He nodded, paled when he realized what he’d been doing, and stopped with a jerk. “Sorry. I’ll remember to come to you next time if I have a problem.”
I nodded once, dismissing him with the twitch of my head. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to stop him from frightening Callie every time he spoke.
Callie walked out of the house holding a sandwich, a bag of chips, and a drink.
She waved them at me and dropped onto the wooden bench beneath an old oak with sprawling branches.
Diesel had built the bench a few years ago. Few people besides him used it, but I’d noticed Callie often sat there with her eyes on the road.
An engine growled in the distance, and her head swiveled toward the sound.
The Harley topped the hill and rolled into view, and Callie’s shoulders dropped, her entire body sliding into a slouch. She shook her head and tore a bite off the sandwich with an angry twist.
What was that all about?
Sam rode the Harley to a stop near the front of the house and dismounted. He joined Dylan and a few others on the porch, the whole group laughing and slapping each other on the back.
“She thought it was Colt.” Diesel spoke from behind me. “I heard her muttering to herself when the engine revved. Kind of sounds like his bike.”
She already knew the sound of Colt’s ride?
Jarrad pulled the truck and trailer around from behind the shop and hopped out.
Callie tossed her trash and rushed over, climbing in the passenger seat faster than I thought possible.
Jarrad glanced from her to me and back, shrugged, and hopped behind the wheel.
“Colt would bet she’d be driving the truck by the first pitstop.” Diesel almost grinned, but the tightness around his mouth prevented it. He crossed his arms and waited beside me. “Come up with an answer yet?”
“No.” I left it at that and forced my feet to move. I didn’t dare stand around watching the truck leave, but I kept an eye on it as I walked into the house and across to my office.
I had work to do, and that included trying to figure out a way to protect Callie. She wouldn’t ask for it, and she’d deny it if I asked.
Good thing I didn’t feel obligated to ask. I’d seen the look in her eyes in men who grew up in war zones and in kids who were taught to never cry.
It hollowed them from the inside out, creating shells of emotionless bodies that had no idea how to be human.
I could help her before it came to that.
Getting her out on the road, with a real job to do, meant she had structure, purpose, and someone by her side I trusted because the whole club would go batshit if Diesel or I lowered ourselves to doing a supply run.
Five hours later, the bark of tires on gravel and the flash of headlights sent me back to the garage to meet Callie and Jarrad.
She slid from the driver’s seat with a grin and laughed at something Jarrad said. “Don’t give me that. I told you exactly what I was going to do.”
Jarrad grumbled, but his smile kept my pulse firmly locked. He swung around to face me. “Tell her, Hawk.”
“What?” I resisted the grin as the two of them bantered.
This was what I’d wanted.
She needed a friend, someone who would never in a million years even consider trying to get into her panties and could put up with her snark.
Jarrad rolled his eyes and fluttered a hand toward Callie. “Tell her that stopping to let a deer cross the road is more dangerous than hoping it gets out of the way.”
“Depends on the situation,” Callie and I answered at the same time.
“Ha.” She pointed at Jarrad. “See. I’m right.”
