That’s a good question. I want to blame it on hormones. “He got sweet. When my ex came back—”
“Your ex? Came to Silent Valley? Why?”
“Because he’s a self-centered idiot that decided I would be thrilled to take him back after his intern lied to him about being pregnant.”
Bram laughs. “That guy has nerve.”
“He already had the prenup written up. Like Rothswyler would accept that. He really does think I’m stupid. So anyway, the grumpy, hot neighbor came over to rescue me. Then we talked for hours, I had breakfast with him, then mauled him in my front yard.”
“Go back to having breakfast with him?” Bram's fingers roll backwards with the words.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Though, could I imagine having breakfast with Havoc the other way? All too easily. That man is walking sin, tempting me to do all sorts of things I would never do. Including kissing a stranger in my front yard. Darrel and I didn’t kiss until our tenth date. “And I found out he’s a biker like you.”
“Like me?”
“You know, in the gang thingy.”
“Don’t call it a gang thingy,” Bram practically groans.
“Whatever. You know what I meant.” Calling it a club doesn’t change what it is.
“So tell me about this biker that you kissed.”
“It’s really not a big deal.” Though it felt epic.
“That’s the thing. When one of my brothers kisses a girl like you, he isn’t playing games.”
Um, between him and Dylan, I might need to freak out a little bit. “Wait, what do you mean, a girl like me?”
“Are you serious, or are you fishing for compliments?”
I stab my piece of cake with my fork and glare at him.
“Fine, I’ll take that as you’re serious. There are a few types of women. But for the sake of this discussion, we’ll talk about two. Women that want to have fun, and women that you put on the back of your bike.”
“Is this some kind of secret code? I like to have fun, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t enjoy riding on a bike.”
“That’s not what I meant. Putting a woman on the back of your bike means claiming her. It’s kind of like putting a ring on her finger.”
“What? No, I am not looking to get another ring on my finger. It was just a kiss.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“He’s got a kid—”
“Your neighbor is Havoc.”
“Yes.”
Bram starts laughing. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.”
None of this seems brilliant to me. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got an appointment soon.”
***
Men drive me out of my mind. Bram laughed even as I walked out of the restaurant door. He lost his mind, and so has Havoc if he thinks I’m going to ride on his bike as a symbol of anything.
Pregnant women don’t ride motorcycles.
