Amelia’s words hit me harder than they should. She knows I’ve never been one who yields to caution, and I’m not about to start tonight.
“She’s not the same girl she was ten years ago. She can handle herself,” my cousin states and wipes the bar top.
“Yeah?” I question, brow raised. “I think I want to find out for myself,” I announce straightening further, eyes trailing after Della.
I turn my attention back to Amelia to see she drops the bar rag.
“You good?” I ask, taking my cousin in. It’s not lost on me the way she looks. More than one cowboy or biker has tried hitting on her.
“Of course, I am,” Amelia cocks a brow. “Why do you ask?”
“Just asking, seeing as you got a hickey on your neck.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Amelia move so fast as she slaps her hand over the mark.
“It’s not a hickey. I burned myself this morning with the curling iron.”
There’s no stopping the laugh that bellows out of me at her comment. “Babe, seriously? Your hair is fuckin’ straight,” I point out.
“Whatever,” she mutters, dropping her hand and wiping the bar top in front of her.
“You good to get home tonight with the prospect?” With her car broken down and Shade looking at it, I’ve got Stretch, one of the prospects, seeing to her getting home.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to get him to come stay in here in case Russell shows up?” I ask, wanting to make sure she was good on all fronts, including the piece of shit ex of hers. I can’t stand the fucker.
“No, I don’t need him in here. I’ll meet him out front when I lock up.”
“Okay, you sure?”
“I’m fine.” She nods and glances toward the door Della had just walked out of and changes the subject. “It’s good to see her. It’s been years.”
“Right,” I grunt, tap the bar with my knuckles, and stalk toward the door, my attention returning to the task of following after Della. I’ll at least make sure she gets out of here safely since she wouldn’t let me walk her out.
The thought alone should cause me to pause, but it doesn’t. We have security and prospects to do this kind of thing. So, why am I doing it?
This isn’t like me.
What I don’t understand is why the hell does that thought bother me so much? I could easily pick from any of these women here at the bar or go to the clubhouse and find a saddle bunny to fuck. I don’t need to be fixating on some blonde who wants to give me lip because I was gonna walk her out to her damn car.
The moment I step outside, the cool night breeze hits me. I welcome it while scanning the parking lot, eyes catching on Della as she gets into her car. Gritting my teeth, I stay planted where I’m standing, watching her back out of a spot, and pull out of the lot. She doesn’t look in my direction as she passes by, which grates on my nerves in a way it shouldn’t.
“What is it about her that’s drawn me to follow after?”
Not wanting to answer my own damn question, I shake my head and walk along the building to where my bike is parked. No need for me to go back inside. I’m sure if I did, my brothers would all give me shit for this stunt. No doubt they’ll do just that when they catch up with me at the clubhouse.
CHAPTER THREE
Della
I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.
I didn’t want to see him.
I haven’t. Not since I turned eighteen years old.
Sure, he’d been at the funeral, but not close up. Not anywhere near me. I made sure of it.
The last time I saw Tyler King, Amelia’s cousin, was right before I graduated high school. He humiliated me in the worst way possible, and I suppose he doesn’t remember. I mean, who would besides me? I was forgettable back then. No one would remember the plain Jane who was too smart for her own good.
