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Her blue eyes popped even more with the darker hair color. It looked like it’d been done at a high-end hair salon. Ma hadn’t lost the talent with the scissors despite the long hiatus.
“You kinda hate it, don’t you?” she pushed.
“Don’t know that your aunt deserves that kindness, baby, but that’s your call. It’s your hair; you do with it what you want; at least there’s still enough to grab onto,” I mused, clenching my fist. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d make sure it stayed that way.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
“And do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“When we get back to the clubhouse, take a shower. You smell like my ma. Know it’s cuz you had to use her shampoo and soap, but it might kill the mood.”
“I should hope it’d kill the mood or else you might need a bit of therapy,” she said, deadpan.
I kissed her.
“I missed you,” she repeated in a husky voice.
“Good,” I said. “And same.”
She clenched my shirt.
“Those words look good on your rack, baby,” I added.
Yeah, I was looking forward to reunion sex.
She looked down at her chest and then smiled. “I think I want one in every color of the rainbow.”
“Tell Ma to make it happen. I’ll foot the bill.”
She giggled.
“Music to my ears,” I told her, then said, “Here,” as I passed her a helmet.
I then turned to a smiling, watching Archer and jerked my chin. He moved toward us. I shook his hand.
“All good?” he asked, “Cleanup a success?”
“Good progress,” I replied.
“Excellent, Come for a weekend soon.”
“Definitely. Thanks for everything.”
“Any time.” He pulled Gigi into a tight hug and whispered something to her and then he waved before he got into his car.
“What he say to you?” I asked, taking in the gentle expression on her face as she watched him pull out.
“He’s just real sweet. He and Fern know how nervous I’ve been about today.”
“Need help with that?” I gestured to the helmet.
She’d been examining it in her hands. At my offer, she bit her lip and looked at me before swallowing and blowing out a hard exhale.
And I didn’t know how to read the new expression on her face, so I jerked my chin up questioningly.
“Last time I was on the back of a motorcycle was when I was a little girl. Great Uncle Billy used to take me for rides.”
“No shit?” I asked.
“No shit,” she confirmed.
A so-called biker bunny that never got on the back of a bike as an adult.
“Well, you’re the first to ride on the back of mine.”
“I am?”
“I don’t let casual hookups on the back of my bike.”
“Or hostages you’re not fucking?” she retorted cheekily.
“Never had a hostage I didn’t fuck,’ I fired back.
She laughed hard and looked gorgeous doing it, the new fringe of her hair swaying sexily over one eye like Jessica Rabbit.
Yeah, the new hairdo was growing on me already.
Bront had a smile on his mug when I looked his way. He was in his car with the windows up, and I could feel the bass thrumming from his stereo, so he had music on loud. He wasn’t eavesdropping, but you couldn’t look at a girl that gorgeous with a big smile on her face, laughing, light in her eyes and not feel something warm slide through you. Unless you were a salty prick like me. Seemed I wasn’t feeling so salty today.
“Today being a new start for the club, time was ripe to give you a ride.”
“I like that,” she whispered.
I put her helmet on her head, put mine on, climbed on and then held her hand while she got on behind me. I signaled to Bront and we rolled out.
It felt very fucking right having her arms wrapped around me the short ride back. And I was looking forward to having her sleep in my sheets tonight, too. Though, I didn’t expect we’d be just sleeping.
16
A line of cars waiting to be washed circled the block. The parking lot was crawling with bikers and their families as well as local folks along with a camera crew. There were even squad cars, the cops looking at ease rather than watching hawkeyed for biker bullshit like they’d typically do.
“Get a load of that,” Speedy mumbled as we were assembling for the picture. This picture would have the entire charter post-Jackals patch-over. It’d be blown up and framed to go on the wall in the new clubhouse hall.
“Get a load of what?” Deke asked.
“Bacon feasting at the donut trough.”
All of our heads swung that way and there were three cops with donuts in their hands, one of them had powdered sugar all over his chin.
That was when the photographer called out, Say cheese, guys! so the picture that was published in the paper, which got plastered all over the internet, and that also later wound up on the wall in our new hall didn’t look like a bunch of intimidating badass bikers. It was mostly laughing faces.
