“Well, I have to admit, for a first-timer, you didn’t do so bad.” Alex nudges me playfully with her shoulder after she’s fished her keys out of her purse.
“You could invite me in?” I suggest, going against the voice screaming in my head.
Jesus, why does the urge to be inside her take over all my senses? I need to get out of here. It would be easy to go back to the club and pick out one of the bitches there, but I don’t want any of them. I want her.
