“He wants to join but has to prove himself.”
“I see.” I glance around the room as I feel the gazes of all the men on me, realizing I’m currently the only woman here and that if they wanted to have their way with me, there is really no one here to stop them.
“Let’s go out back. Fresh air,” he suggests as the younger guy behind the bar places our drinks on the end. I take the unopened can of Coke and relax a smidge.
The sun nearly blinds me as we step onto the back patio where there’s a decent sized swimming pool and hot tub. The rest of the building makes up an L- shape. I drop onto a lounger with an umbrella that does little to shield me from the sun.
“Do all the club members live here?”
“We can come and go. I’ve got a room here, but I’ve also got an apartment over my shop.”
“Your shop?”
“Outlaw Ink.”
“Tattoos?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Tats. Piercings. Body modification.”
“Are you an artist, or do you just own the place?” I shield my eyes with my hand.
“You ask a lot of questions.” He takes a hearty sip of his beer. I can’t help but watch the way his throat bobs when he swallows. He pulls a pair of sunglasses off his head and hands them to me.
“How else am I supposed to get to know you and figure anything out?” I slip the sunglasses on and pop the tab on the Coke can.
“No ring.”
“Hmm?”
“You were wearing a wedding gown, but there’s not a ring on your finger.”
I stare at my hands. He’s right. “Maybe I ran out before the ceremony?”
“Maybe you did or maybe you threw it in the ocean. Too many possibilities. Too many unknowns.”
“Everything about me is unknown.”
“A mystery,” he mutters under his breath and downs his beer. “Fuck, it’s hot.” He pulls his T-shirt over his head, and my jaw nearly hits the patio.
Kevlar is ripped. Sweat glistens on his chest.
“Taking a dip.” He kicks his shoes off and lays his phone with his discarded shirt.
I watch him dive in, enjoying the way the muscles in his back flex with his movements.
The sight leaves me breathless and wanting to jump in after him.
“You should put this on. Don’t want to get burned.” The chick who helped get me out of that dress hands me a tube of sunblock.
“Thanks.”
“I’m Ashley.”
“You can call me Lacey.”
“You have your memory back?” She takes up the lunger on my other side.
“No. It’s just a name I picked out. Kevlar needed something to call me.”
