“Good.”King clapped him once on the shoulder.“Let’s bring her in.”
When Tessa stepped into the room, her gaze bounced between the patched leather vests, the heavy table, and Brick.Her stare lingered on him just a second too long.He didn’t like how that pause felt.
“Brick here will be your escort,” King said.
Tessa looked at Brick again.Smiled.
That smile hit him harder than any bar brawl ever had.
“Thank you,” she said softly.“I appreciate it.”
He didn’t answer, Brick simply couldn’t.Because the last thing Brick needed right now was for her to hear how uneven his damn heartbeat had become.
It made no sense.None.He was a grown man, a patched member and the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms.He’d lived through enough blood, brutality, and back-alley chaos to be carved from stone.He’d taken bullets without flinching.
He’d stared men in the eye as they begged for mercy.He’d gone through women who wanted a night of danger or the thrill of a man who didn’t talk much.He’d slept with every type.Bar girls, townies, club hang-arounds, women who liked him silent, women who didn’t care who he was as long as they got what they came for.
Never had his body betrayed him like this.Not for a smile.Not for a braid slipping loose over a curvy shoulder.Not for a pair of warm, dark eyes looking at him like he was safe.Like she wasn’t standing in front of a man who could break bones without breaking a sweat.
But Tessa Hart?One damn look and his heartbeat was behaving like it belonged to a teenager noticing a girl for the first time.
Brick was pathetic.This was unacceptable and dangerous.He didn’t react like this.He didn’t lose control.He didn’t let anything, especially a woman, slip past the walls He’d spent his entire life fortifying.
Chapter Two
Tessa Hart had beeninside plenty of rough neighborhoods, but nothing compared to the silent mountain of a man currently walking her toward a matte-black Harley like she was being escorted to an execution.
Brick moved with the kind of coiled stillness that suggested he didn’t waste words because violence did the talking for him.He had broad shoulders, thick arms, and hands that looked capable of snapping cinder blocks.
Brick was a wall of muscle and quiet menace and yet, despite the intimidation radiating off him, Tessa felt weirdly safe.Comforted, even.Which was ridiculous and concerning.And also, frankly, very on-brand for her questionable taste in men.
Brick opened the truck door for her.It was a battered black F-150 instead of the bike she assumed he’d take and waited until she climbed inside.He didn’t speak and didn’t smile.Heck, Brick didn’t even glance her way as he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
He did, however, make sure she was secure before he moved a muscle.That tiny, subtle gesture lodged somewhere deep in her chest.When he slid into the driver’s seat, the truck dipped with his weight.
He started the engine and pulled out of the lot without so much as a hello.Tessa cleared her throat, determined not to let silence win.
