Mariah was bummed when Cody dropped her off and left. No kiss, no exchanging of phone numbers. Nothing. Not that she should have expected it. Over the next few days, she was even more bummed to learn that the repairs on her car were more than a simple fix. The cop and Cody had called it: It had been tampered with. Now the police were trying to sort it out, and the car had to sit while it was examined by the authorities.

Her roadside service towed the car to the mechanic’s on the house since they hadn’t picked up when she called. She was spared that cost. But she had to get herself another set of wheels for sure. Since her bandmates lived at the other end of Baltimore, for the time being, Mariah would have to settle with cab rides. Expensive but doable.

A week passed since that hellish, but strangely brilliant, night when she was rescued by Cody Dallas. Her knight on chrome armor, she’d dubbed him. It was a drag she would never see him again. Well, she saw him again in her mind as often as she could. And in bed, which turned out to be a lot.

She was pretty sure she lost some of the costume jewelry she wore on stage in one of his bags.

It was dumb, but suddenly all she could think of was that she needed that jewelry back. It made the perfect excuse to see him again. But it wasn’t like she was going to search the Net for ‘Cody’ and get his number.

She had a gig at Carl’s Little Big House for the evening. She and her band played there all the time. It was a notorious biker hangout. In fact, most of the places – Harry’s included – were the biker hot spots. She wondered how she had never seen Cody before.

That night, Mariah dressed for the gig like she might see him. She put on a cowling, silver-threaded spandex that looked almost liquid. The dress hugged her where it needed to and it spilled and revealed in all the right places. She rolled her layered hair and gave herself almost a ‘70s look.

She threw on her leather jacket; not because she expected to be chilled in the balmy June heat but because it reminded her of Cody. It turned her on pretending she was dressing for him. She would have to lose the jacket later, or just carry it around. It’d be too heavy in the bar and she couldn’t wear it on stage.

The bikes in the parking lot of Carl’s also brought Cody to mind. In fact, she mused, the man just really never left her head. She might just have to start stalking him. She laughed and tried to push him from her mind and focus on the gig.

Mariah and the guys in the band were in the middle of a sound check, her back to what would eventually be the audience, when she was jerked from the bandstand.

“What the fu—?” she began, but fear shut her up.

Nelson Primeaux, the wrong damn biker who wouldn’t leave her alone, stared her down, his features beady with rage. He was easily six feet tall and then some, and in pretty good shape. Her base player once joked he was built like a longshoreman. The damn idiot wouldn’t leave her alone; even when she screamed at him at the top of her lungs, many times, to go away.

“Damn it!” she cursed. “Leave me alone. Get it? What part of ‘restraining order’ do you not understand? Leave me alone! I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“How the fuck is it okay for you to go joy-riding on the back of some other guy’s bike?” he hissed. “So all that ‘I don’t date’ shit was total bullshit!”

“Am I not explaining myself to you? I don’t date you. Now go away,” she demanded. “I’ve got a gig to set up.”

Mariah’s drummer, Lenny, called for help, using the microphone, “Hey, Beale, can you call the cops? This asshole is bothering Mariah again,” he said.

Nelson shoved passed Mariah and lunged for Lenny. Mariah teetered to the side and Lenny fell back into the drums. The base player was hemmed in, unable to help, though he started whacking Nelson with his drumsticks. Mariah finally lost her balance completely, her vision blocked by the mess of her own hair in her eyes and a curtain ripping and tumbling down on top of her.

So she couldn’t see when Nelson was plucked off of Lenny, and who did the plucking. She cleared herself from the tangling mess of cloth and then her hair from her face, to see Cody Dallas and a friend of his restrain Nelson and help Lenny up.

“Mariah,” said Lenny breathlessly.

Poor Lenny looked like an injured animal. He and the band often felt dwarfed by the mega-bikers. He shook his arms and circled his wrists. “I feel like a fuckin’ wuss,” Lenny declared. “But my fuckin’ arms are okay. I can play. My ass bone is killin’ me.” He shook his head and glared at Nelson. “I’ll fuckin’ break your neck with my drumsticks, asshole.”

“Don’t sweat it,” said Cody as he watched Lenny get up, and then shot Nelson a pissed off glare. “Took two of us. This is my buddy, Andy. And for what it’s worth, we can’t play guitar.”

But Lenny had lost it. Months and months of Nelson’s harassment had taken its toll and let loose. “Asshole!” he shouted to Nelson. “Leave her the fuck alone!”

Lenny drew back his leg and landed Nelson with a pretty powerful sidekick. Despite having his arms held behind his back by Cody, Nelson fell straight to the floor on his butt.

“That’s your ass,” Nelson hissed. “Music boy had a little after-school karate? I’m going to break that leg and feed it to my dogs.” He laughed wickedly.

Cody slapped Nelson upside the head and leaned over him, grabbing him roughly by his shirt. “Knock it off,” Cody said casually.

“You wanna go a couple rounds, punk?”

“Nah, it ain’t worth my time.” His smile turned into a snarl. “Seeing as how I’m the guy who drove the lovely Mariah home.”

Nelson struggled to get his fist out to land something on Cody. Because of the size and strength of Cody’s arms, he had no problem holding Nelson down until the police arrived. Nelson was furious, but must have known better than to try and throw any sucker-punches Cody’s way. The cops took the band’s statements as one of them verified the restraining order Mariah had against Nelson. They cuffed the fuming Nelson and dragged him away to a waiting cop car.

“That’s an amazing coincidence,” said Mariah to Cody, unable to stop staring at his handsome face, the straight line of his jaw with just the perfect amount of stubble and his bright green eyes. How had she missed the green and hazel coloring? “That’s twice you’ve shown up when I needed you.” She reached for his shirt and pulled the collar down slightly, unable to miss the strong expansive of tight muscle. “You sure you’re not wearing a Superman outfit under there?”

“I promise you, on my honor as a Dark Rider, I’m not Superman. Nor am I stalking you,” Cody teased. “These must have fallen out of your stuff into my bag.”

He pulled a small bag out of his back pocket. It was Mariah’s stage jewelry.

“Thanks! I didn’t realize I’d been missing it,” she pretended and hated the fact she now didn’t have an excuse to see him again.

“I took a chance you had a website that listed your engagements, and voilà!” he said. “We come here all the time, so it wasn’t a special trip.”

“We?” Mariah heard the disappointment in her own voice. Damn, she thought, ‘We’ means he has a girlfriend, which totally sucked because he was becoming more perfect every time he opened his mouth.

“Dark Riders. Carl’s Little Big House is our favorite watering hole. A biker’s haven. You picked up on that, right?” The corners of his lips curled up.

“I don’t know guys from bikers unless they’re on a bike. I always figure I’m singing to good ol’ working-class America.”

“That too, probably. Bikers take all kinds.” He looked behind her to see the band finishing their set, the drums all back where they should be. “Mind if we stay for a couple of sets?”

Suddenly she was nervous. Singing to strangers was one thing. But there was something about Cody that made Mariah feel vulnerable. She wasn’t sure if she could sing in front of him. Just the thought of it released a powerful blush that burned her face.

“You okay?” he asked her, and touched her face tenderly.

She leaned into his hand, letting his thumb rub over her lip.

“You look a little hot,” he said wickedly. “Are you hot, Miss Mariah?”

She had no words. She imagined what his touch could do to other places on her body. What those fingers were capable of starting.

He kept it up. “Can I get you a drink?” he offered. “Water? Whiskey? Or something else?”

“No.” She swallowed. “I’m fine,” she lied.

He tilted his head and smiled a cocky, knowing look. “Why do I get the feeling people have a hard time doing nice things for you because you won’t let them?”

She blinked with surprise. “Okay,” she relented. “A tall glass of ice water please.”

“That’s more like it,” he said with a wink.

That wink could be dangerous, thought Mariah. It sent a flutter of heat through her body that made her feel like sex. With him. Mariah knew clearly that she wanted to fuck Cody Dallas at least once in her lifetime. If she were the predatory type, she could go on the hunt for him immediately, except she was tired and so done with men. Especially because of the trouble Nelson had caused. No more bikers. No more men—for a little while. “After the first set. I don’t need anything now,” she called out to him as he walked away.

She glanced around the bar. The place had filled up quickly. Mariah noticed a similarity, that many of the patrons sported emblems.

One she could make out. The Robinson Street biker emblem. Friends of Nelson Primeaux. Maybe it was a coincidence, but Mariah didn’t think so. More like word spread quickly that they were the reason Nelson got jacked and she was about to be delivered a message.

Cymbals crashed to the ground, and a very nervous Lenny scurried to pick the stand up. Mariah and the other band members exchanged looks as they began to play. The first songs went through on automatic, but the bar continued to fill. The whole situation was throwing them off and they were beginning to lose count and playing really badly. After four songs, Mariah decided to pause and talk to them. Her eyes roamed the bar and settled on a table with a set of barbell biceps resting on it.

“We’re taking a short break. We’ll be right back. I’m Mariah Brannigan, and my band’s Gravel.”

Lenny mumbled something about needing a drink. “Come on; I’ve got an idea,” Mariah said to Lenny and she sauntered off-stage to Cody’s table. He sat, Adam on a stool beside him, both drinking, and watching them.

She smiled when he caught her coming his way. “We’re seeing that there are an awful lot of Nelson’s boys here,” Mariah said to him when she was within earshot.

“We noticed the same. What exactly did you do to piss him off? I didn’t think he had a heart to break.” Cody smirked, obviously pleased he’d stepped in earlier and put Nelson to the floor.

Cody Dallas had the greenest eyes Mariah had ever seen in real life. It was as if someone photo-shopped him, they were that perfect. A tangle of wild, thick eyelashes thatched his lids. His rich brown hair was equally wild, short, but curls and wild waves were trying to break through the minute it was long enough. He’s striking, thought Mariah. Just gorgeous. And close enough to kiss.

“She didn’t do anything,” Lenny interjected hotly on her behalf.

Cody put his hands up in truce. “Take it easy, buddy,” said Cody. “I was teasing. You know how to joke? Ha-ha?”

“There’s nothing funny about this. We can’t work because some guy has her up his ass. Or he wants up hers. What the fuck!” Lenny grabbed the bottle of beer Cody offered and took a long swig. “My drums are all fucked up, too. It works, but it’s not the same.”

“They expensive?” Cody asked.

Lenny nodded. “They’re worth more than some people’s cars. Or bikes.”

Adam suggested they get insurance involved or have the bar pay for it.

Lenny looked at the guy like he was an idiot. Mariah covered her mouth, trying to hide her smile. Skinny Lenny ticked was comical. Lenny glared at the biker. “We can’t make any sort of claim against Carl’s, or Beale will never let us back. I want this asshole stopped!” Lenny slammed his empty bottle on the table.

“So how’d this all happen?” asked Cody, narrowing in on Mariah.

But Lenny butted in angrily, “She was singing. Primeaux asked her out. She said no.”

Cody smiled but Mariah could tell he was just being polite. “Can I hear what she has to say?”

He winked again, only this time it meant something else. It still stirred her. She loved it. She would definitely be replaying the wink in her mind over and over again for days to come. Mariah was looking forward to the next time he did it.

“Fine!” Lenny huffed. “I need another beer anyways.” He stomped toward the bar, his skinny frame looking even more out of place amongst the large bikers around him.

“So what happened?” Cody asked Mariah.

“Lenny described it.” She shrugged. “We had a long-standing gig at Virgo’s, and Nelson started showing up. He was fine at first but then he wouldn’t go. Other people would come up and say hi, or ask for autographs, or just want to talk to the band. Except ugly, dumb-ass Nelson was hanging around. He scared them away.” She noticed a tall glass of ice water beside Cody’s whiskey and slid her arm across the table. She curled her fingers around the glass, taking a moment to enjoy the coldness against her warm palm. “What can you do? I pretended to be gracious, but then it got annoying.”

“And if you don’t say go away, he thinks you like him. I get it,” said Cody. “Gotta be awful to be a beautiful woman in the public eye.”

The compliment jolted Mariah. She knew she was attractive, generally speaking, but to hear him say so was startling. She tried to not be obvious when she sat up a little straighter.

“That may be, but now her problem has become our problem,” said Lenny as he returned with two bottles of beer and handed one to Cody. “I’m the reason Nelson got hauled in. I feel like I have a price on my head.”

“You do,” said a huge man at a round top, cryptically.

He was the kind of huge where he was sort of fat but enormous and definitely had muscle underneath. A couple of the Robinson Street bikers pulled their chairs very closely behind Cody and Adam in particular, till their faces were almost cheek to cheek. Cody glanced at Mariah darkly, like all hell was about to break loose.

Lenny took a step forward toward the man but Cody instinctively held him back. Mariah saw as the muscles in Cody’s arms bulged with power. He nodded to Adam, who was anticipating his signal. Adam rose from the table and headed outside, but returned quickly.

Minutes later, a hum grew louder and louder, seemingly cramming against the walls of Carl’s. Some ten bikers with the Dark Riders insignia filed into the bar. Mariah thought there would be more, given the noise of the bikes. She didn’t feel easy at all with the bikers being there. But her bandmates liked it.

“Is that better?” Cody asked the band.

They smiled. Even Lenny nodded reluctantly.

“Back on stage, guys,” Mariah said. They reassembled on the stage and began playing the second set.

“I dedicate this to Cody Dallas,” Mariah said flirtatiously. She proceeded to kill the song, giving one of her best performances ever.

Cody raised a glass to her and winked.