CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

We played two more games. Beau backed out after the first and left the room, presumably going after Lily, playing his choices down the middle—don’t piss off the senior club guys by supporting her, but don’t spoil his chance of getting lucky, either. Another guy took his place. When that game finished, I excused myself to use the restroom. I came out to find Beau waiting.

“All yours,” I said.

His gaze slid over me and he grinned. “Really? Well, I appreciate the invitation, but I’m not sure Ricky would approve.”

He said it as “Rick-ee,” drawing out the diminutive with a sneering falsetto. I hadn’t seen him drink much in the clubhouse, but the stink of booze rolled off his breath. I resisted the urge to retort, and brushed past with a simple, “Excuse me.” His arm shot out to stop me.

“You handled yourself well in there,” he said. “It sure got me all hot and bothered. Is that what Ricky likes? A girl who can stand up for herself?” He smirked. “No, I bet Ricky likes to be the one on the floor with your heel digging into his chest. Am I close?”

“Not by half. Now move—”

“Oh, come on, tell the truth. We all know which one of you wears the pants.”

“Ricky prefers me in skirts. Easier access.”

He choked on a chortling laugh. “No, sweetie. If anyone’s wearing skirts, it’s the pretty boy. Everyone knows he’s soft. They just don’t know how soft. But now that he’s got himself a ball-busting, smart-mouthed girlfriend, his secret’s out.”

“Move. Now.”

“Did I mention the tough-girl act turns me on?”

“Yep, and if that’s a threat, may I remind you that you’re in the middle of a clubhouse full of bikers? The only one you need to worry about, though, is Ricky. Lay a finger on me and he’ll want you all to himself. And if you think that’s nothing to worry about, you’re even more clueless than you seem, which is damned clueless, having spent the last couple of minutes yapping without noticing the switchblade at your gut.”

He looked down and saw the knife.

“A present from Ricky,” I said. “Yes, he does like a girl who knows how to take care of herself, because he can’t be there all the time. Very sweet, don’t you think?”

“No, very stupid. You know the problem with giving a girl a knife? The second someone takes it—”

He grabbed for it. I slashed, and he fell back with a yelp.

“Did I mention he showed me how to use it?” I said.

He dove at me, snarling, “You bitch.”

Before I could react, someone grabbed him from behind and yanked him off his feet. It was Wallace. He put Beau up against the wall. He didn’t say a word, just held him there. Then he dropped him, stepped back, and waited. Beau struggled to his feet. He stood with his fists at his sides, one hand dripping blood. When Wallace made no move, Beau hightailed it down the hall.

“You need to tell Ricky,” Wallace said.

“I know.”

He eyed me. “I mean it, Liv. If that boy went after you, Ricky needs to handle it, even if that’s not how you normally do things.”

“It isn’t. I am going to tell him, though. Not because the guy cornered me, but because he insulted Ricky, who needs to know a potential prospect doesn’t respect him.”

Wallace grunted. He seemed marginally impressed.

“Beau wasn’t really hitting on me,” I continued. “He was taking a shot at Ricky. That seems a stupid thing for a potential prospect to do.”

Wallace shrugged. “With some of these guys, testosterone runs higher than IQ. I’m just glad I saw that side before we started seriously considering him. Guys like that are not welcome.”

“Guys like what?” Ricky rounded the corner and stopped beside me. He slid an arm around my waist. “Something up?”

“Beau,” Wallace said, and gave me a look to say he’d handle this.

“Beau?” Ricky said. “Oh, right. New guy.”

“He was drunk,” Wallace said. “Too damned drunk for ten o’clock on a weeknight. First, there was a dustup with Lily. Olivia handled it. Lily’s earned herself a month’s suspension. Beau seems to have hooked up with her, and I don’t know if that’s what made him go after Olivia or—”

“He went after—?” Ricky saw blood on the floor. “Did he hurt—?”

“No,” Wallace said. “That’s his. Apparently, you gave Liv a knife.”

Ricky’s arm tightened around me as he leaned in to whisper, “You okay?”

“I am.”

Wallace said I’d handled it fine, that it was just one asshole being an asshole and Beau had better never step on the property again, but Ricky strode to the door and opened it with a hard kick. We followed him outside, and he surveyed the lot.

“He’s got a Super Glide, right?”

“Yeah.” Wallace stepped out behind us. “He’s long gone.”

Ricky’s gaze fixed on the road. My hand tightened on his. He murmured, “I want to go after him.”

I agree. I want you to show him why he should respect you. And yet . . .

“And yet . . .” Ricky murmured, the echo sending another shiver through me. “I need to start reining in my temper. It doesn’t lead me anywhere good.” He raised his voice for Wallace. “We know where he lives, right?”

“Where he’s staying, yeah.”

“Then I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow. Better to do it once I’ve cooled off and he thinks he’s gotten away with it. If he shows up at the clubhouse before then, I want a call. Good?”

Technically, being sergeant-at-arms, Wallace was in charge of enforcement and discipline, so it made sense for Ricky to run this past him. But more than that, he was wisely asking advice of someone older and more experienced. Wallace nodded, and even if he only grunted, “Yeah, that works,” there was a glow in his eyes, his star pupil proving, yet again, why he deserved the extra attention.

Ricky rolled his shoulders, his gaze swinging to the forest behind the clubhouse as he leaned toward me. “If I walk it off, will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

—

This wasn’t an amble through the woods. Ricky was pissed, temper rolling off him. Finally, he stopped and peered into the forest, his shoulders tight, as if expecting attack from all sides. Then he took my other hand and tugged me in front of him. He met my gaze, his dark eyes like a tumultuous night sky, clouds roiling through, no hint of that moonlit glimmer I’d seen before. He blinked and the clouds dissipated, but only for a second before gathering again.

“I’m okay,” he said.

“I know.”

“It should be easier. Shaking this. I did the right thing, letting him go for now.”

“You did.”

“So why—” He bit off the word and made a noise in his throat.

I stepped closer. I didn’t try to kiss him, even to touch him, but as soon as I made a move his way, those clouds shifted and twisted, lust flaring behind them. He blinked hard and shuddered.

“You don’t want to do that,” he said.

I moved closer. “Why not?”

“Because I’m still . . .” He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake it off again, but it held fast, and when he met my gaze, his breathing came harder. “You don’t want me like this.”

“You need to shake it. I’m offering to help.”

He tugged me to him, just close enough for me to feel his chest brushing mine as he took deep breaths.

“I want to shake it,” he said. “Not vent it on you.”

“How about a compromise?” I disengaged my hands from his and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. “We’ll get a little more fresh air first . . .” I backed up and undid the next button, flicking open my front bra clasp with it. “A little more exercise . . .” I opened two more buttons. “Work off the edge . . .” The last button. “But just the edge. I’ll take the rest.” I let my shirt hang open. “Or I will . . . if you can catch me.” At last I saw that glitter in his eyes, moonlight behind the clouds. “Is that a yes?”

He lunged. I wheeled, laughing, and raced off into the forest.