“Aw shit.” Clint reached out and took my hand. “There’s some guys out there that give bikers a bad name, but I wouldn’t be a part of that. I guarantee you’ll be perfectly safe. Besides, the old ladies will be there—you might make a friend or two.”
“Old ladies?” I frowned. “We could bring some cards. I’m sure Nana would be up for a hand or two.”
“Not exactly.” Clint shook his head. “An old lady is a wife or girlfriend.”
“Oh.” I looked up and our gazes locked. Was that how he saw me? A girlfriend?
“Look, you’ll be there as a friend. I just thought you might like some of the women.” His face fell and so did the volume of his voice. “I remember the other night, okay? I get it. I won’t bother you.”
My heart twisted. His usual smile was gone. The little tiny lines on the side of his mouth were smooth and somber. I’d rejected him and he was going to move on. Which was what I wanted him to do. I wanted him to continue his life and leave me alone. Let me finish school and live out exactly what I had planned. But this was just one night. Nana would be there. It was hardly a date.
“I’ll go.” I smiled a little and he smiled back. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.
It took ten minutes for Clint and me to get Nana situated in the car, then he rode his bike to the club while I drove. I got to a big metal gate and Clint pulled up next to me, punching in a code. We parked and unloaded Nana and all went inside. Clint and another guy wearing leather lifted Nana’s wheelchair up the steps and into the building.
I’d been inside quite a few rough places growing up, but never a private biker hangout. There was a long bar, a pool table, and a few old couches. People were everywhere, including a little girl in a tutu and a red-haired boy playing a board game on the bar. But in the back was a stage and a pole for stripping. Dark now because families were here, but I could imagine this place being a lot more risqué.
“Let me introduce you to the ladies,” Clint said, leading us to a small group of women. “Bettes, Krista, I’d like to introduce you to my nana, Anne, and our friend Jo.”
We made small talk and eventually Clint left to go talk to his boss.
Gradually, our conversation progressed and I was surprised to realize that I was having a good time. Krista and Bettes were funny and interesting, talking about their jobs and the things their husbands or kids said. Nana was drinking water because of her dialysis, but I was indulging in a beer with the other women. Bettes, who was the wife of the president, told us funny stories from her catering company.
“And then, she asked me to make lasagna, but leave out the noodles and the sauce.” Bettes rolled her eyes and we all laughed.
“Spending time with you girls makes me feel young again,” Nana said from her wheelchair, when the laughter quieted. She patted my hand. “I just love that Jo has come to stay with us. I got to hear all about her date last night.”
“Oh!” Krista, the blonde, leaned in. “Tell us about it. Did he take you somewhere fun?”
“We had dinner and dessert.” I smiled, thinking of Clint laughing and talking at the kitchen table. “Then he walked me to the door. I really liked him.”
The girls, even Nana, squealed.
“Did he kiss you?” Nana asked, breathlessly. “You didn’t tell me that part.”
I didn’t tell her about the kiss because it had been her grandson and also because it wasn’t that great.
“Yeah, he kissed me,” I admitted.
“Well?” Krista prompted, leaning her elbows on the table. “Was he any good?”
“He was okay.” I played with my beer bottle and then sighed. “It just wasn’t a good kiss. I think he was nervous.”
“Not good?” Bettes asked. “Your first kiss should be magical. Don’t waste your time on a bad kisser.”
“The kiss wasn’t that bad, it just wasn’t very passionate,” I tried to explain.
“I think Krista is right,” Nana tapped her finger on the table. “Our Jo shouldn’t waste her time on someone who is a bad kisser. If he didn’t have any passion, she should move on. What do you think, Clint?”
My heart sank to me knees. How much had he heard? I turned in my chair to see Clint was standing behind me with his face pinched, looking like he’d swallowed something sour.
“I’m sorry your date was a bad kisser.” He smiled, but it was a little strained at the sides. “I came to check on you. See if you needed anything.”
“Excuse me.” I stood up from the table. “I’m going to find the ladies’ room.”
Krista had given us a basic tour earlier. I fled up the stairs toward the tiny ladies’ room. I could hear his steps on the stairs, hot on my trail.
“Jo, wait!” he called after me. “I wanna talk to you.”
I slowed my jog to a walk and realized how ridiculous I was being. He wanted to talk to me and I was running away. I lived in the bedroom next to his—there was no hiding. I stopped and turned, waiting for him to have his say.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you.” He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t a real date. You only agreed to have dinner with me because another guy stood you up. I’d kiss you again, but I don’t think that’s what you want.”
I couldn’t help it, I stepped toward him and looped my arms around his neck. This was so wrong and it was everything I’d been wanting. The entire length of my body was pressed up against the entire length of his. Then he spun, almost like a dance move, and had my back against the cold wall. There was nowhere to go—not that I wanted to. Arousal hit hard between my legs as his hand smoothed over my hip. He bent down so I could feel his breath against my neck.
“When we were standing in front of your door, I didn’t know what to do,” he said against my skin.
My heart was racing. He kissed down the column of my throat and I began to rub his chest. I wanted to feel those pecs I’d been dreaming about for weeks, and I might never get the chance to again.
His hand slid down my thigh, then he hooked his fingers beneath my knee and pulled. He held my leg up near his hip while I balanced on one foot. I could feel him against me. His erection burned into my abdomen. Finally, his gaze dropped and he kissed my lips.
It wasn’t the warm pressure from last night. This was the kiss I had wanted. There was no soft preamble. His tongue penetrated my mouth right off, and all I could do was hang on and try to keep my balance. I moaned, just trying to keep up with each thrust into my mouth.
He hitched my leg up a little and I stood on tiptoe, relying on him so as not to fall. He moved his hand from my thigh, the seam of my jeans, where I was wet.
Tearing his lips from mine, he panted into my ear. “I can feel how hot you are. You’re going to slide all night long. Every step, every move, I want you to think of me and how good of a kisser I am.” He nibbled on my earlobe, and I shuddered. “I also want you to think about how much you want me and how much I want you. We’d be good together, Jo.”
“Oh!” My knees were weak.
He tugged on my hand until he could slide his arm around my waist again. I started to relax against him. He was so big and alive, and I wanted to feel his body against mine.
“I don’t know what to do here, Jo,” he admitted, giving me a squeeze. “I just know that there’s something between us, but the other night in the garage I promised not to put you in a shitty spot with your job.”
“Oh god. You’re my boss.” Reality of my situation set in, and I pushed against his chest and stepped back. “I keep forgetting.”
“Please, Jo.” He frowned. “It could be good between us.”
“It would be good between us,” I agreed. At least the sex would be great, I felt sure of that. The kiss we had just shared had been amazing. When Clint put his hands on me, my body lit on fire.
I stepped back and crosse
d my arms over my chest. “But eventually things would go bad. Then you’d be stuck living with your ex. I’d need to find a new job and we’d both be miserable. So, thanks for the offer, but I’m going to pass. A couple nights of sex isn’t worth jeopardizing everything I’ve built in my life.”
Relationships never lasted. Someone always left. I was after the more durable things in life. A degree, self-reliance, stability, all the things my mother never had when I was a child. Kissing my boss wasn’t going to help me get there.
“It wouldn’t be just a couple nights of sex.” The intensity of his gaze burned my cheeks. “I’m talking about starting a relationship, and I just need you to trust me that it won’t go bad. Even if we break up, Jo, I want you to know that you’ll always have your job and I promise I won’t make it weird between us.”
“I can’t consider it. I don’t have that luxury.” I leaned my forehead against his chest. “What happens when you try something and you fail? You’ve got this club, your family, your friends. You’ve got a whole lot of people waiting to help you. You don’t know what it’s like to live without a safety net. Do you know how to make a bed in the backseat of your car? Do you know how to hide your cash so it doesn’t get stolen at the shelter?”
“Jesus, Jo.” He wrapped his arms around me and I collapsed against him again. It felt good to have someone holding me up. But then he shifted and stepped away. After pulling something out of his pocket, he pressed it into my hand. “Here.”
“What is this?” He’d given me a little coin, but it was bronze with a raised circle in the middle.
“It’s a gift—my medallion. One year without gambling,” he whispered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I may not have ever slept in my car, and you’re right, I’ve always had a safety net. But I know what it means to have to depend only on yourself to live. I promise that I’ll never put you in a position where you have to choose between your job and our relationship.”
“I can’t accept this.” I flipped it over in my fingers. It was a tangible object of his self-control. Sort of like how my schooling was a symbol of how far I had come. I handed it back to him, but he didn’t take it.
“Please, Jo, keep it, at least for a while. Take some time and figure out if you can trust me. If you decide you don’t want the same thing, I’ll be okay and you’ll still have your job.” He gave me a grim smile.
“Are you sure you don’t need it, Clint?” I asked, searching his eyes. “What if you want to gamble?”
“There’s only one bet I’m willing to make, and it’s that you and I would be right for each other.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I promise I won’t ever kiss you again. Goodbye, Jo.”
Chapter Twelve
Clint
Well, shit. That didn’t go as planned. I stepped into my old room at the clubhouse for a minute to think, and give Jo some time alone. What the hell had she been through? Whatever her previous life had been, she didn’t need me quizzing her about it.
I needed to remember that I was her boss and I had to stay away from her. If she wanted more, she would be the one who would act on it.
That’s why I gave her my medallion. It was the gambling addict’s equivalent to giving her my class ring. I liked that she had it. I wanted her to look at it and think about me. But now I had to leave her alone.
I sighed. I needed to pretend like nothing was wrong. As I headed for the stairs, I noticed the noise level. It was getting busy down there. I would need to take Nana and Jo home very soon. Family Nights were usually pretty tame, but it was nearly 8:00 p.m. Pretty soon it would be all adults and things would heat up.
Crash grabbed my arm as soon as I hit the bottom. “Dude, I need help.” He pulled me off into a corner. “I’m having girl problems.”
Fuck. I had enough girl problems of my own. I didn’t need to hear about Crash’s bullshit too.
“Well, maybe we can help,” a woman’s voice said from behind me.
I turned to see who was there and groaned. It was Krista, with Jo pushing Nana in a wheelchair. They were coming in the back door. I took a quick look at Jo; her smile was a bit too wide. Fuck, I wanted to touch her, comfort her some way. Instead, I turned my focus back to Crash.
“Uh.” He looked at me with big, panicked eyes. He clearly didn’t want Krista’s help. She was the VP’s wife. “Thanks, but I’ll handle it.”
“Oh no.” Krista laughed. “Come on, you have three ladies here ready to sort out your girl problems.”
“Spill it,” I grumbled. Whatever fucking mess he’d gotten into, I wasn’t gonna clean it up for him. “What girl problems do you have?”
“Well, I’m here with Candice. We’ve only been out a few times.” He cleared his throat. “She’s the one over there, playing pool with Russ’s old lady. She stole one of those silver shot glasses. I saw it in her purse.”
“What?” Krista gasped. “She stole one of the custom glasses the guys got Tate for his birthday?”
“Yeah.” The word came out almost like a hurt animal moaning. “Aw fuck, Tate is gonna kill me, isn’t he?” Crash ducked his head. “I’ve been working really hard at the garage. Right, man? You’ll put in a good word for me, right? Tate’s gonna be so pissed.”
“Can’t you just get it back?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “Just tell her you know she took it and you want it back.”
“It’s not that easy, man.” His shoulders dropped. “She’ll cry and make a big old scene and say I’m accusing her of doing shit. Then everyone will know.”
“She did steal something,” I pointed out. “It’s not much of an accusation.”
“I can help,” Jo said. All eyes turned to her. She was holding on to the handles of Nana’s wheelchair. She shrugged. “I’ll get it back. Which one is she?”
Chapter Thirteen
Jo
Crash was really sweating it. I felt bad for the guy. His girlfriend must not be a very good person if she was stealing from the club her boyfriend was trying to get into. Besides, I’d just poured my guts out to Clint, so it wasn’t like I needed to hide my past.
“She’s the one in the pink shirt. I could see the shot glass in the side pocket of her purse,” Crash explained, oblivious to Clint’s scowl. “How are you gonna get it back from her?”
Sizing her up, I judged she was just about my age. This would be easy. It would feel good to practice my rusty skills. Besides, it would help me keep my thoughts away from Clint’s lips.
“I’m gonna pick her pocket. Well, her purse.” I squared my shoulders and grinned at the stunned faces surrounding me. “Krista, will you take Nana’s chair for a minute?”
Once Krista was holding on to Nana’s chair, I made my way across the clubhouse floor. It was a long walk from the bar to where the women were playing pool. Shit, maybe this had been a bad idea. I could feel Clint and Nana’s eyes boring into my back as I walked; I’d never put on a pickpocket performance before. I took a deep breath.
“Candice!” I screeched as I got over to the pool table.
The two women looked at me, confused. There was no turning back now.
“Don’t you remember me?” I asked, all smiles. “Ninth grade homeroom? I’m Jo Warner! I moved halfway through the year, but you have to remember me!”
Candice blinked at me, then smiled. “Oh my god, Jo!” She put her arms around me for a big hug.
This was my chance. As Candice was giving me a bear hug, I was rooting around in her purse. Candice’s body was blocking the view of her friend, but I was pretty sure that Clint and Nana could see everything. My fingers closed around the silver shot glass, but then my knuckles hit against something else. From the hardness of the metal and temperature, I guessed it was another shot glass. She’d stolen a set. Sneaking one was easy enough—sneaking two was going to mean more time spent and more skill to hide the first one. Damn.
; “So great to see you!” I said, pulling away. I had nowhere to stash this shot glass except in my back pocket. I hoped she wouldn’t notice the obvious lump in my jeans. Now I just needed to get number two.
“What happened to you?” she asked. “I remember you left, but where did you go?”
“Oh, well, you remember my dad was in the military?” I asked.
“The army, right?” Candice smiled. “Or the navy? I can’t remember.”
Bless her heart. She had no idea I was scamming her.
I nodded. “The army. See, you remember! Anyway, he got stationed in North Carolina, so we had to move—and I got a southern accent as a bonus!”
Both Candice and her friend laughed. They offered to let me play a round with them, but I declined.
“I would love to, but I’m working.” I pouted. “I’m taking care of the lady in the wheelchair over by the bar. I’m her health aide. But it was sure nice seeing you! How about one more hug?”
“So great to see you!” Candice squealed, pulling me into another hug.
This was easy as pie. I rooted around in her purse again and quickly found the other shot glass. I did another search of her purse and didn’t feel anything else.
“See you later!” I palmed the shot glass and held it behind my back. “Bye!” I waved with my empty hand.
Nana and Krista were laughing, but Clint just looked sad. When I got back to the group, I handed my gains to Crash.
“She had two of them,” I said. “She might have more, but this was all I could find.”
“Holy shit.” Crash gave me a bear hug. “That was fucking awesome! Thanks, Jo!”
“I’m gonna go check and see if that’s all she took.” Krista grabbed the two little glasses and headed to the back of the bar. I took over the handles of Nana’s wheelchair.
“Break up with her today,” Clint told Crash. “You can’t date someone who steals from the club.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “It was nice having her around the house, though. Oh well. At least I won’t get drummed out. I’ll go talk to her now.”
Outlaw Ride Page 7
