“Sure thing, babe,” I said, swinging a leg over the bench to straddle it. She backed away slowly but steadily as Pic and Max joined me.
“How about a drink, girl?” Picnic asked. She nodded and turned toward the trailer, ass twitching as she walked away. Nice view. Max gave a dirty laugh, clearly enjoying the show, and I had to restrain myself from hitting the man.
Asshole should leave my girl alone.
My girl? What the fuck? I didn’t have girls. I fucked them and moved on, because life was too damned short to deal with their bullshit. Sure, I was considering leaving with her on the back of my bike, but it wasn’t like I’d be keeping her. I just wanted enough time to fuck her out of my system. Where had that thought come from?
“Where do you think Jensen found a bitch like that?” Max asked, and while I’d considered the same question earlier, I didn’t like hearing Max call her a bitch. In fact, I didn’t want Max calling her anything. I’d never been Max’s biggest fan.
“Small town girls,” Picnic said. “Not exactly a lot of options. Still, she’s too pretty to be scraping bottom. You think he’s in there pissing his pants while he hides under the bed?”
I glanced over to the trailer and caught a hint of movement at the window. She peeked through the curtains at me, cell against her ear, looking small and vulnerable. That vulnerability called to me and I licked my lips.
“No, she’s making a phone call,” I said. “He’s not here. I wonder if he’ll make a run for it?”
“You think he’d leave her to us?” Max asked, sounding a little too eager. “Hot piece like that should be on her back. Lookin’ forward to that.”
“Shut it down,” Pic said sharply. “She’s with Horse now.”
“I want her when you’re done,” Max said, looking at me.
“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped, and Max laughed.
“Cockblocker.”
“Seriously, Max, shut the fuck up,” Picnic replied, his voice like ice.
Silence fell over the table. Then the door to the trailer opened and the woman came out. She held a tall, purple plastic cup in one hand, a smaller cup with a spoon in it in the other, and two more purple cups held against her chest with her arm. She’d changed into a faded T-shirt that had to be at least an extra-large and a pair of those half pants chicks like, the ones that go below the knee. Fuckin’ shame, because those curves shouldn’t be covered. On the other hand, anything that kept Max’s eyes off her was probably a good thing.
“You call your man?” I asked. For reasons I didn’t care to examine, figuring out her relationship with Jeff-hole had turned into a high priority.
“My man?” she asked, looking confused.
“Jensen.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, thoughts passing behind her eyes too fast for me to read.
“Girlie, answer the fuckin’ question,” Picnic commanded, voice like a whip. She jumped, splashing whatever was in the cup across her breast. Her nipple beaded up from the cold and I forgot to breathe. I shifted on the bench, rethinking my decision to wait.
“Jeff’s coming,” she said. I could just lean forward and catch that nipple in my mouth . . . Back off. She was terrified, scaring her more wouldn’t move things any faster. I knew how it would end, with her spread under me, screaming when she came. But how long it took to get her there? Lotta ways that could play out. “He said he’d be here in twenty minutes. I’ve got tea for you.”
She stood in front of me, taunting me as she licked her lips nervously. I reached out and took one of the cups. She used the newly free hand to take the smaller cup and glanced toward the table. I smiled. She’d have to lean right across me to set it down. I decided to help her out, reaching over and wrapping my fingers around one of the two cups still clutched against her chest. My fingers grazed her nipple once, twice, and then I took the last cup—the small one, which was full of sugar—and set it on the table.
Our eyes stayed locked as I grasped her hand and pulled her into me, up against my thigh so her stomach almost touched my face. I could smell her, and it took everything I had not to nuzzle her belly. But I needed to know her relationship with Jensen, figure out who had marked her. So instead of pulling her against my mouth, I took her chin and turned it, exposing the bruise fully. I waited for her to say something, but she kept her mouth shut.
Interesting. Was she covering for Jeff?
I dropped my hand back down to her waist, rubbing it up and down the curve of her hip. Those curves were fuckin’ perfect, but the way she trembled went straight to my gut. I thought about Jensen, thought about that little fuck touching her soft skin, sucking on those lips . . .
Smacking that pretty face.
Nope, this shit wouldn’t stand. Not today.
“Jensen do that to you?”
Her eyes widened and her face flushed.
“No, he’d never do that. Jeff’s my brother,” she said, jerking free. She turned and ran into the trailer, slamming the door behind her.
“Well, that was interesting,” Picnic said. Max chuckled.
I glared at them, then something caught my eye. At the end of the table was a tray with a kitchen towel over it. Two long round lumps lay under it. I leaned over and picked up the towel to find two loaves of unbaked bread rising.
Fuck.
Not only was my girl hot as hell, she could cook, too.
Jensen showed up not long afterward, full of excuses and bullshit.
“Hey, guys, great to see you!” he called as he slammed his car door shut. “I’ll bet you’re here because of that botched transfer. No worries, Horse, I got it fixed. You can check it on my laptop. I just ran the numbers wrong the first time. No problem.”
I stood, crossing my arms as I stared him down.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I lost it,” Jeff replied, rubbing his hands against his pants nervously as he glanced between the three Reapers. “But I found it again. See?”
He pulled it out of his pocket and showed us. I looked to Picnic, who sighed.
“We’re gonna lay this out for you, okay?” the club president said. “You fucked up big-time. I don’t know if you stole the money and paid it back or if you’re just stupid. Either way, it can’t happen again. I’m about ready to pull the plug on this little operation, which means pulling the plug on you, stoner boy.”
I grunted, seconding his words. Jeff’s eyes jerked between us, then settled as he smiled at me again, like we were friends. Fucker had a serious case of reality disconnect.
“No problem,” he said. “Let’s go inside, I’ll show you the figures. Pull ’em up for you, see for yourself. Marie will make dinner, she’s a fuckin’ great cook. You’ll love it.”
So her name was Marie. I liked that—it fit her. Sort of old-fashioned but sexy at the same time. I almost smiled, but caught myself. I had a part to play in this little show, and it didn’t include looking friendly.
“Let’s take a look,” I said to Picnic. “Figure it out tonight, save us having to drive back down here to kill him if he’s lying.”
“Works for me,” Pic replied. “I’m hungry. Hey, Jensen—shooting assholes gives me heartburn. Don’t fuck this up, ’kay?”
Jeff’s face faltered, but he laughed nervously and chattered as he led us into the trailer. Me and Picnic exchanged a knowing look behind his back. I hoped to hell I wouldn’t have to kick the shit out of our helpful little hacker. Beating down her brother probably wouldn’t be the smoothest way to get into Marie’s pants.
The trailer smelled like heaven.
Marinara bubbled on the stove, and while the little window air-conditioning units kept the place cool, the oven sent out homey warmth. Marie stood in the open kitchen, frowning at us as we walked in.