Chapter Six
Amelia
The Sunday lunchtime rush at the diner has eased, and I’m taking a ten-minute break at one of the small tables by the window when my cell rings. It’s Rex. I fork my fingers through my hair, but it doesn’t help the nervous pitch in my stomach.
I can’t avoid his calls forever. The sooner I get this over with the better. “Hey.”
“You didn’t answer my text.” His voice is gravelly but not in a sexy way. In fact, when he turned up last week I hardly recognized him from when I was a teen and had a secret crush on him. Talk about ageing badly. He looks nearer fifty than thirty.
“I’ve been busy.”
He has a coughing fit, and I fidget with my charm bracelet until he manages to catch his breath. “Thought as much. You had no trouble getting close to Reynolds?”
The scene in the kitchen floods my mind, just like it had several times during the night. “No. Well, I mean…”
He laughs, and it sends a shudder along my spine as though he’s the evil villain, which is crazy, since that role is filled by Axle Reynolds.
Who also happens to be dead…
I grip my cell tighter, not sure I want to know where my thoughts are taking me.
“That’s my girl.” He sounds satisfied, and I don’t like his tone. “You reel him in good and tight, Amy. I’ll do the rest.”
“Look, about that. I’m not sure—”
“You fucked him yet?” The question is so casual that I forget my irritation at being interrupted for the second time.
“Of course I haven’t.” I hiss the words—what I want to do is scream them, but I can’t risk making a scene at work. “What the hell do you take me for?”
“And he’s still interested?” Rex sounds intrigued, as though that possibility had never occurred to him. Jesus, I am dumb sometimes. I had no idea that’s what he had in mind when he said I needed to get close to Gage.
This is the perfect time to tell Rex I’m calling it quits. But my stupid pride is wounded that he thinks all Gage wants from me is sex, even if deep down I know that’s the truth, and the words are out before I can stop them. “Yeah. He wants to take me on a date this afternoon.”
I screw my eyes shut and cover my face with my hand. Nice one, Amy.
“I’m impressed.” He sounds it, too. “This is going better than I expected.”
That does it. “I turned him down. I’m sorry, but I can’t do it. I don’t sleep with people on command.” Okay, so I’ve twisted the truth a little there, but I have to salvage some pride from this mess.
A strange prickling sensation skitters over my arms, and I prop my chin on my hand and open my eyes.
What the holy fuck?
I don’t even care that Rex is speaking. I cut him off, drop my cell on the table, and watch as Gage Reynolds swaggers toward me, looking as though he owns the place and everything in it.
Did he hear me talking to Rex? No, he’s too far away. My mouth dries and it’s getting harder to breathe. He was hot in his natural habitat, but in Mama Coco’s, which is the least cool place on earth, he looks like a freaking alien sex god.
I’m so screwed.
…
Gage
I’ve never chased after a girl in my life, and up until a couple of hours ago had no intention of hunting Amelia down. If she wanted out, then fuck her.
Except her cute smile and the way she waved her finger at me kept running through my mind until I could hardly think straight. Finally, the question I’d been avoiding all night smacked me in the face. Did she quit because she didn’t think I could respect her boundaries?
Chicks in my world don’t give ultimatums or back off when it’s obvious we both want the same thing. My head’s telling me to forget her, but I can’t, and that’s why I’m at Mama Coco’s Diner, the place she put as a reference, which is full of old people with little kids.
Amelia’s staring at me as if she can’t believe her eyes, and it’s crazy how good she looks in the buttoned-up, ugly-as-fuck uniform she’s wearing. I forget about giving her a hard time, as if that was ever my intention, and instead I grin at the expression on her face, pull out the chair opposite her, and sit down.
She slowly straightens and sits back in her chair. “Well,” she says at last. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
It’s hard, but I resist the urge to stretch out my legs and hook my feet around her ankles. “You walked out on me. Need to know why.”
Guilt flashes across her face. “Kat said she could get someone to cover for me.”
For a second I’m thrown. She feels guilty for letting Kat down, but not me? I lean my forearms on the table and lean into her space. “Are you scared of me?”
She laughs, which isn’t exactly what I expect, but it’s a relief to know that isn’t the reason she bailed.
“Get over yourself. You’re not that scary. I could bring you to your knees no problem if I needed to.”
“I’d like to see you try.” I don’t bother hiding my mocking tone. She’s a tiny thing, and the thought of her being able to bring any guy to his knees is laughable. “Carry a baseball bat in your purse, do you?”
“You’d be surprised what I carry in my purse.”
“You’ll have to show me sometime.” What the hell? Did I really just say that? I’ve no interest in what shit chicks have in their purses, but when Amelia smiles I guess my comment wasn’t so crazy after all.
She inches forward and rests her elbows on the edge of the table. “What’re you doing here, Gage?”
I wish I knew. Not that I’m going to tell her that. “You want to tell me why you bailed on me, baby?”
She doesn’t get prickly when I call her baby, and I’m taking that as a good thing. Christ, what’s wrong with me? It’s kind of funny, in an unbelievable way, how badly I want her to come back to Odin’s.
“I just…” She drops her gaze and frowns at the table. “I think it’s a bad idea, that’s all.”
“Why? Because you wanna sleep with your boss?” I leer at her when she glances up at me, and she pulls a face like she just sucked on a lemon. Since when has talking with a chick ever been this much fun?
“No. Because my former boss can’t keep his hands to himself.”
“Sure I can.” I wait for a couple of seconds so she knows I’m serious. Am I really having this conversation? “I just don’t understand why you want me to.” And right then it hits me—the reason why she’s so determined to hold me off. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? “Are you seeing someone?”
She doesn’t answer right away, and I’m pissed off. Why didn’t she tell me yesterday? Sure, I don’t do the whole dating and commitment thing, but I don’t chase tail that’s not available.
Would it have made any difference with Amelia? I ignore that thought.
“No,” she says at last, as though she was debating whether or not to tell me the truth. Then she sighs. “It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It really is.”
I change tactics. “What if I swear to keep my hands to myself until you’re ready? Will you come back to Odin’s?”
Zach would piss himself if he could hear me. Fuck, I’m almost pissing myself. I never thought I’d all but beg a girl to come work for me.
“Suppose I’m never ready?”
I can’t help it—I shoot her a filthy grin. “Then I’m gonna have blue balls.”
Instead of laughing she looks fascinated. “Seriously? With all the girls that hang around the Bastards? I find that real hard to believe.”
I’m finding it hard to believe, too. Not that I said it to her—hell, guys say anything to get some pussy—but because a part of me means it.
No way can I let her know she’s managed to mess with my head that much. “Hey, I might be an asshole, but I don’t go back on my word. I won’t push you into doing something you’re not ready for.”
What. The. Fuck?
She leans a little closer, almost as though she doesn’t realize what she’s doing. “It sounds like you want to date me. Exclusively.”
I give a choked laugh, mainly to hide my shock that what I said sounds exactly the way she describes. “Don’t push it.”
“So you don’t want to date me, you just want to screw me?”
“Anything wrong with that?”
She looks as though she’s trying not to laugh. “And being exclusive isn’t in your vocabulary?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Hmm.” She appears to consider it. “I guess not, if it preserves the state of your balls.”
“You’re the craziest chick I’ve ever met. You know that?”
She’s smiling at me, and it kills me that I can’t wrap my hand around the back of her neck and haul her over the table for a kiss. If she takes me up on my offer, my dick’s going to love me. Not.
“And you’re nothing like I thought you’d be.”
“I’m better, right?”
She groans. “Your rep was right about one thing. You’re so full of yourself.”
“Where’d you hear about my rep?” There’s something about her that intrigues me, besides wanting her in my bed. She’s not part of the biker life, but it’s like she belongs, in a weird way I can’t figure out.
“You’d be surprised.” For a second, her smile slips, as though she doesn’t want to think about it. “And I’m not going to stroke your ego by telling you what I’ve heard, either.”
An old guy wearing a stripy apron hovers by the table, and when he realizes I’ve caught him eyeing my colors, he takes a hasty step back. “Amy, honey, could do with some help here when you’re ready.”
Amy? I shoot her a glance, but she doesn’t seem to get my message. She drops her cell into her pocket and stands up. “Sorry, Colin. I’ll be right there.”
Colin gives me another look, and I favor him with a lazy grin that appears to scare the shit out of him. As he turns tail, Amelia sighs.
“You just had to do that, didn’t you?” It’s not a question, and again I’m struck by her attitude. I know plenty of sassy chicks who’ve chanced their luck by being mouthy when we’ve hooked up, but it’s more than daring flirting with Amelia. It’s like she has the right to say what she thinks without fearing the consequences of pissing me off.
And I get the feeling she’s not flirting with me at all, either.
“Yeah, I did.” I almost grab her hand but stop just in time. “And what’s with the Amy?”
“People call me Amy.” She shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “You can, as well, if you want.”
I lean back in the chair and run my gaze over her, the way I do when I check out a new hot chick I want to nail. She folds her arms and stares right back, and I have the crazy urge to laugh again. “Nah. You look like an Amelia to me. What time do you finish here?”
She blinks as though that was the last thing she expected me to say. “In a couple of hours. Why?”
Before I can stop it, the words come out. “We have a date, remember?”