Harley started pointing to various things, offering them to me. Some were sensible, and looked tasty, but others were just crazy.
“Porridge and ham in a toastie?!” I started giggling, and Harley grinned widely.
“I dare ya.”
I glanced at the cakes, and pointed. “Only if you eat one of those lemon muffins with the tomato soup, but you have to dip it in.”
He made a gagging face, and nudged me forward.
“How about you have the fruit cake with uh…” he glanced around and laughed, “with the spicy chicken soup. You have to break pieces up and shove them in.”
The server frowned at us as we babbled stupid ideas at each other, but you know what? I made it through that queue, and we ordered our food and drinks, plus some bits for the others back at the shop, and when we stepped outside, into blissfully cooler air, and a fraction of the decibel level from inside, I realised that I did it. I didn’t freak out, and I didn’t have to run.
“Thank you,” I said softly, as I took Harley’s offered hand, while he carried the tray of drinks, and I carried the bag of food.
“You did good,” he said casually, “but I’m never letting you cook for me, not now I know how crazy you like your food.”
He caught my eye, and smiled as I giggled, and I realised that it didn’t matter if he was friends with big scary guys, because he really wasn’t one himself. I didn’t think the fact that he was in a biker club mattered either, because I didn’t have to be around them. Just him. I could be around just him so easily that it felt like it was meant to be. I was meant to meet him, because he seemed to understand me. He saw past my difficulties and struggles, and saw me. The me inside, the person I sometimes forgot was in there, because I was so focused outward on the things I couldn’t do, or was afraid of. He saw beyond everything external, and that meant I could trust him.
Chapter Fourteen
ICOULDN’T BELIEVE SHE’D coped so well in the coffee shop, and I was hoping that’d bode well for whatever we walked in on when we got back to my place, and as luck would have it, there was no carnage. No bodies. No screaming or yelling. Nobody was even bleeding.
“Whoa. I feel like I stepped into a parallel universe,” I said as I walked in to see Grease and Jamie standing at Rocket’s bay, flipping through his photos.
“It’s okay,” Jamie said, smirking at Grease, “they haven’t even punched each other yet. It’s oddly dull.”
Grease hip bumped her, and pointed at the folder, and I realised I couldn’t see Rocket anywhere. I set down the drinks, and showed Caroline where to unload the food.
“Where is he? If you killed him, I’m gonna be pissed off. Who’ll tidy up all his shit?”
“He’s in the bay chatting with a customer.”
Huh. A customer of mine? Or one of his? I wanted to storm out there and make sure he wasn’t pissing off a regular of mine, butthen wasn’t the whole point of this for him to meet my clients and sell his service to them?
“Does he need me out there?”
Grease closed the folder and returned it to Caroline’s desk, where she immediately started flicking to find her place again.
“It was some guy looking to get mods done, but I don’t know if it’s cosmetic or not. You might wanna check.”
“What food did you bring? Something smells amazing,” Jamie said, heading for the bag.
“Caroline, can you show them what’s going spare, while I check on Rocket?”
No response. Frantic flipping of pages was my only indication that she was even in the room. I rested my hands gently on her shoulders, and she flinched ever so slightly as she looked away from the folder.
“Food. Can you help Jamie and Grease find theirs? I need to see to a customer. Please.”
She blinked, her eyes darting back to the folder, but then she took a deep breath and nodded.
“Don’t let them eat mine. If you don’t watch Grease, he’ll eat everything.”
“I heard that, prick.”
I headed into the bay, watching them from the corner of my eye as I walked, just to make sure Caroline was comfortable. She was already giggling over something with Jamie, so I figured she was okay for a moment.
“Hey, we’re back,” I said as I poked my head around the corner into the bay. Rocket was standing with a man I recognised. A client who’d been in a few times in the last year. They were standing over a pretty bog standard V-Max, which looked exactly like a blank slate, and I loved working on those.
