“Okay.”
She leans over and hugs me, then walks out.
I watch through the window as she climbs into her car. It’s not long before I hear a motorcycle.
Blue is alone and backs his bike to the curb right in front, then climbs off and heads to the door.
My back is to it, but I hear the bell jingle and then, a moment later, I feel a presence and know he’s standing next to me.
When I look up, he slides into the seat across from me.
The waitress appears before we even say a word.
“You want coffee, doll?” She gives Blue a big smile and cracks the gum she’s chewing.
When he waves her off, her smile fades and she retreats.
“Took you long enough,” he says softly, pinning me with his eyes.
I frown, and he clarifies.
“Been waitin’ three damn days for you to text me.”
I lift my chin. “You were so angry.”
“I was. Don’t like bein’ lied to, but I thought we worked it out. Did you mean what you said when you told me you loved me?”
I nod, my eyes starting to glisten.
He blows out a breath, his eyes moving around the diner before coming back to mine. “Then I guess I better show you what you’re getting yourself into. Come on. Let’s take a ride.”
I slide out of the seat, and he takes my hand, walking us to his bike. We pass Carmen sitting in her car. Blue doesn’t seem to notice her, but she gives me a thumbs up.
Blue climbs on his bike, reaches into his saddlebag and passes me the helmet he got for me.
I put it on and climb on the back. A moment later, he tugs my hands around his waist.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He hits the throttle, and we roar off down the street.
I have no clue where we’re going. I’m still a little shocked by what I’ve just done. I just walked out holding hands with a Saint’s Outlaw on Main Street in broad daylight and climbed on the back of his bike.
Riding off with one of them is bound to attract attention, especially in this town. People know me, know my father, and I wonder if word will get back to him.
It seems like Blue is done hiding.
Soon, I realize he’s headed toward the Saint’s clubhouse, and sure enough, he turns in, and we roll across the crushed gravel lot.
A bunch of other motorcycles are parked out front, and the minute we climb off the bike, I smell food cooking on a grill.
Blue takes my helmet. “We’re havin’ a cookout today. It’s Zig’s birthday. The party might last all night.”
“Oh.” When we walk through the door, it's dim inside, and my eyes take a moment to adjust, but I’m immediately bombarded by the music blasting.
The place is crowded with both men and women, and some turn to look at Blue and me as we walk inside.
