I opened the box and inside was an origami wolf. “Snarl, this is amazing. Did you fold this as well?”
He nodded. “Made of Japanese silver foil.”
“I…I don’t know what to say. These might be the most beautiful gifts I’ve ever received.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
I settled my chin in my hand. “I have to admit, you’re not at all what I expect a biker to be, and it’s throwing me for a loop, big time.”
“You mentioned ‘outing me’ to my brothers back there, but believe it or not, my club doesn’t tolerate the disrespect ofanywoman. It’s actually written in our code.”
“Seriously?”
“Dead serious. Most of our guys have wives, girlfriends, families. That sorta thing. Some of ’em even have daughters.”
“Ah, I see. Your club is full of themodern, elevated man type, huh?”
Snarl chuckled. “Yeah, well. Most of ’em are anyway. But even the worst of our knuckle draggers would take a knife to the liver before they ever laid hands on a woman with evil intent.”
“So, you hand carve ornate boxes and fold silver foil for every woman you meet?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Those gestures are only for the ones I find irresistibly fascinating, brilliant, and beautiful.”
“And how many of those have there been?”
“The lifetime grand total?”
“How about you narrow the count down to the past five years?”
Snarl paused briefly before producing his answer. “One.”
I snorted. “That’s a big fat lie.”
He cocked his head. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re telling me you’ve only been on one date over the past five years? I’m about ten degrees shy of being a total shut-in and even I’ve been on more dates than that.”
Snarl laughed. “I didn’t say I haven’t dated, just that I haven’t found a woman who’s struck me like you have in a long time.”
I felt my face go flush. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I’m still not buying that you’ve been a monk for the past five years.”
“Oh, you’re talking about sex,” Snarl said. “Usually, I wait until at least the second drink to talk about sex, but we can do that now if you want to.”
“Uh…” I stammered.
“Are you blushing?” Snarl teased.
Mercifully, our server returned just then with our drinks and to take our order. I opted for my usual, predictable and boring Cobb salad, and Snarl ordered a thirty-ounce bone-in tomahawk steak.
“Oh, and two dozen oysters please,” he said before turning to me. “Do you like oysters? Should we get three dozen?”
I laughed. “I’m sure two dozen will be plenty.”
Lennon
OUR CONVERSATION FLOWED easily throughout the meal as we got to know each other. Snarl listened intently when I spoke and seemed genuinely interested when I talkedabout my research. He appeared to be well-versed in a wide range of topics from home repair to the current geopolitical landscape. I had to constantly remind myself that he was a member of a motorcycle club and not a college professor, even though he seemed to be smarter than most of the ones I’d studied with.
“Can I ask you a super personal question?” I asked, once I had the courage of two martinis in me.
