Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I put my hand in his and he tugs me off the stool and onto a free spot of floor. There’s no room for dancing, not really, but he puts his arm around my back and it’s easy to fall into a gentle sway with my thumbs loosely hooked into his belt loops. My pulse speeds up a little, but he’s so relaxed about it that it’s easy to just go with the flow. I don’t know if this was the bar Georgia used to hang out in, but it makes me feel a little closer to her to think that maybe she danced with her own biker back in the day. I hope she did.
“What’s your next step?” he asks.
“I wait.”
“Fucking hate that part.”
We drift a little closer. “Yeah… The police came by today.”
His sway pauses for a moment. “What did they want to know?”
“He was mostly asking about Georgia. Kept pushing to make me say things that would make her look bad.” I wrinkle my nose, remembering. “A jerk, basically. Oh! He did ask about you guys and why you were with me at the hospital.”
“What did you say?” Jackal asks. There’s tension in the question.
It suddenly occurs to me that if I was in his shoes, I probably wouldn’t be thrilled with the police nosing around in my business. The Outlaw Sons have been nothing but good to me, but I’m not dumb. It hasn’t made me forget their reputation. I doubt they are on great terms with the local police.
“Nothing. I told him I wouldn’t answer. I’m sorry if that makes him think I was hiding something. I probably should’ve just said that you weren’t involved at all and you were just being nice, but I was so freaking angry at how he talked about my sister, and then he implied that if I didn’t cooperate, I might be held accountable for her accident. I had to get him out of my place before I gave him a reason to arrest me.”
“What the fuck? Why would you be responsible?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it right now.” I lean in, and he pulls me the rest of the way until my cheek is resting against his chest. A broad hand strokes slowly up and down my back. Our swaying doesn’t even really fit with the music, but neither of us seem to mind.
“You look real nice tonight,” Jackal says quietly. “The bun was cute, but this is better.” His fingers tangle in the ends of my hair, tugging gently.
“Really? Are you sure I’m not overdressed?” I nod my head in the direction of a girl who’s wearing shorts so short I can see the bottom of her butt cheeks pop out when she moves. “It’s November. She must be freezing.”
“She’s countin’ on someone else keeping her warm.” He chuckles. “Not that I would complain about seeing more skin, but I think you’re just fine. Those jeans are doing God’s work.”
I’m glad my face is at least partly hidden, because I don’t want him to see my flustered smile, or the heat I know is rising on my cheeks. His hands skirt lower, resting just at my hips with his fingers spread so I can feel them just touching my ass. We stay like that until the end of the song, before heading back to the bar. Stiff and Lash watch as we weave through the crowd. Stiff stands up and offers his stool, sliding in right behind me close enough to act as a human backrest. I keep waiting for them to show those subtle signs of staking a claim that happens when things get a little flirty, but either I’m reading too much into biker body language, or they genuinely don’t mind.
Either way, I’ve got too many real things to worry about in my life right now to worry about dating. If they weren’t already aware of my situation, there’s no way I’d be here, but this is nice. I don’t have to put on a fake smile. I sip my fake beer and lean back into Stiff as Lash breaks into a story about how the guy who lives next to him keeps waking everyone up with his screaming because he’s trying to start cold water swimming by taking ice cold showers.
“But is it working?” I ask, laughing.
He shrugs. “Only if his strategy is to piss us off until we tie him up and drop him off the pier ourselves.”
9
DAKOTA
After a lazy Sunday with Logan, I’m ready for my big evening plans with a book, a fuzzy blanket and as many candles as I can light without setting off the fire alarms. I still haven’t told my father or Logan about Georgia. Both for about the same reason. I don’t want to say anything until I know what’s happening. I did call into work to let them know I’m taking a few days off to start figuring out what I need to do. My boss wasn’t happy, but she can grumble all she wants. I’m one of her most reliable aides.