“Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t open the store without me!” I say, skipping down the aisle toward the door. I run my fingers over the spines of the books as I go.
“Like I’d want to!” he shouts after me.
I give him a parting smile and unlock the golden knob, then turn the handle. The door chimes when I push against the antique wood with my hip. I lock it behind me, so a customer doesn’t come in before we’re open and shiver when the cold air smacks me in the face.
“And this is why I live in the freaking desert because I can’t stand the cold weather,” I mumble to myself, tightening my cardigan around my waist before I brave the first step onto the sidewalk. I’d hate living in the snow. I hate being cold. It’s why I always have a cardigan on or a blanket draped around my waist.
The loud rumble of motorcycles fills the air and that has me stepping out onto the sidewalk. The bottoms of my feet tingle from the reverberations traveling through the ground. I hold my breath when I see three bikes pulling up next to the coffee cart I’m about to walk toward. They are wearing the same cuts as the man I met in the bookstore a few weeks ago. Maybe they would give him his change if I gave it to them?
Everyone at the coffee cart line starts to disperse, running away scared from the big bad bikers, but not me. I’m intrigued, and maybe they can lead me to the man who’s been invading my thoughts lately more than books have.
Which never happens.
I’m pretty one-track minded. Books. Books. Books. That’s me. I don’t have boyfriends. I don’t date. I don’t go out. I don’t party. I’m a homebody.
And I’ve been wishing he would walk through the door again. I want to hear his voice. It was different, unlike anything I’ve ever heard. I want to listen to him read me a book until I fall asleep. His voice was deep and raspy, like speaking isn’t something he likes to do.
With a smile on my face, I scurry toward the coffee cart. I look both ways before crossing the street and run to the other side. There’s a candy store called Paula’s, and the old woman is cleaning the windows, keeping her eyes on the bikers at the coffee cart. So many people judge a book by its cover without trying to see what it’s about.
I bet they aren’t that bad. Everyone is so dramatic.
I pass a hardware store and wave to Jerry through the window. He gives me a toothless grin, then scowls when he realizes what he just did. He’s grumpy, but I think he tries to be. On the inside, he’s a teddy bear.
A wall of fresh coffee hits my nose, and I straighten my back and perk up. I get in line behind the bikers, and now that I’m closer and see how big they are, my courage dissipates.
I swallow, suddenly wondering if the coffee was a good idea. Why am I so impulsive sometimes? I don’t think. I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and look at the massive back in front of me again.
Holy Moly.
I’m way out of my comfort zone here.
There’s a skull wearing a crown with hollow eyes and smirking at me like it’s about to eat me. ‘Ruthless Kings MC Las Vegas’ is written around the skull. The only thing I can think about is the ‘Vegas’ part. That means there is more than one.
Oh man, that means all the big bad bikers could come after me and kill me if I don’t give this money back.
I’m screwed.
I jump when my cell phone rings and leather creaks. I feel eyes on me, and when I look up, the bikers are staring at me.
“You going to answer that, blue-eyes?” the one in the middle asks. He’s good-looking, but he isn’t like the other guy who came into the bookstore.
“Leave her alone, Slingshot.” The one in front slaps the man named Slingshot in the chest. It’s an interesting name, maybe a road name? Isn’t that what bikers have? I need to reread my books if I’m forgetting. It’s their fault. I can’t think straight with all of their eyes on me.
“What? She has blue eyes, and what if it’s an important call? I’m trying to help, Prez.”
“Yer being a pain in the ass. If she wants to ignore it, she can. Don’t ye worry. I got ye back,” a redheaded man wearing a kilt says, giving me a wink.
Oh, wow.
He really knows how to wink.
My cheeks heat, and I take that moment to look down and open my purse. Getting coffee wasn’t a good idea. I had no idea they would all be so good looking. It really isn’t fair for us women. We don’t stand a chance when men like this are walking around, all tattooed and in leather.
My palm wraps around my phone, and honestly, I’m thankful I changed my ringtone from my favorite 90’s song. How is that the only thing I can think about right now?
“Hello?” my voice cracks, and I lay my hand against my throat, clearing it. “Hello?” I try again, and Slingshot gives me a flirtatious grin.
“Hey, sweetie.” Aunt Tina’s voice is louder than usual, and that’s when I realize I’ve put her on speaker by clicking the button with my cheek.
The guys chuckle, and I close my eyes in humiliation. “Hi, Aunt Tina. What’s up?”
“I was wondering on your way home if you could stop by the grocery store? We need a few things.”
I give the bikers my back and lower my voice. “Aunt Tina, now isn’t the best time. I’m … I’m getting coffee.”
“I miss you, blue-eyes! Come back to me!” Slingshot yells from behind. Great. Bikers are picking on me.
“What is that? Where are you?”
I turn around and narrow my eyes at the untamed biker in the middle. “I thought I was in the line to get coffee, but apparently, I’m at the zoo.”
Slingshot’s smile vanishes in an instant, and the other two men roar in laughter.
“Aye, she got ye, lad. Oh, she’s funny. This trip for coffee was worth it.” The redhead slaps his stomach and then his demeanor changes when he sees a bagel. “Oh, I need breakfast. I’ll take three of those bagels, please, and vanilla bean Frappuccino,” he gives his orders to Walter, the coffee cart guy.
“I’ll call you back, Aunt Tina. Love you.” I hang up the phone and slide it into my purse. “I actually have a question for you guys.” I want to forget the annoyance of being called blue eyes and remember the man who gave me forty bucks. I step up and tuck my hair behind my ear. “Walter, I’ll take my regular, and then plain black for Andrew.”
“Andrew your boyfriend?” Slingshot asks.
“He’s my boss. I work at the bookstore.” I roll my eyes, then catch myself, hoping he didn’t see me. What if they plan a hit on me and shoot me in my sleep?
“Wait—” The man who seems to be in charge crosses his arms, and my eyes fall to his chest. He has a patch that says Prez, which is what Slingshot called him. He must be the man in charge of the entire club.
He’s the one who will give the order to kill me.
I sip my coffee and really enjoy it, letting the caramel melt over my tongue like it’s the last time.
“You work at the bookstore? Right there on the corner?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, ‘Page by Page.’ It’s right across the street.” I point to it and then wonder if I should have shown them where I work. I need to stop being paranoid.