CHAPTER TWELVE

 

AJ stared down at the pile of clothes on her bed, then glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was 3:30 p.m. and she wasn’t anywhere near ready. Derek was supposed to pick her up in half an hour.

She never imagined picking an outfit would be so hard.

Her cell phone rang, and she picked it up off the nightstand, glancing at the readout. “Hello.”

“You ready?”

“Not quite.”

“I’m sorry. Something’s come up, and I won’t be the one picking you up. I’m sending Cat over to get you. Okay?”

“Sure. But if you’re busy, we can do this another time.”

“No way, lady. You lost the bet. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

“Fine. When is she coming?”

“She should be there any time now. See you soon.”

He disconnected, and she stared down at her phone. Damn.

Ten minutes later, there was a tap at her door. She opened it to find Cat standing there with a bag in her hand. She pulled the sunglasses from her face, her eyes sweeping down the length of AJ. “You’re not wearing that, are you?”

AJ glanced down at her outfit—tennis shoes, jeans, and a blouse. “What’s wrong with it?”

Cat pushed her way in, tossing the bag and her purse down on the couch, then turned, her hands landing on her hips. “Show me what you’ve got. I imagine it’s spread out all over your bed, am I right?”

AJ bit her lip. “Maybe.”

“Lead the way.”

AJ reluctantly led her into her bedroom.

Cat glanced around, taking in her modern furniture. “Nice digs.”

“Thanks.”

Cat wandered into the walk-in closet. “Do you have any boots?”

“Boots? Like, biker boots? Uh, no.”

“Surely you have some type of boots.”

“I have that pair of Roberto Cavalli’s on the top shelf, but they’re not for a barbeque. That’s ridiculous.”

Cat took them down and inspected them. They were exquisite black leather with a stiletto heel and came up just over the knee, a silver chain around the ankle. “They’re perfect.”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you know how much those cost?”

“And how often have you actually worn them?” Cat challenged.

“I’ve worn them,” AJ defended meekly.

Cat examined the sole. Not a mark on them. She gave her a look.

“Okay. So I haven’t had the perfect occasion yet.”

“This is the perfect occasion. You’ll have Undertaker struck mute when he sees you in these. Please! I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

AJ rolled her eyes, but had to admit, after everything from the past that had gone on between them, she would like to get the upper hand. Maybe these boots were just the ticket to do it. At least put him off balance a bit, give him a taste of what that’s like after all the times he’d made her feel that way. “What would I wear with them?”

“Tight jeans tucked into them. You have a pair of those don’t you? Please, God, tell me you have jeans tighter than those.” She nodded to AJ’s faded denim.

“Fine. And what top?” AJ gestured to the clothes on the bed.

“I’ve got just the shirt.” Cat left the room and came back a moment later with the bag. She pulled out a shirt and tossed it to her. “Undertaker sent this for you to wear.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” She held it out at arm’s length. It was a black tank top that had Support Your Local Evil Dead MC emblazoned across the chest in white.

She shoved AJ toward the closet. “Don’t come out until you’ve got it all on.”

Five minutes later, AJ was cursing Cat under her breath as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror. “There is no way I’m going dressed like this.”

“You look smokin’ hot, girl! You have to wear that! You’ll blow Undertaker away.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hell, yes.”

AJ turned to her. “Why are you so interested in seeing Undertaker knocked off his feet?”

Cat grinned. “I’m not. But Blood is, and he made me promise to make sure you wore something sexy as hell.” She shrugged. “He likes to torment his President. What can I say?”

AJ rolled her eyes. “You’re all crazy. Every last one of you.”

Cat stared at her, her expression getting serious. “He likes you, you know. Really likes you.”

AJ glanced down, rubbing her hands on her denim covered thighs. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Cat frowned. “Why?”

AJ gave her a look. “He’s in an MC. He’s the President for God sake. What’s not to understand about that? I have no idea what he’s involved in, but I can imagine whatever it is, it’s illegal.”

“I felt the same way in the beginning.”

“And what changed?”

“I got to know them. Blood saved my life.”

“I heard it was the other way around.”

“Look at all he and Undertaker and the whole club have done for my sister. If it wasn’t for them, I’d have lost her.”

AJ nodded. “Still, I can’t let myself go into this blindly. Undertaker went to prison. He’s a convicted felon. He’s not a boy scout. None of them are. Not even your Blood.”

“Blood would take a bullet for me.” She laughed. “He’d bitch about my driving skills as I drove him to the hospital, but he’d take the bullet.”

AJ laughed along with her.

“But seriously, I trust Blood completely. I love him. I know he’d move heaven and earth to make sure I was never harmed again. I believe that with all my heart.”

AJ touched her face. “I know you do. And I’m happy you found a man you can believe in. But my story is different. The life I lead…”

“Hey, it’s just a barbeque, just some fun. No one is making this more than it is. Just let yourself enjoy his company today. No strings.”

“You sound like he coached you to say that.”

Cat grinned. “Maybe he did.”

AJ’s brows shot up. “Are you kidding me?”

“Told you he likes you. He told me you’d try to back out and to make sure you didn’t.”

“It’s my decision if I go or not.”

“Of course it is, but don’t let some silly societal judgments stop you from having a fun day. Besides, I’d like you there, and I think it would be good for you to see Holly in that environment.”

AJ got serious. “I’m worried about her being there. She needs to get back to her life, to school…”

“I agree. And I think she’s making progress. Your sessions have helped. And whatever you said to Undertaker, he’s been really turning things around with her, getting her out jogging, eating better, making sure she has more structure.”

“That’s wonderful.” AJ had no idea.

“You really need to see for yourself.”

AJ rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“And the outfit… do that for you.”

 

***

 

The girls drove into the compound. Blood met them at the car and kissed Cat. His eyes scanned down AJ as she climbed out, then they flicked to Cat. “Perfect. He’s gonna flip.”

The aroma of cooking meat filled the air as they moved toward the building.

She felt the men’s eyes all on her, but none dared say a word, and she felt that all was due to Cat’s man leading them in. She saw the way he glared at some of the guys, warning them with just a look to keep their mouths shut and their comments to themselves.

She did hear a wolf whistle behind them.

Blood held the door for them, then hissed to the offender, “Knock it off!”

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside. The only things clearly visible were the neon liquor and beer signs behind the bar and the light over the pool tables across the room.

Blood led them to the bar, signaling the man behind it. “Gimme three cold ones, Prospect.”

Three bottles of beer were pulled from ice and slid on the bar top. Blood passed her one.

She lifted the cold drink to her lips as her eyes darted around the room, taking it all in with an attention she hadn’t given it on her last visit. “Where’s Undertaker?”

“Up in his office. Had some shit to take care of. He’ll be down soon.”

“I thought this was a barbeque.”

Blood grinned down at her and teased, “You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”

“I just meant…”

“It’s hot as hell outside. Just thought you’d rather wait for him in the cool A/C, but if you want to go outside in the humidity…”

“No, this is fine,” she quickly corrected.

The place wasn’t too crowded, and AJ was glad for that. A few groups were playing pool, more guys were at the bar joking and laughing, and a few women stood talking near an ancient jukebox. As her eyes trailed back around the room, she noticed for the first time the stripper pole in the corner. Dear God, an actual stripper pole! And she’d walked right past it the last time she was here—never even glanced at it.

She turned to Cat, hoping her expression hadn’t revealed her shock. “So, um, where’s Holly?”

Cat grinned, undoubtedly catching where her eyes had gone. “Probably in her room. I’ll go get her.”

AJ grabbed her arm as she slid off her barstool. “If she’d rather stay up there, that’s fine.”

“No. It’s good for her to get out of there. She still spends too much time locked up.”

“Locked up?”

“Figure of speech. She likes to be by herself a lot.”

“Has she always been like that?”

“Not to this extent.” Cat glanced toward the stairs, her eyes getting a faraway look. “Growing up, we lived in a run-down trailer park in Beaumont, Texas. Life was hard. She used to lose herself in drawing and tune everything out. The other day, I bought her a sketchpad and some colored pencils, but she hasn’t touched them. It’s like she’s lost her...” She paused, shrugging. “Like she’s set everything aside from her old personality. She’s changing. I don’t know.” Looking back at AJ, she confessed, “I feel so guilty. I brought her to New Orleans. I thought if I could only get us out of that trailer park, we’d have a better life. Maybe all I did was ruin hers.”

AJ put her hand on her forearm. “She’s lucky to have you for a sister.”

Cat shook her head, rejecting her compliment. “I don’t know how to help her.”

“Just keep being her sister and being there for her. That’s all you can do. When she’s ready, she’ll start doing the things she used to do, then she’ll start feeling like her old self again. It just takes time and patience.”

Cat gave her a slight nod, but it was as if she didn’t truly accept her prediction. “I hope so. I’ll go see if I can get her to come down.”

AJ nodded, and Cat moved off through the crowd, leaving AJ alone with Blood. She took a moment to study him out of the corner of her eye. He was an attractive man, tall, broad shouldered, with a masculine face that would turn any girl’s head. She could definitely see why Cat had fallen for him.

Realizing she may not have this opportunity again, she decided to ask him a few questions. “So how are things between you and Cat?”

He lowered the beer he’d been drinking. “Fine. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

He nodded, folded his arms, and leaned his elbows on the bar, bringing his head level with hers. “Well, if we’re gonna play twenty questions, babe, where did you and my Prez meet?”

“I’m not your babe, and it was years ago.” She took a sip of her drink. The man could un-nerve a saint.

“That’s not what I asked.”

She turned to face him, not about to let him bully and intimidate her. “If you must know, I worked at the place he was sent to for counseling as required for his parole.”

Blood nodded slowly, and she could see his mind working a mile a minute. “Fifteen years ago. You were what… right out of school?”

“Something like that.”

“The inexperienced fresh-faced college grad and the seasoned biker. Now that’s a match made in hell.”

“You’re a direct man, aren’t you?”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

“And how do you see it?”

“I bet he ate you for breakfast; the gator and the baby duckling. You didn’t stand a chance.”

How could he possibly know that? Had Undertaker confessed how he’d conned her into signing off on his paperwork before all his requirements were fulfilled? “Look, I don’t know what it is you think you know, but—”

Cat walked up with Holly, pulling her in tow by the hand. “Say hello to Dr. Carter, Holly.”

The girl seemed confused. “What are you doing here, Dr. Carter?”

“Undertaker invited her,” Blood answered.

AJ gave him a look that told him she didn’t need him to answer for her. When she turned back to Holly, she put on a smile. “I also wanted to see you, Holly. Are you doing well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Have you been eating properly and using the techniques we talked about?”

She nodded.

“And sleeping? Has the insomnia improved at all?”

“Yes. I’ve been jogging every morning. Undertaker takes me. I think that helps.”

As if the mention of his name drew him, the crowd parted, and he appeared. Holly turned to see him first and tried to hug him, but he only had eyes for AJ. His gaze traveled over her, pausing at her breasts, where the name of his club was emblazoned, then moving down over the tight jeans and sexy boots. He swallowed before a smile split his face, revealing a flash of white teeth.

“You were supposed to tell me when she arrived.” His words for Blood were harshly spoken while his eyes stayed riveted on AJ.

“My bad,” was all Blood said as he grinned at his President’s obvious reaction.

“Have you been waiting long?” he asked AJ.

She felt as dumbstruck as he seemed. Every time she saw the man, she was reminded all over again of how handsome he was, how he wore his power and authority on his shoulders with a lightness of ease. It bespoke of how well suited he was for the position of President.

He was a leader—his power and way about him, his very demeanor all spoke of his ability to handle any crisis, face any foe, and guide this ship called an MC to port in any storm.

Even in these surroundings, with these men he called brothers around him, just the sight of him had her stomach fluttering, but it was more than that. An at-ease feeling came over her; she felt calmer and safer just being in his presence. And—perhaps for the first time—she truly understood why Holly had latched onto him.

Sandman stomped into the clubhouse. He glared at the guys at the bar. “Well, well, if it isn’t the seven dwarves!”

The laughter at the bar died down at his angry comment, heads twisting.

“What’s the bug up your ass?” Bam-Bam asked, planting a hand on the bar and turning to look at him.

“You want to know what the bug up my ass is? Which one of you assholes signed me up for BikerLove.com?” He turned to Blood who was already shaking with silent laughter and pointed a finger at him. “And you stay out of this!”

In unison, the boys all pulled their phones out and began searching for his profile.

Easy began laughing. “Listen to this. Personal interests: lifting, eating, sleeping, women, sleeping with women, ice cream.”

“Sounds about right,” Mud confirmed.

“Yeah? Well there’s more to me than sleeping, fucking, and eating!” Sandman insisted.

“Yeah, like a whole lot of baggage stuffed full of crazy,” Blood chuckled.

“Way to stay out of it.” Sandman glared over at him.

“Hey, you set ‘em up, I knock ‘em down.”

Undertaker took AJ by the hand, and said sarcastically over his shoulder at the men, “Come on, girl; let’s leave these boys to their fascinating conversation.”

She turned to see Blood put his arm around Holly and guide her to the bar between him and Cat. And she didn’t miss the heartbroken expression on Holly’s face as she looked over her shoulder to watch Undertaker walk out with AJ.

Blood must have caught it, too, because he stepped in her line of sight, blocking her view and distracted her with a joke about her sister.

“Hey, Hol, what do you call it when your sister cooks? A CAT-astrophe!”

Cat elbowed him in the ribs as the boys all laughed.

“Babe, she’ll be fine,” Undertaker whispered in her ear as he led her outside to a picnic table, backed her against it, lifted her up, and planted her ass on the tabletop. Then his eyes dropped to her chest, his mind obviously on other things. “You wore it. I wasn’t sure you would.”

She didn’t reply, unsure if she wanted to confirm that she’d wanted to please him. Not even sure she was ready to admit it to herself yet.

“It looks good on you. Damn good.” His eyes glittered with unmasked desire when they flicked up to meet hers. The corner of his mouth turned up. “Like the boots, too.”

She grinned at that, extending her leg and twisting her ankle to the side, admiring the silver chain that hung there. “They are pretty awesome, aren’t they? I have to admit I have a bit of a shoe problem.”

“Shoe problem?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

“I have too many pairs of shoes. Shoes and handbags, they’re my Achilles’ heel.”

He lifted his chin. “Ah, you’re one of those.”

She grinned, taking a sip of her beer. “It’s an addiction; one I can’t seem to break.”

He chuckled. “So, you’re sayin’ all I gotta do is keep you in expensive Italian leather shit, and you’re a happy girl?”

“Exactly. Expensive Italian leather shit is the bomb.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Of course if you’ve got a hundred pairs of boots like these and sexy heels like the ones you were wearin’ when you first strutted into my clubhouse, I’m all in.”

Her mouth fell open. “I do not strut.”

“Baby, you’re the queen of strut. You could give lessons.”

“Is there a compliment in there somewhere?”

“Hell, yeah, there is. Nothin’ sexier than watchin’ a woman who’s got her strut down.”

She giggled. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Incorrigible, irredeemable, unrepentant… I’m all those things, no doubt about it. But I’m also honest, loyal, and trustworthy.”

“Umm hmm. You’ll have to prove that to me.”

He nodded, suddenly serious. “I know that. Doesn’t deter me in the least.”

She suddenly wondered what exactly they were talking about. She peered over to the source of the delicious aromas drifting her way—a big stone grill manned by several men with vests that read Prospect on the back.

“What’s on the menu?” She changed the subject.

“Anything you want. Ribs, chicken, steak, burgers…” When he saw her expression of dismay, he explained, “We got a lot of mouths to feed around here.”

She chuckled. “I guess you do.” Then sobering, she said, “You were supposed to be working on having one less mouth to feed around here. How’s that going? Not too well if I’m to judge by the look on her face when you walked out here with me.”

Undertaker’s expression sobered. “I’m workin’ on that. We’ve talked about it. She knows it’s a pipe dream. Cat’s checked into getting her back for next term. She doesn’t think she’s ready, but I’ll get her there. And I’ll make sure she’s looked out for.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“Leave that part to me. You just worry about your end.”

“Hmm. You’re being vague. Not sure I like that.”

“I’ll have to find something you do like, then.” His hand lifted and cupped her chin, pulling her toward him as his mouth came down on hers.

The light brush of his beard on her skin felt nice, just like it had the first time he’d kissed her. She’d never kissed a man with a beard before him. She was surprised by how much she liked it. Her hand stole up to cup his jaw, stroking the beard and finding it surprisingly soft.

At her gentle touch, he pulled back an inch to gaze into her eyes, and God, she could drown in those blue pools. The rest of the compound faded away as if they were the only ones in existence. It only lasted a moment.

Someone called his name, breaking the spell.

She pulled back, turning to look.

“Yeah?” he snapped.

There was an edge to his voice when he answered, and she held back a pleased smile, knowing he was as frustrated by the interruption as she was.

The man who’d shouted to him held his hand up to his ear, thumb and pinky extended, signing he had a phone call inside.

“Sorry, babe. I gotta take this.”

She nodded.

He kissed her on the nose. “When I come back, I’ll make us both a plate and we’ll eat with no interruptions. I promise.” He jerked his chin to a man by the door with a prospect patch on his back. “You want anything, just ask Boone, okay?”

She nodded and watched him walk away. She sat sipping her beer, enjoying just being outdoors. Lately she’d spent so much time in her office or working on the center. It was nice to just sit and let the sun warm her skin.

 

***

 

The man named Mooch—who Undertaker had introduced as his VP the day they came to paint—parked his ass on the table next to her and planted his boots on the bench. He was older with a thin frame, a long gray braid, a faded bandana around his head, and kind eyes. He dipped his head and lit a joint, then held it out to her.

She shook her head. “No thanks.”

“You sure? It’s some good shit, sweetheart.”

“Positive.”

He shrugged and took a toke, eyeing the crowd. “You havin’ a good time?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He lifted a hand, waving over Boone. When the man approached, he held his empty bottle up, and then glanced at AJ. “You need one?”

“Sure.”

“Make that two.”

The prospect nodded and left to get their drinks.

Without any prodding, Mooch began talking. He lifted his chin across the compound to where Undertaker stood. “There’s incredible courage and strength in him, there’s incredible ambition in him, but there’s also just determination. Back in the day, Undertaker was one bad mutha. But he got to that place back in ’94 when everything went to hell, and he went to prison.”

She took a sip of beer. “A man who pushes his boundaries ultimately finds them.”

Mooch took another toke, nodding. “He got out and became our President and did a great job of it, too. But he did it without lookin’ back at what he had experienced.”

“Prison must have left terrible scars on him emotionally,” AJ whispered, her eyes on Undertaker.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve known him a lot of years, all the way back to the beginning of all this.” He motioned with the joint to the compound and clubhouse.

When his somber eyes met hers, she nodded.

“Seen him hurting, seen him broken, seen him apathetic, seen him determined…” He paused, pointing the index finger of the hand holding the half-empty long neck bottle toward Undertaker. “But it’s been years since I’ve seen him happy like this.”

AJ studied Undertaker. He stood laughing at something one of his brothers had said. He did look happy, and it warmed something deep inside her to see it, but she wasn’t ready to believe it had anything to do with her. She turned, feeling Mooch’s eyes on her. “And?”

The prospect brought their beers and retreated. Mooch passed one of the ice-cold bottles to her, replying, “He had a girl once. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“That girl was it for him. Never seen two people more right for each other. Unfortunately he lost her a long time ago, and in all these years, he’s never replaced her, never made any other woman his ol’ lady. I’m not saying there haven’t been women—there have—but no one who ever meant anything.” He looked into her eyes. “Not until you.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, and could only stare back at him, afraid of what he might say next and, at the same time, praying he’d continue.

He lifted his bottle toward the clubhouse. “Since the day you walked through that door, he’s been happy again, excited about shit. You know what I’m sayin’? Lookin’ forward to life in a way he hasn’t in years.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because you bein’ responsible for that happiness means you could also take it all away. And I ain’t lookin’ forward to the day that happens. So, I guess what I’m sayin’ is—”

Her eyes lifted over his shoulder, and he turned his head to see what had drawn her attention.

Undertaker stood there. He reached out and took the joint from Mooch’s hand, taking a toke. “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothin’. Just shootin’ the shit.”

Undertaker eyed him through the smoke he exhaled. He wasn’t buying that answer, but he said nothing. Instead, he just lifted his chin.

Mooch stood, turned and clinked his bottle to AJ’s in salute, then ambled off.

Undertaker took his spot on the table. “What’d he say to you?”

As he stared into her eyes, she knew the truth was the only way to go. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew she didn’t want any lies between them. “He was telling me you looked happy for the first time in years, and I was responsible for that. He also said you hadn’t had an ol’ lady since…” Her words trailed off as he looked away, his eyes scanning the compound. He took another slow toke off the joint. “You asked,” she said quietly.

He nodded.

“Is it true?”

He turned to her then, his eyes searching hers. “That I haven’t had an ol’ lady?”

“That you’re happy.”

A slow smile crept across his face. “Yeah, I guess I am. And, yes, you’re the reason.”

She bumped shoulders with him. “Was that so hard to admit?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, it kind of was.” He tugged her to her feet. “Come on, babe. Let’s go get a plate of food before the boys eat it all.”

 

***

 

An hour later, stomach full and content, AJ eyed the fading daylight. “I should be going soon.”

“Stay.”

She met his gaze. Did he mean overnight? The thought made her suddenly nervous, and she rubbed her palm on her thigh. “I can’t. I really should be going, and you did say when I was ready to leave you’d take me.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I? Why the hell did I say a stupid thing like that?” he teased.

She smiled. “Because if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Oh, right, that.” He dropped what was left of a cigarette and ground it under his boot. Then he stood and pulled her to her feet, turning her to face him. His hands landed on her waist, and he brought her close. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad I came, too.”

He turned and led her to his bike. They passed a group of the guys who were trying to set off some fireworks. Undertaker paused and frowned at the sight of the prospect down on all fours, trying to light an M-80. He lifted his brows to Easy. “He know what the fuck he’s doin’?”

“Nope.”

Sandman grinned and added, “We’re gonna mark his tombstone. Here Lies Boone—we think—because we couldn’t find all of him.”

 

***

 

Undertaker stopped at a gas station on the corner just before AJ’s street, but he didn’t pull to a pump. Instead, he stopped off to the side, his booted feet on the ground, the engine still idling.

AJ frowned and peered over his shoulder as he studied the highway. Sensing something was wrong, she asked, “What is it?”

“See that blue Buick stuck at the light?”

She looked back and spotted the older car, the silhouette of a man driving. “Yes.”

“It’s been a couple spots behind us since not long after we left the clubhouse.”

“You think we’re being followed?”

“Not sure.” He twisted to study her. “You know anybody who drives a blue Buick?”

“No.”

“Ever been followed by any of the husbands or boyfriends of the clients you’ve helped?”

“No.” She glanced back at the car, suddenly wondering if she’d been followed and never known it. “You think it’s me he’s following? How would anyone know I was at the clubhouse?”

He shook his head. “Probably has nothing to do with you.”

“But you think that car is following us?”

“Might be just a coincidence.”

The light changed, and they watched the car drive past. The driver stared right at them, not trying to be inconspicuous at all.

“Son of a bitch,” Undertaker spat, his voice almost surprised.

“What? Do you know him?”

At first he didn’t reply, just followed the car with his eyes as it drove away.

“Derek, who was that?”

“Nobody. Just a ghost from my past.”

“Seems to be a lot of those popping up for you lately, huh?”

He looked over his shoulder and huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Some good and some bad.”

Her eyes returned to the street. “Should I be concerned about that one?”

“Nah, nothing for you to worry about. Sorry if I scared you.” He twisted the throttle and roared back out onto the street.

When they parked in her drive, she climbed off, removing the helmet he’d bought her and kept in his saddlebag. He dismounted and shoved it inside, hanging his own on the handlebar.

He pulled her close and grinned. “You gonna invite me in?”

She surveyed the street, still nervous about the car following them. “You’re sure that car is nothing to worry about?”

“Hey, look at me.” When her eyes came back to his, he cupped her cheeks with both hands. “I promise. Just a guy I knew a long time ago. He was probably following to see if I was who he thought I was, just like I did a double-take when I recognized him.” He searched her eyes. “Okay? Now give me that pretty smile.”

When she did, he dipped his head and kissed her, his lips warm on hers. He tilted his head, his tongue sweeping inside, and her hands lifted almost of their own accord, her palms gliding up his leather vest, feeling the worn patches beneath her fingers.

One of his hands dropped, slipping over her hip to clutch at her ass, his fingers curling into her cheek and drawing her flush up against him.

When he finally broke the kiss, his gaze dropped to her breasts. “That tank top looks damn good on you, baby. Love seeing the name of my club splayed across your tits like that.”

She couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t be crude.”

“You don’t like the way I talk?”

“I like the way you kiss,” she said breathlessly as his hand slid up from her ass, over her hip and the curve of her waist to cup her breast. When he squeezed, she gasped in a breath.

“And I like the way you feel.” His other arm locked around her waist and held her tight to him as his mouth came down on hers again. His big, warm palm continued to massage her breast until she was moaning into his mouth.

When a neighbor walking his dog came down the sidewalk, she pressed her palms against his chest, breaking the kiss and pushing out of his arms. He let her go, but she saw the tick in his jaw that indicated his irritation at being interrupted.

“I should go in.”

He nodded and stepped back. She liked that he didn’t push it, or try to sweet-talk his way inside.

“What are you doing Monday night?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because I want to see you again.”

She smiled at the determination in his eyes, but couldn’t help asking, “Is that a good idea?”

“Probably not, but I don’t care.” He pulled her against him again, reminding her how good it felt, how good they were together, and how right it felt to be there.

“Okay,” she found herself whispering as she stared up into his gorgeous blue eyes—eyes that could, she realized suddenly, talk her into anything.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

She nodded, and his head dipped, his mouth capturing hers for one hell of a goodnight kiss. Then he let her go, watching until she got to her door and inside. She liked that. She liked everything about the way his eyes followed her until she was safely on the other side.

When she closed the door, she leaned back against it and sighed, closing her eyes. She was falling fast for him, and she couldn’t help but see the danger in that. He was a biker, an ex-con, and the president of an outlaw motorcycle club. Everything about that should scare the hell out of her. And yet, all she could think about was his blue eyes and the way he kissed, the way he touched her, the way he let her go when she’d pushed away, not forcing her to do anything she wasn’t ready for.

God, she was in trouble.

 

***

 

When Undertaker got back to the clubhouse, the party was getting wild, the music blaring. He walked inside, spotted Blood and Mooch at the bar, and jerked his chin, indicating for them to follow him as he made his way through the crowd and up to his office. He went to the bottle of Jack Daniels he kept on the credenza and poured two fingers into a glass. Then he moved to the chair behind his desk, the leather creaking as he sunk into it, leaning his suddenly tired body back.

Blood and Mooch came in. Mooch moved to the same bottle and poured himself a drink. He turned, lifting the bottle toward Blood, but the man shook his head, instead parking his ass in one of the two chairs across the desk from Undertaker.

Mooch joined him in the other, sinking into it.

Undertaker leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, his eyes staring at the surface.

“What’s up, Prez?” Blood asked.

Undertaker’s serious gaze met his, and then slid to Mooch. “Blue Buick was following me; picked him up almost immediately after we left the clubhouse.”

Blood’s body stiffened at the news. “You know who it was?”

“Yeah. Guy I did time with in Angola.”

That had Mooch’s brows lifting. “No shit?”

Blood growled, “Why the fuck’s he following you?”

“No clue.”

“And all the way from the clubhouse?”

Undertaker nodded. “Up the security.”

“You got it,” Blood replied.

Undertaker’s eyes again swung to Mooch. “His name’s Ronald LaMonte. Came in the year before I was released. He was doin’ five years for assault.”

“So he would’ve been out, what, five or six years ago?”

Undertaker shook his head. “Injured a guard in a bungled escape attempt. Fucked him up bad. They added ten years to his sentence. With no parole, he’d have been getting out about now. Get Bug on it. Find out when he got out and get an address on him.”

Mooch nodded. “He got a reason to come after you?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t his favorite person.”

Mooch huffed out a laugh. Blood didn’t look as amused.

“Anything else?” Mooch asked.

Undertaker shook his head. “Not yet. We get an address, we may pay a visit.”

“Damn straight we will,” Blood agreed with a growl.