“So this horn dog,” Durango said, jerking his thumb at Gunner. “He’s mackin’ on this chick who’s like forty, right?”

 

Gunner choked with laughter as he swigged his beer. “She’s not forty.” He wiped his mouth.

 

“And I mean, yeah, she looks great. Tits out to here.” Durango gestured. “But he’s so hard up, he’s goin’ cougar hunting now.”

 

Chevy, the Horned Devils’ Vice President, laughed so hard that beer nearly shot out of his nose. He slapped the seat of the booth. “Man, you’re a wild son of a bitch, ain’t you?” Chevy was short, lean, and hungry looking. He seemed to exist in a perpetual fighter’s crouch. Ugly mug — scarred to hell from a knife fight when he was twenty — but actually a pretty cool guy. Little, needy for Gunner’s taste. The Devils all joked that Chevy could nag and cling like a woman. Gunner preferred riding with Durango, who, for all that he gave Gunner a hard time, was loyal as hell, and as even-tempered as a tattooed biker could be expected to be.

 

Gunner shrugged, trying for his usual cocky grin. “She’s got a set on her.”

 

Silverback shifted, looking unimpressed. He was built like his namesake — a hulking, hunched-shouldered, broad-armed man who was gruff but docile most of the time, yet he wouldn’t hesitate to beat his chest and roar when threatened. The furrows in his leathery brow deepened, and his dark eyes flashed. “My wife is fifty-five. Stunner. And you’re saying a forty-year-old woman’s too old to be a decent fuck?”

 

“Naw!” Chevy backtracked quickly. “Too old forGunner, I mean.”

 

Silverback didn’t answer. But when Gunner glanced down, he saw the old man was drumming his fingers rapidly against his thigh, the way he used to do sometimes when Gunner was younger and getting on his nerves.

 

Durango apparently noticed it too. “What’s goin’ on, old man? You been acting weird since yesterday.”

 

Silverback shook his head.

 

“Turf wars? Need us to move something? Bust a few heads? What?”

 

Silverback gave a half sigh, half grunt. “There might be some missions in the coming days. Nothing to concern yourselves with now.”

 

Gunner’s heart beat faster. Just the thought of a mission could do that to him. Roaring down the open highways with his brothers, guns strapped to him, speeding toward his target. Nothing in his head but the roar of a dozen or more bikes. Dust in his teeth and coating hiss throat, gnats going kamikaze against his forehead. The stares they got as they blazed through town, the horizon opening up to them on those occasions where they left civilization and headed out into the desert.

 

Silverback looked away from them. If he didn’t want to talk, it was best not to press him.

 

Silverback’s personal history was still something of a mystery to the Horned Devils. Gunner gathered that the man had been raised in San Antonio. That he’d spent at least part of his youth on the streets. That he’d been married, once upon a time. There’d been a stay in prison, which Cesar never gave details about. The guy had scars — long, thin, ropy bands running from his upper chest along his right arm. Hell, all of ’em had scars, somewhere or another. But Silverback’s and Chevy’s were the most obvious.

 

Gunner glanced at the door. He was antsy tonight too, for some reason. Normally he loved hanging out here at Hammered and Nailed, shooting the shit with the guys. But tonight, he was distracted. Maybe it was having Peggy or Patty or whatever the hell her name was show up at the shop. Maybe it was news of the new girl in town — Gunner hadn’t even gotten her name. Maybe it was the fact that something was definitely weird about Silverback.

 

“Gunner!” Durango snapped his fingers. “Earth to Gunner. We’re talkin’ about the bike Chevy’s getting. Once he’s rich.”

 

“When pigs fly, in other words,” Silverback said drily. Everyone knew that whatever cut of the profits Chevy got from club business, he spent it all on weed and porn subscriptions. And bells and whistles for his current bike, a scuffed up Yamaha that sounded like a dying cat when it started.

 

Chevy laughed. “Hey, I’m well on my way, all right? One more shakedown…”

 

“What’re you getting?” Gunner asked.

 

“Low rider S. Dark red. Silver trim.”

 

Durango grinned, taking a gulp of beer. “You’ll look like you’re riding a giant candy cane.”

 

“Hell no. They come in blue now. I’m gonna—” He stopped dead, gaze on the front of the door. “Ho-lyfuck.”

 

Gunner turned. A woman had just walked into the bar. A young brunette, with pale, smooth skin and carefully shaped black brows. She had full lips, wide, dark eyes, and a hint of a flush in her cheeks visible even in the dim bar light. Her rich brown hair was twisted up and pinned, but a couple of long, dark curls spilled down and brushed her slim neck. And damn, if she wasn’t just Gunner’s type — short, but not too short, with curves in all the right places. She was wearing a high-cut, sleeveless burgundy dress that hugged her breasts and ass, and black strappy heels. That ass — she turned around anddamn, Gunner would’ve gone to his knees for that ass.

 

She wasn’t that fake kind of beautiful like a lot of Texas girls, with their poofy, dyed blond hair and silicone tits. She was a natural beauty, with a gentle air about her that made Gunner forget how to speak. Probably a first.

 

Durango whistled softly. “Gunner, there’s your new girl in town, I’m guessing.”

 

Silverback had turned in his seat and was eyeing the young woman almost suspiciously. He turned back to the group. “That’s Kelly Powers. Her father bought up the general goods store on DeWitt.”

 

“You’re like some little old porch lady, you know,” Durango said. “Keepin’ tabs on everyone in town.”

 

Silverback grunted. “Can’t get a read on him.”

 

“Who cares about a read onhim?” Chevy asked. “I wanna readher all night long.”

 

Durango snorted. “That makes no sense, dude.”

 

“She’s a ten, man. No, fuck that — she’s like a fifteen.”

 

Gunner was staring at Kelly again. She was up at the bar, scanning the beer list on the chalkboard.

 

Durango clapped him on the shoulder. “What the hell? Why aren’t you up there buying her a drinkyesterday?”

 

Gunner’s heart thudded.Seriously, what the hell?He’d never been fuckingnervous around a girl before. But Kelly Powers really was a fifteen. She didn’t ooze sexual energy like most of the girls Gunner went for. In fact, she seemed reserved — the kind of girl who was just waiting for someone to unleash her inner freak.

 

He wanted to be that someone.

 

He stood, sliding his chair back. “Gentlemen. Watch and learn.”

 

He grinned with a confidence he didn’t quite feel and strode up to the bar, heart still pounding. Kelly was sitting now, talking animatedly with Rex, the bartender. Gunner leaned into the space beside her, placing his forearms on the bar.

 

She didn’t even glance at him. Just kept talking to Rex.

 

Huh?

 

He waited patiently, like a good boy. When Rex finally turned to him, shooting him a dirty look, he ordered a beer and threw Kelly a smile. She offered a brief smile back, but didn’t drop her gaze to his chest or his crotch. Didn’t eye his tattoos or admire his muscled arms. She just turned her attention to the TV behind the bar.

 

Well, this was new.

 

“You need another beer?” he asked.

 

“No thanks,” she said, without looking at him. Even her voice was hot. Low, a little smoky. Like she ought to be speaking to him over a long, silver cigarette holder.

 

He noticed her little … purse? Was it still a purse if it was that tiny? She was a Reds fan, apparently. “You from Cincinnati?”

 

“I was born there.”

 

He edged in a little closer. “Yeah? Is Ohio as bad as they say?”

 

“Who’s they?”

 

He accepted his beer from Rex. “You know.They. They say you should get eight hours of sleep a night. They say eat your veggies. They say alcohol’s bad for you.”

 

She finally turned to him. “Dothey also say you shouldn’t bother someone who’s trying to watch the game?” It wasn’t a cold rebuke, though. She sounded amused.

 

Touché.

 

“Actually, I’m pretty sure they say live with no regrets.” He took a swig of beer. “And I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t come talk to you.”

 

She rolled her eyes, but laughed. “What a charmer.” He couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or not.

 

“So who’s winning?” Baseball was the most boring-ass sport of all time, but he could pretend to be interested.

 

She checked the screen again. “Orioles.”

 

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

 

She faced him and his stomach did a dive at the sparkle in those hazel eyes. “I don’t care much for either team.”

 

“So why are you watching?”

 

“To avoid talking to you.”

 

He gave a surprised bark of laughter. “Why do you want to avoid talking to me?” He was aware of Rex still giving him the side-eye.

 

“Because you look like trouble.” That sparkle again. She might be a quiet one, but she had a sense of humor. Good.

 

“Haven’t seen you around before.”

 

“I just moved here yesterday.”

 

“Seriously?” he feigned surprise.

 

“Seriously.”

 

“How’s Romedo treating you so far?”

 

She shrugged. “Not too bad.”

 

He slid onto the stool next to her. “What do you do?”

 

“For work or for pleasure?”

 

“Both. Either.”

 

“I’m here for school.” She glanced slightly to the side when she said it, and a hint of sadness came over her expression. Or maybe Gunner imagined it. Shit, he wasn’t great at emotional stuff. “I graduated from a pre-med program last spring. Now I’m gonna start a nursing program.”

 

“Up at the University?”

 

“Yeah. Classes start in a month. Crazy, right? Haven’t even unpacked our boxes, and he’s already set up shop, and I’m enrolled in school.”

 

“You must be tired.”Looking for a little stress relief? He bit his tongue before he actually said it. She wasn’t the kind of girl he could go full throttle with, not right away.

 

“I’m all right.”

 

You’re more than all right.

 

He glanced round as the bar door opened — Silverback was leaving. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. The prez rarely hung out drinking with the whippersnappers for long. Except that a quick glance back at his table conformed Silverback had barely touched his beer. Chevy and Durango were laughing at something on Chevy’s phone. They didn’t seem concerned. Gunner let it go.

 

Kelly asked, “Are your friends missing you?”

 

His attention snapped back to her. He grinned and purposely shifted so that the arm closest to her flexed. “You tryin’ to get rid of me?”

 

“Maybe.” She gentled the tease with another smile.

 

Damn. A man might do just about anything for that smile. “Most people find me charming, you know.”

 

She took a good look at him for the first time. “I’ll bet they do.”

 

He could feel something between them, something electric and crackling. Could smell her shampoo, the slightest hint of perfume, and something else, something indefinable that made him lust in a way he never had before.

 

She took a sip of her drink and leaned a little closer. God, he wanted to bury a hand in that thick, dark hair, kiss the crook of her pale shoulder until her head tipped back and she sighed. A predatory feeling rose within him. He had no interest in forcing her or wearing her down. But he wanted toseduce her. Wanted to see those hazel eyes lit with pure pleasure, wanted to see those full lips part to let out a helpless moan. Wanted to see that perfectly smooth skin shining with sweat, those flawlessly arched eyebrows knitting together as she whimpered his name and begged him to go deeper, harder, faster.

 

Shit. He had it worse than bad for this girl.

 

“That your bike out there?” she asked, with a nod toward the door. The front tire of Gunner’s Cruiser was just visible through the glass.

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

“It looks big, loud, and dirty.”

 

“Like me?”

 

“Like you,” she confirmed. Her gaze fell on the tattoo on his right bicep. A skeleton, trailing fire from its skull, riding a flaming motorcycle through a cavernous heart. A curling banner draped across the heart read: BROTHERHOOD. She looked suddenly less sure of herself. The smile was gone.

 

He shifted. “I ain’t so bad when you get to know me.”

 

“I never said big, loud, and dirty was bad.” She offered another smile, this one closed-lipped, demure. His chest clenched.

 

“You like bikes?” he asked, feeling dumber than a cow patty.

 

“I do, actually.”

 

“You ride?”

 

She shook her head, a little wistful. “My dad won’t let me.”

 

“Won’tletyou? How oldare you?” One look at her expression and he knew he’d fucked up. “Sorry. Just…”

 

“I’m twenty-three,” she said, tone suddenly cool, almost defensive. “But my dad and I are close. We’ve had to rely on each other ever since…” She trailed off, shaking her head. Clearly, she didn’t want to get into it. “I respect him,” she finished firmly.

 

“Sure.” Gunner nodded. “Me and my old man were close too.”Before he went and drank himself stupid and put his truck through a guardrail and left me alone with the raving bitch from hell. No point in coming out with the whole sob story now. This was already way too deep for a barstool conversation with a chick he was hoping to bang.

 

She seemed to warm again. “Does your family live around here?”

 

“Been here for generations.”

 

She looked at him with those penetrating hazel eyes, and he was reminded once more that she wasn’t just any girl. He got the feeling she was looking right into his soul, if he had one.

 

“So if you could ride,” he said. “You would?”

 

She gazed evenly at him, her chin tilted slightly. “You’re damn right I would.”

 

That electricity between them grew unbearably hot and forceful. He could almost feel her soft lips brushing his, hear her moan as he teased her with his tongue, kissing her harder and deeper until they were both fucking lost in it. He tensed, his dick hardening.

 

He was just about to go for it — just about to ask if she wanted to go riding, when suddenly Durango was at his side.

 

“Gunner?”

 

Jesus Fucking Christ. Cockblock much?

 

Except Durango wouldn’t be here, speaking in that low, urgent tone, unless it was … urgent.

 

“What is it?” Gunner tried to keep the irritation from his tone.

 

Durango dropped his voice so low Gunner could barely hear it. “Silverback’s got a mission for us.”

 

“What?”

 

“Unsanctioned drug deal outside of town. Near the border. He wants us to stake it out. Run ’em off.”

 

“Aw hell.”

 

“He’s already back at the clubhouse. We gotta go now.”

 

Gunner glanced at Kelly, who was watching him sharply, as if the appearance of this new tattooed biker confirmed what she’d suspected all along — that Gunner was bad news, and she was better off not getting involved.

 

Hell. This little assignment of Silverback’s sounded easy enough. Maybe he’d be back in time to make an actual pass at Kelly.

 

“Sorry,” he told her, forcing a grin. “Gotta run.” He wanted to ask if she planned on sticking around awhile, but he didn’t want to sound too desperate.

 

Kelly simply nodded. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”

 

That was it?

 

What’d I expect? We’ve known each other all of ten minutes.

 

She glanced back at the screen. Gunner followed her gaze, watched the Orioles score a run. Damn, she was a tough nut to crack. He’d definitely stop in again later, see if she was still here.

 

For now, he said, “Yeah, you too,” and headed back to the table to grab his leather jacket.