ONE
JINX
She’s been staringat me for a solid ten minutes. Legs crossed and lithe leg swinging as she taps her foot in the air, seated out front of Joey’s barber shop.
Which is the first indication that this could only be trouble.
Considering the old bigot refuses to cut women’s hair, it means that she waits for a man. Or a child. Maybe both. Any one of those options brings complications.
Every fucking time.
Women like her are the reason I gave up dating in the civilian world. Women like her are the reason I steer clear of the club girls, too. They always seem like fun—until they aren’t. And then it’s a month of fucking Sundays, undoing the drama that could have been avoided if I just kept my dick in my pants to begin with.
The sun beats down on her tanned skin, a ball cap pulled low to shield her smoky eyes. Caramel blonde waves fall over her shoulders, arms folded beneath her generous tits. She’s a looker—I’ll give her that. But that’s usually the problem, isn’t it? I pocket my phone, figuring I’ll finish catching up on the groupthread later, and get off my bike. Her shrewd gaze follows every movement as I swing my leg over and strike boots to the ground.
The bell over the barber shop door chimes, yet she doesn’t falter. Doesn’t look away. The woman’s dedicated to her cause—that’s for sure.
“You got somethin’ you need to say, darlin’?” Call them out on their bullshit and catch them off guard. Nine times out of ten, they’re all bravado until confronted, and then they’re as quiet as a church mouse.
“Perhaps.” She traps her bubblegum pink lip between her teeth and raises her chin to do a slow take. “You give rides on that thing?”
Turns out the woman is the preacher’s cat. All sass and swagger.
“Not unless I plan on fuckin’ them.” I run a hand through my hair and question my reasoning for opening my goddamn mouth.So not in the mood for this shit today.Maybe I should have parked the damn bike elsewhere? If her pissed off old man comes out those doors and assumes things are what they ain’t, then a glossy black Harley will be the first flag for his rage.
Can’t be fucked putting the damn thing in the shop for repairs—again.
The woman rises to her feet in my periphery and slowly crosses the wide sidewalk, fingertips shoved in the too-small pockets for her even smaller cut-off shorts. “You got a helmet for me, then?”
“Nope.” Flawless skin and long lashes, the woman’s a knockout, for sure. But like I said, I ain’t here looking for complications.
She staggers back a step when I brush past; the rejection seems to catch her off guard. “You got a problem, or something?”
I wince at her question.She doesn’t know.Simply a poor choice of words in an even shittier situation.
“Do you?” I don’t turn around as I walk. Don’t need to. Have no plans of making this conversation last. Felt it in my gut when I rolled out of bed this morning that it’d be a fucked up day, and she only reinforces that feeling by stalking me.
A sigh huffs behind my left shoulder. “Guess you are all assholes like I was told.”
“Guess we are.”What else did she expect?
Her footsteps track me toward the municipal building. “You got an ol’ lady? Is that it?”
“Nope.”
“Some sweetbutt you’re in love with who hopes to be one?”
“Nope.”
“Then what’s your problem?”
I come to an abrupt stop at the base of the stone steps. I’ve never found the need to justify my decisions to anyone, let alone some five-foot something mouth who can’t read the fucking room. The woman scuffs her small, imitation leather boots in her haste not to crash into me. “My problem is everyone assumes that because I’m a man, and I’m in an MC, that all I want to do is fuck the first pretty thing with tits and a cunt that flashes eyes at me.” Her gaze widens at my tirade, but she holds her ground. “I ain’t interested in you. Actually, no. Iaminterested in something about you, and that’s who the hell you are since I ain’t seen you ‘round here before.”
“You know everyone in this town, do you?”
“Mostly. Yeah.” Comes with the territory when you’ve never been out of the area more than a handful of times your entire life. Seasons change, people come and go, and you’re there to watch it all.
“I’m visiting for the fall if you must know.” The bombshell lifts her chin, arms foldedoverher generous rack this time. “My brother and his family.”
