“I’ve taken lessons in manners.” It was unfortunate the men were between her and the door.
The other guy had dirty brown hair, parted in the middle, but was clean-shaven. He was thin and very pale. “I’m Trout and this is Plot. We’re with the Alite motorcycle club, and we’re looking for somebody to party with us for the weekend. Heard you screaming good outside and thought you might want to hop on a bike and go for a run. We’ll treat you nice.”
She wasn’t entirely sure what a run entailed, but she knew she wasn’t interested in accompanying either of these men. “That’s kind of you, but contrary to my recent behavior, I’m not a lot of fun.”
Trout grinned, showing a piece of bacon caught by his upper incisor. “You would be with us. Come on. A run is totally cool. We ride down the coast and will end up around Tahoe for a three-day party before continuing on to Phoenix. It’s wicked. Tons of drinking, good food, great sex. I promise we’ll take care of you.”
There was no way either of these men could match the orgasm Garrett had provided with just his hand. “My answer is a polite no.”
They lost the smiles. The energy in the room changed.
Plot glared. “Listen, whore. We’re totally fun, and you’re going to miss out. Why would you go out back with a Grizzly for a quick feel and not come have a whole weekend with us?”
He did not just call her a derogatory term. “Did you see that Grizzly?” she asked. “Did you get a look at him? If asked, the table would’ve grown girl parts and gone out back with him.” It wasn’t kind, but she didn’t appreciate the way they were looking at her. Even so, when Trout appeared more hurt than angry, she sighed. “Listen. It’s like—”
The door opened, and Garrett strode inside, with Sam next to him.
She’d misread them at lunch. They weren’t slightly dangerous but good-natured guys. They were killers.
Garrett still had the sunglasses on his head, and his metallic eyes had gone flat. Deadly. Furious. “What the fuck is going on?”
A shiver stroked through her, and this time it had nothing to do with desire. She chilled, her instincts flaring awake, like small prey in a forest when a predator has gotten too close.
Sam edged to Garrett’s side, and if Dessie had thought he’d be the voice of reason, she’d been wrong. His shoulders were back, and anger darkened the sharp angles of his face. “I was hopin’ to try out my new knife on this trip.”
Trout swiveled next to Plot, shoulder to shoulder, slightly blocking Dessie.
Garrett could see her over their heads. “You. There.” He pointed to the far wall.
Her legs carried her to that wall before her brain even caught his meaning. “There’s no need for consternation, everyone.”
Sam cut a look at Garrett. “Consternation?”
Garrett pinned her in place with his gaze for a long second and swept her entire body with it before focusing on the other two motorcycle club men. “If you so much as scared her, you’re dead.”
“I’m not scared,” Dessie whispered. Well, she wasn’t scared of Trout or Plot. Garrett was another matter entirely.
Trout puffed out his unimpressive chest. “We heard you out back with her. She ain’t wearing your colors. Any colors.”
Dessie frowned. “What are—” At Garrett’s look, she shut up. The lookclearlysaid to shut up. She might be free and brave, but she wasn’t stupid.
“She sat with the Grizzlies for lunch. You knew this. You were in the far right corner, and you saw her. Therefore, colors or not, you fucked up.” Garrett’s voice was low and soft, full of unmistakable menace. “Dessie? Did they hurt you?” He didn’t look at her.
“No, not at all,” she said quickly. “Honest. They just invited me on what’s called a run, and I said no.”
Sam set his stance. “How did they take your refusal?”
She blinked. “Um, good? It’s fine, Sam. None of you belong in the ladies’ room.”
Garrett now focused on her, and she felt like a specimen tacked to the wall. “What did they say?” When she started to lie, his chin lowered. “Told you once not to lie to me, baby. You don’t want me to tell you again.”
Her throat went dry. Like she’d eaten sawdust. So she told him, word for word.
Garrett’s expression didn’t change, and he looked at Plot. “Did you call my woman a whore?”
His woman? She tried to swallow so she could talk, but her mouth was a desert. Finally, she cleared her throat. “It’s fine. They were more hurt than angry, Garrett. And to be honest, I did go out back with a man I’d just met and have a fairly loud orgasm.” She had to be fair. “It’s not like they knew that the situation was unique and that you’re the only one.”
He paused and then looked directly at her again. Did he have any idea how powerful that gaze was? Yeah, he probably did. “The only one what?”
