Jealousy bristled along my spine, but I chastised myself for it. Trooper and I were…nothing, technically. Just friends. Onekiss—whether it was real or not—didn’t mean I had any claim on him.
Trooper cast a final glance over his shoulder in my direction.
“Call me again if anything gives you bad vibes.”
“I have a shotgun in the broom closet, remember?”
He flashed me a smile as he backed up toward the door, twisting the knob.
“I know. Call me anyway. I want to enjoy the show when you wipe the floor with him.”
I watched Trooper leave, stepping outside to speak to Hades in the parking lot. Raine clucked her tongue and planted a hand on her hip, fixing me with a stern look.
“Did you really think I would poach your man right in front of you like that?”
“He’s not my man,” I said, turning away.
She huffed with amusement.
“I know for a fact you did not forget that kiss already.”
My fingers strayed to my lips and Trooper’s phantom heat lingering there.
No. I wouldn’t be forgetting that kiss any time soon.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Hades remained in the parking lot, hanging out near his bike. Raine brought him a few drinks from our mini fridge to stay hydrated and chatted for a bit. But she had learned a long time ago that flirting with him was useless. He was still devoted to his ex-wife and his eyes never strayed to anyone else, even for a moment.
Thankfully, none of my clients would be scared off by a biker in the vicinity, so he didn’t drive away any business. Andthe permanent scowl seemingly etched into his features ensured that everyone was on their best behavior around me.
After locking up, I waved to him as I climbed into my Jeep. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement and I thought that would be the end of it. But when I turned out of the parking lot, Hades was in my rearview mirror. He followed me all the way back to my rental house.
Pulling into my driveway, I spotted a figure seated on my porch bench, shrouded in the shadows of late evening. My heart lurched against my ribs for a moment.
Until the figure rose and stepped into the light.
I released a breath of relief when I recognized Otis “Hillbilly” Parker, President of the Reckless Order MC and father to my best friend, Lila. I had no doubt that he was here because Trooper told him about the incident with Ritter.
Climbing out of my Jeep, I tucked my keys into my back pocket.
“You really shouldn’t sneak up on a woman like that,” I said. “What if I had pepper spray? Or a baseball bat?”
“Then I hope you would use it and ask questions later, just like I taught you,” Hillbilly said.
I sighed. The tension of the day was finally beginning to ease and I felt exhausted. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until I opened the shop in the morning. Hillbilly retrieved a beer from a small cooler on the bench and held it out.
“Trooper told me about the creep, Ritter,” he said with that smooth country drawl. “So, I thought you could use a drink.”
Trudging up the steps, I accepted it and plopped down on the bench.
“I didn’t want to bring your club into this.”
He shrugged and took a seat beside me.
“If you brought us in earlier, we might have been able to bite it in the ass before it became an ordeal in the first place.”
I grumbled and popped the top off my beer bottle, swallowing the wonderfully cool liquid.
“You’re staying with Lila tonight,” Hillbilly said in a firm tone, indicating the decision was not up for debate.
