Bohdi: King's Descendants MC #6
Page 20
She scoffs, her old face scrunching up. “My name is not Karen!”
“It should be,” I throw back with a scoff.
Horrified, she picks up her pace and disappears.
Thanks for the help, lady.
A shadow looms over me, blocking the sunlight, and I turn my head to see a very large, very good looking man staring down at me. He tips his head to the side and takes me in.
“You abuse everybody while layin’ on the ground, on a sidewalk?” he asks.
I notice he’s wearing leather, jeans and no doubt, boots. His hair is dark, long, and falling over his shoulders. He has a beard that would make any woman wet and eyes as blue as the sky itself. He’s gorgeous, but what the hell is he wearing?
Who wears leather?
Nobody, that’s who.
“Are you going to a fancy dress party?” I ask, still laying on the ground, still throwing sass around like I’m actually in the position to.
The sidewalk is starting to burn my back.
You won’t see me complaining, though.
No sir, not today.
He tilts his head again, to the other side this time. As if he’s studying some sort of wild animal he’s never seen before. “I’m thinkin’ you need to get up because the fall has clearly given you some sort of brain injury.”
He extends a hand.
I huff.
“No thank you,” I say, rolling with zero grace to my side. I grunt and squirm, but finally, I get to my feet.
Not without looking like a complete fool.
Now I’m standing, I can see him better. His jacket has some sort of patches on it, but one that stands out to me is ‘PRESIDENT’ in big, bold letters.
President of what?
A BDSM club?
They’re the only people I know who wear leather in this heat.
“You never seen a biker before, lady?” he asks and my head snaps up.
“You’re a biker?”
He doesn’t look impressed.
“I mean, my mind was going somewhere completely different, but okay. I’ll take it.”
“You always this smart-mouthed or is it just my lucky day?”
I cross my arms. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“If I like you or not, so far, I don’t. I mean, who wears leather in the blistering sun?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a fuckin’ biker.”
I give him a sarcastic eye roll and mock him, repeating the same sentence. “Because I’m a fuckin’ biker.”
He growls. “You’re somethin’ else, what’s your name?”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Fuck me. You’re insane.”
I grin. “Says the man in the leather.”
He leans in closer, so close I can see the speckles of green in his eyes. “You’ll get yourself into trouble with that mouth one day.”
God.
He smells incredible.
Yum.
“Can you move back a little,” I say. “Your breath is quite offensive.”
His eyes harden.
He doesn’t move.
I go on. “Can I get you something for it? Mouthwash? A mint? Dental floss? A better personality?”
He steps back with a scowl that makes him look even more handsome. God, he’s good looking. Ridiculously so.
“This your place?”
He nods to the building we’re standing next to. It is indeed my place. A place I’ve worked hard for. A restaurant that holds the town's best open mic nights. I have singers from far and wide come to play for me, and I’m well known in the area. I’ve given my all to this and it’s my pride and joy.
“Yes, actually, it is my place.”
He grins.
“Well then, I’ll be seein’ you around.”
I shake my head, confused.
He turns and points to the large, empty garage-style space beside mine. We share the same parking lot, but it has been empty for as long as I’ve owned my restaurant. I’m happy to have it that way, I don’t want anything getting in the way of my business, and someone owning that place would certainly disrupt what I’ve got going on.
I mean, it would have to be some sort of garage and that means noise, and people I don’t want around.
Still grinning, he gives me a look that makes me a little nervous. “I guess you better get used to me and my breath then, lady, because I’m your new neighbor.”
Wait.
What?
Oh god.
No.
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