Page 16 of Wade’s Wrath

“Been told that before,” he said. She shook her head, but the pressure inside her chest eased just a little. Wade moved toward the chair near the dresser and sat. “You don't have to figure everything out tonight.”

“It's technically morning,” she reminded.

“Smartass,” he grumbled. She smiled as silence settled between them. Harlow couldn't remember the last time she'd sat quietly with a man without wondering what he expected from her. Frank always expected something. Her father expected everything. But Wade seemed content simply to sit there.

She studied him. “You really own the bar?”

“Yep,” he said.

“How long?” she asked.

“About eight years,” he admitted.

“And the Savage Bastards meet there?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” he said.

“Is it your clubhouse?” she asked.

“No. It was at first, but now the clubhouse is outside town,” he said.

“So why do all those bikers hang around your place?” she asked.

“Cheap beer and food,” he teased.

She raised an eyebrow. “That's it?” she asked.

“And I'm charming,” he said, bobbing his eyebrows at her. Harlow snorted and Wade grinned. There it was again—that smile. She was beginning to like it too much.

“Are you part of the club?” she asked.

“Yeah.” She'd noticed his cut hanging over a chair at the bar earlier.

“What do you do for the club?” she asked. Harlow didn’t know much about biker clubs, other than they all seemed to have a role to fill once they were a member.

“I drink beer, ride motorcycles, and make questionable decisions,” he joked.

“Very informative,” she drawled.

“You ask a lot of questions,” he said.

“I like knowing who I'm sleeping with.” Wade's eyes darkened, and Harlow's brain caught up with her mouth. “Under the same roof,” she corrected quickly. “I meant sleeping under the same roof with.”

“Sure you did,” he teased.

Heat crawled up her neck, and he chuckled. God, she needed to stop noticing how attractive he was. She cleared her throat. “What's Butcher like?”

Wade's amusement faded slightly. “He’s a good Prez.”

“That's not what I asked,” she insisted.

“That's what you get for now,” he said.

“Do all bikers answer questions without actually answering them?” she asked.

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Well, that’s annoying,” she mumbled.