Her eyes widened and a small gasp escaped her beautiful lips. Then, she narrowed her eyes at me—a gesture I was beginning to get used to—and snapped, “Don’t tell me what I need.”
I loosened my grip on her hair and kissed her softly and quickly on her lips, then whispered against them, “Then let me show you.”
“So fuckin’ ridiculous,” I said, punching the steering wheel of her little blue sports car. I’d left my bike at the grocery store, as she’d refused to get on it, and we were on our way to my place in her car. Except I must have been a little too anxious to get there as I was allegedly doing 90 in a 60.
I glanced over at her and she was grinning triumphantly at me. “That ticket’s gonna cost you out the ass, lead-foot.”
I was about to reply when the cop walked up to the window.
“Mr. Craig, do you realize you have an active warrant?” the Texas State Trooper asked, handing me back my license and Emory’s registration and proof of insurance.
I sighed when he also handed me a clipboard to sign for the ticket that was going to cost me $460 and two points on my license. I scribbled my signature and handed him back the clipboard. He gave me a copy of the ticket, and I replied, “Yes I realize I have a warrant but it’s not an arrest warrant. I’m due in court next Thursday. Don’t understand the reason for the warrant to begin with when I haven’t even been a no-show.”
“You had an arrestable warrant about thirteen years ago when you were a no-show. That’s why. Do it once, you’ll always have a warrant when you’re due in court.”
I sighed again, muttering, “I was eighteen, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even know I had a court date.”
He ignored my profanity and said, tipping his tan cowboy hat at Emory, “Ma’am.” He looked at me. “Have a good evening.”
I put my head down and blew out a breath. Obviously, the mood was beyond over, so I looked over at the beautiful redhead and suggested, “Breakfast for dinner?”
She grinned back. “Absolutely. Plus, you have some ’splainin’ to do.”
I put the car in drive and checked behind me to make sure no one else was on the highway and hit the gas. “I suppose I do.”
We drove in silence until we reached a popular chain diner and went inside. It was pretty crowded for a Friday night.
After we were seated and brought coffee and menus, Emory sat there staring at me.
I glanced up from my menu and asked, “What?”
She chewed her lip briefly before answering, “This is so weird.”
I looked around the place then back to her. “It’s a diner. Order some food.”
She shook her head, reached over, and snatched her elastic from around my wrist. As she twisted her hair into some kind of mess on the top of her head, which actually looked sexy as hell, she said, “No, this.” She pointed to me, then herself. “What are we doing?”
I lifted an eyebrow at her. “Eating breakfast for dinner. Or, I mean, they have burgers and shit here, too, if that’s more your style.”
“Boy, you are seriously thick, aren’t you?” She shook her head and looked down at her menu.
No, I wasn’t thick. Well, yeah sometimes I could be kind of a mouth-breather, but I just loved fucking with her. Plus, I was stalling in having to explain my warrant. I’d briefly considered telling her it was none of her business.
I decided on good ol’ eggs, bacon, and toast and set my menu down. I stared at her. “I know it’s weird. But I like you.”
She slowly peered at me over the top of the plastic laminated menu and arched her own eyebrow at me. Then, her face disappeared behind the menu again.
I bit back a smile. Damn, she was cute as hell. And sexy. And feisty. Fuckin’ perfect.
The server came by and took our orders, then the menus.
After she walked off, I asked Emory, “What are you going to hide behind now?”
She tried not to smile and lifted her chin. “I wasn’t hiding. I was deciding on what to eat.”
I chuckled. “Okay. So tell me what’s weird.” I had to hear it from her.
“It’s just that… we just met, I know nothing about you, except you’re in a biker ga—uh, club, and that you have a criminal history. Oh, and that your name is Holden Craig.”
“I never told you my last name,” I deadpanned.
“It was on the credit card you tried to pay with the other night for Ray.”
I cleared my throat. “Oh. Observant and pretty. I like that.”
“I needed to make sure I had a full name to give to the police in case you tried to do something to me.” I could tell by the mischievous glint in her eye that she was messing with me, so I decided to play along.
“And what, exactly, did you think I was going to do to you?”
She lifted a shoulder and let it fall, then looked down at her coffee mug. I watched as she traced a pale finger around its rim. She had no polish or anything fancy on her short fingernails. “Again, I thought you were some scary biker. I always like to cover my ass.”
“I’d like to cover your ass with my hand,” I quipped back, staring right into her eyes.
A beautiful pink blush tinted the freckles on her pale cheeks, and it was then I noticed she didn’t have one ounce of makeup on. She was as pretty without it as she was with it.
When she didn’t respond, I inquired, “So you don’t think I’m some scary biker anymore?”
“Nope. You’re just scary period.”
I couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing, but
