Snort. Rev would probably think she bashed her head on a corner of a raised car lift.
“You supposed to be touchin’ her like that?” Dutch shouted. “I don’t get to touch her, you fuckin’ don’t get to touch her.”
The door slammed shut.
Rev chuckled, which was nice to see.
Reilly snorted out loud this time. “Like I’d let him touch me.”
Rev released her and stood up, stepping from between the bench and the table. He offered his hand to help her step over the bench, too.
“Never know. The man’s got snatch droppin’ at his feet left and right. Must be a reason for it.”
“And you don’t?” The sweet butts and the hang-arounds practically got into fistfights over him some nights.
Reilly would like to know what they were fighting over.
“I do all right.” He grinned and his blue eyes held a sparkle.
She rolled her own.
He went to pull away but Reilly tugged on the hand she refused to let go. He turned back to her with his eyebrows pinned together.
“Hey, I know you guys aren’t big into talking, but if you need to, I’m here. Just putting that out there into the universe.”
He tilted his head as he stared at her. “The universe heard it and appreciates it. Now, get inside before the old man fires your sweet ass.” With that, he smacked her ass so hard, she jumped and squealed.
But damn…
What she wouldn’t do for a little more of that…
To hell with “a little.” She’d take a whole hell of a lot more.
Chapter Three
Reilly chewed on her thumbnail as she perched on Rev’s bike where it sat in the long storage shed in which they parked their sleds. She’d hidden her car behind The Grove Inn and had Ozzy drop her off early this morning.
She loved The Great Oz. He was the best. And he proved that once again when he peeled himself out of bed and away from a sleeping Lizzy just to do Reilly that favor. No questions asked.
She didn’t have to give him any excuses on why she needed a ride to the farm that early. Unlike most of the guys, he really didn’t give a fuck what she was doing or why. His reasoning was: if you don’t ask someone’s business, they won’t ask you about yours.
Simple.
He’d always gone out of his way for her during the many months she lived at the motel. In exchange, she’d help him out in the office when needed. While it was great having her own apartment now, she missed being around him since he’d become like an older brother to her.
Now here she was… waiting. In the dark shed.
Nervous.
Because she knew she’d get a rash of shit from Rev for being there. But she had donned her invisible armor and was ready for whatever he would dish out. She’d also gone over and over in her head what she’d say to him and how she’d get him to see reason.
He never answered her yesterday about when he was making his trek to Coatesville, but she’d overheard—okay, purposely listened in—him talking to Dutch about it.
Dutch grumped a whole lot but reluctantly let him take the days off. Rev, not knowing when his father was going to “peacefully depart”—Reilly almost choked when she heard that description—left the date open for his return to work. She’d also kind of eavesdropped on his conversation with Trip just to confirm Rev wasn’t leaving until this morning and not late last night.
Before Ozzy rode away earlier, she made sure Rev’s sled was still inside the shed. She was relieved when it was. She didn’t expect him to leave at the crack of dawn, so that was when she had Ozzy drop her off. Just to make sure she caught Rev before he left.
She promised the older biker lots of coffee and fresh pastries from Coffee and Cream when she returned. He only grunted in response and rode away, the deep rumble of his sled deafening in the quiet pre-dawn, mid-April morning air.
She’d hidden in the back corner of the shed behind some boxes while everyone but Rev had stumbled in, got their bikes and left for work. She wanted to avoid all the questions that would be asked—and didn’t want to answer—if she was spotted.
So, one by one, sleepy bikers rolled in and rolled out. Not surprising, not one of them was a bright and chipper morning person.
One hour, eighteen minutes and thirty-four damn seconds after she arrived was when the door finally opened once more. She hoped like hell it was Rev and no one else this time because she was done hiding.
If it wasn’t him, she was heading over to the bunkhouse and dragging him out by his hair. She couldn’t imagine anyone was left in there except for Rev and maybe a couple of the prospects. But it was the risk of being seen by those prospects that made her stay put instead.
Some of the tension drained from her as she recognized his very familiar silhouette coming through the open doorway. As he hit the automatic door opener on the wall to lift the double garage door in front of his sled, she yelled out, “Don’t open that!”
His whole body jerked, his hand automatically went to where he kept a knife on his hip and his head twisted toward her. “What the fuck?” he grumbled. “What the fuck you doin’ in here?”
He didn’t sound or look happy to see her. No surprise.
“Close the door before anyone sees me.”
“I saw you.”
“Not you, doofus,” she clarified. “Anyone else.”
He slammed his palm on the garage door button and the door grumbled its way closed again. “Why the fuck are you hidin’ in here?”
All the overhead LED lights in the shed turned on when he hit that switch next. She squinted and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the blast of the cornea-burning brightness.
“I’m not hiding,” she said with feigned innocence.
He glanced at her from where he stood and simply cocked an eyebrow.
She shot him a whatever face. “Just hear me out.”
“Reilly,” he growled.
“Just hear me out,” she shouted, “before you go all alpha asshole on me and start beating on your chest and stomping your boots.” Ever since she heard Teddy call the Fury members “leather-clad gorillas” it was hard to get that similarity out of her mind. It actually fit them perfectly.
“You shouldn’t fuckin’ be here.”
“And you shouldn’t go alone,” she countered.
His expression turned hard. “What the fuck, Reilly!”
She sighed and weaved around the few sleds left in the shed to approach him, since, apparently, he was frozen in place.
When she got there, she tipped her face up to his and said, “You’re not taking your sled.”
His eyebrows shot so high up his forehead, she couldn’t tell where they ended and his hairline began. “Wanna clue me in on when I started takin’ orders from you?”
“It’s not an order, it’s a… strongly worded suggestion.”
“All right, then. That’s much better,” he said way too agreeably. He stared at her for a few seconds, then bellowed, “Who the fuck d’you think you are?”
She winced. “Someone—”
“I musta drank way too much whiskey and smoked way too much Kush since I certainly don’t fuckin’ remember claimin’ a woman at the table last night.”