Stealing the Biker's Heart (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter, #2) Read online

  He stood and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, which sent my nether regions into a tailspin, but that didn’t last long either as we took our seats. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I breathed out. “I could not get Miss Opal to stop talking.”

  “It’s all good, babe. ’Preciate the text lettin’ me know.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, why?” he asked.

  “You looked a little pissed... I hope it’s not at me.”

  He smiled then, a gentle one that melted me. (Oh, alright, all his smiles melted me).

  “Not you, Firefly.”

  He didn’t elaborate, so I didn’t pepper him with questions. If there was one thing I’d learned early on (because of Willow’s experiences with Dash), it was that if they didn’t offer information, you didn’t ask. Club business was sacrosanct, and wasn’t shared outside of the brotherhood. Ever.

  “Did you order?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Waitin’ on you.”

  I opened the menu and scanned the pages just as the server arrived to take our orders.

  “Do you know what you’re getting?” I asked him.

  “Burger, rare, no onions,” he said to the server.

  “That sounds perfect.” I closed the menu. “I’ll get that as well. Medium, no lettuce or onions, please.”

  “Cheese?” she asked.

  “Cheddar,” we said in unison.

  As the server took our menus and left us, I checked my phone, then turned it off and dropped it into my purse. I wanted to be fully present with this unicorn and I didn’t want the buzzing of my phone to spook him.

  “Dash says you’re a mechanic,” I said.

  “I am.” He leaned forward slightly with his forearms on the table. “Own my own shop, but I also help my buddy out on occasion when he needs it.”

  “Is that why you’re over this way?”

  He nodded. “Dalton owns the BMW and Cadillac stores downtown. He’s out a shop manager for the moment, so I come in, when I can, to run it. It’s temporary.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  He chuckled. “Not really. He pays me a shit ton of money to do it.”

  I cocked my head. “Doesn’t mean it’s still not nice of you. You could say no.”

  “I guess that’s true,” he said. “You’re right, Firefly. I’m Mother fuckin’ Teresa.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, Saint Alamo, let’s slow your roll.”

  “Fuck me, you’re funny, Jasmine.”

  “So are you.”

  He smiled. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but funny isn’t one of them.”

  Lunch arrived, and our conversation was cut off, so I took a minute to prep my burger.

  “You always been into cuttin’ hair?” Alamo asked, then bit into his burger.

  I nodded. “I was styling my Barbies’ hair even as a little girl.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.” I chuckled. “My dad’s a doctor, as are my siblings, and Mom’s a teacher, so I’m their classic underachiever.”

  “You’re not a fuckin’ underachiever, Firefly,” he ground out.

  “I’m kidding,” I rushed to say.

  “Kidding because you don’t wanna throw someone under that bus who made you feel that way? Or...?”

  “Because I’m kidding,” I said. “Honestly, my family’s awesome. It’s me that sometimes feels like I should do more.”

  I couldn’t believe I told him that. I wasn’t shy, but I didn’t typically offer up feelings of insecurity to people I was interested in...at least, not for a while.

  “Do you love what you do?”

  “So, so much,” I breathed out.

  “You moochin’ off anyone?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then, you’re ahead of the curve, baby. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, tell you otherwise.”

  Heat crept up my neck. “Stop being sweet, Mo.”

  “Now, I can absolutely confirm nobody’s ever called me sweet, Firefly.”

  I took a bite of my burger so I wouldn’t say anything stupid like, “Ohmigod, Alamo, can we go back to my place and get naked? Oh, and can I lick you? Everywhere?”

  We spent a few minutes in silence as we ate, and my thoughts spiraled deeper into the gutter. God, what the hell was my problem? He simply looked at me and I was salivating like Pavlov’s dog. I needed to get ahold of my adoration of this man. It was too much. I’d certainly been attracted to plenty of men, but had never experienced urges like this.

  Alamo’s phone buzzed on the table and he leaned over to look at it, then swore. Wiping his hands on a napkin, he answered it. “Fuck, seriously? Yeah, man, I’ll be there in fifteen.” He put his phone down and pulled out his wallet. “Sorry, Firefly. One of the newbies dropped a fuckin’ car. Gotta go deal with it.”

  “Dropped it? Like off the lift?”

  He nodded, dropping a fifty on the table. “Fuckin’ moron.”

  “Ohmigod, that’s bad,” I said as I rose to my feet and donned my outerwear.

  “Tell me about it.” He dragged on his leather jacket and shoved his wallet back in his pocket.

  The server arrived with a smile. “I’ll get your change.”

  “Keep it, babe,” Alamo said, and wrapped an arm around my waist.

  I felt myself leaning into his touch and craving more as he guided me out of the restaurant.

  It was pouring, but Alamo still walked me all the way to my car. I had my purse over my head, because I had not come prepared with an umbrella, but he had nothing. “You’re not on your bike, are you?” I asked, my voice sounding a little more concerned than I intended.

  “No, babe. Got my Scout.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Old SUV.”

  “Oh, okay.” I relaxed. The thought of him being on a bike in this weather scared the shit out of me. I licked my lips, partly because rain was hitting them, and partly because I desperately wanted him to kiss me. “Thanks for lunch.”

  He ran a finger down my cheek. “Get out of the weather, Firefly. I’ll text you later.”

  “Okey doke,” I grumbled, then climbed into my car.

  Alamo waited for me to pull out of the parking spot, giving me a chin lift as I smiled at him, then he turned and jogged away from me.

  Damn it!

  I was so longing to taste his mouth.

  Alamo

  “Now!” I bellowed, and four mechanics, along with three sales guys, pushed the BMW back onto its wheels. I walked around the car and was surprised there was next to no major damage. A few dents and scrapes that would come out of Dalton’s bottom line, but that was about it.

  I was left to deal with this shit since Dalton was currently in Scotland doin’ somethin’ for his brother-in-law, but luckily, he’d given me full autonomy. “I want this car lookin’ like new by the end of the week. I’ll call the owner and sort this shit out, but, Andy, no more usin’ the lift. You need more trainin’.”

  “Sorry, man,” Andy said.

  He was a good kid, just turned eighteen, and in school. He felt like shit, so I forwent bustin’ his balls, but it was a good learnin’ opportunity for Javier, the current shop assistant manager. These boys needed to be watched.

  Which meant I needed to watch them too.

  Apparently, I couldn’t take time out to have lunch with the sexiest fuckin’ woman alive, or a fuckin’ car’d fall off a fuckin’ lift.

  I headed back to the service office and called the client, surprised he wasn’t a dick, then put a call in to my shop manager to find there was no drama.

  Fuck, finally.

  The past year had been a steamin’ pile of shit, and I was over it. We’d stopped the fuckers who were messin’ with the club, but Sparky’s woman had been hurt in the process. I’d purposely kept myself away from Jasmine because I didn’t want her on anyone’s radar, but now the threat of harm was gone, and I was no longer interested in being separated fro
m her. She was gorgeous and sweet, not to mention funny, and I planned to explore her further.

  “Alamo!” Javier bellowed.

  “What?” I yelled back.

  “Need you to check somethin’.”

  No longer able to obsess about the beautiful Jasmine, I rose to my feet and headed back into the shop.

  * * *

  Jasmine

  “Hey, Willow,” I said into my phone as I closed up the salon.

  “Hello, best friend in all the world... and the universe.”

  “Oh, no. What do you want?” I asked.

  “Impromptu pig roast tomorrow night at the compound. Will you come?”

  “I’m giving Kelly’s kids a swim lesson in the morning and then I have a date with a bottle of wine and my bath tub.”

  Kelly was my brother’s wife. She and Jared were nearing forty and had five kids. I shuddered at the thought of more than two, but they were awesome parents and now that their oldest was thirteen and their youngest was four, they had avowed they were done. I had become the go-to swim instructor for all my nieces and nephews, mainly because my parents had a pool and I had been on the swim team in high-school, which made me an expert in their eyes.

  “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. They will cancel.”

  I giggled. “Shows how psychic you are, we’re not doing it at my parents’ pool, we’re heading to the Y.”

  “Oh, well, that’s smart.”

  “I know it is.”

  “Well, whatever. After the lesson, skip the tub and wine, and come with us instead. You’ll get wine at the club. Dash is finally out of the hospital and it’s his celebratory party. He wants you there.”

  Dash had been in a pretty bad motorcycle accident and had required surgery to reset his leg, so he’d only been out of the hospital for a few weeks and was moving pretty slow. Physical therapy was a bitch, but he was apparently healing quicker than expected.

  “He wants me there, or you do and you’re namedropping because you know I love your man?” I asked.

  “Uh... dang it, I can’t lie.” Willow wasn’t exaggerating. I’d long suspected it was physically impossible for her to utter an untruth. “I’m totally using Dash’s name as leverage, but it’s not like he wouldn’t want you there, it’s just that we haven’t even talked about it yet. But you’re family, ergo, you’re wanted.”

  “I—”

  “Alamo will be there,” she said.

  “Low blow, Willow.”

  “I don’t know why you’re so squirrely about him now... you had a great lunch with him, right?”

  “Yes, but he hasn’t called or texted since and it’s been forever... plus, I have a date with Thomas on Sunday night, so I feel like I need to focus on him. He’s texted me twice since we made the date, and I have a feeling he’ll text me right after as well.”

  “Well, that sucks,” she commiserated. “But that doesn’t mean Alamo’s not totally in love with you.”

  I giggle-snorted. “You are ridiculous.”

  I heard the smile in her voice as she said, “Maybe so, but I don’t think I’m wrong.”

  “Look. Your biker is sweet and devoted, and worships the ground you walk on. I don’t ever see Alamo doing that for any woman, so I feel like I need to move on.”

  “You went out with him once!” she squeaked.

  “And he never called me back.”

  “Okay, I’m not going to argue with you because it’s wasted breath, but I’d love it if you’d come tomorrow night. And, so would Dash.”

  “I’ll let you know tomorrow, sound good?”

  “What if I promise to go skating with you?” Willow added.

  “Wow, you must be serious.”

  Roller skating was a passion, but I found it harder and harder to find anyone to go with me. I’d even looked into joining a roller derby team, but the practice schedule (not to mention the jam calendar) was way too intense for my schedule.

  “Very.”

  I smiled. “I’ll let you know tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yep,” she said. “Okay, I’m going to make my man dinner. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” I said, and hung up.

  I set the alarm and locked up, then headed to my car, raising my head to find a badass, bearded biker leaning against it, his face focused on his phone. I frowned.

  He raised his head and smiled. “Hey, Firefly.”

  “Hi,” I said, arriving at my car and unlocking the door. “What’s up?”

  “Thought I’d see if you wanted to have dinner... with me, to be clear.”

  I studied him for a second. He hadn’t called or texted in four days, I had no idea if the lunch was a total failure on my part, but now he’s stalking me at my place of work expecting me to drop everything and go out with him? Oh, hell no.

  “I have plans.” I pulled open my door and threw my purse and jacket inside.

  “You pissed about somethin’?”

  “Why would I be ‘pissed about something’?”

  “Firefly, you gonna look at me?”

  I met his eyes and leaned against my car, but I didn’t like the way he was staring at me. Like he could see into my soul.

  He sighed. “I shoulda called.”

  “Yeah, you shoulda, and I should really get going. I have plans tonight.” I said, standing up straight again.

  “Babe, do you really have plans, or are you sayin’ that ’cause I was an insensitive ass?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah. It kinda does.”

  “The latter,” I said after a few tense seconds, not prepared for the words ‘insensitive ass’ to cross my lips. In relation to him, anyway.

  He smiled. “’Preciate you bein’ honest with me.”

  “Okay, great. I’m gonna head out now.”

  “Jasmine,” he said, low and lethal.

  Well, only lethal to my vagina, honestly, but... Shit.

  “Alamo, I really do need to get home. Gotta feed my cat.” This wasn’t a lie. Scruffy got violent if he wasn’t fed on time. “And before you ask me if that’s a line, I really do have a cat.”

  He chuckled. “Baby, I know you have a cat. Willow talks about it all the time.”

  “Don’t believe anything she says. He’s not Satan... he’s just misunderstood.” Alamo was still standing against my car, so I was unable to get in without pushing him out of the way, so I was stuck.

  “You gonna make this hard on me?”

  “Make what hard on you?”

  “My apology.”

  “Oh, is that what you were doing?” I challenged. “Because, what I see is a man crowding me and not letting me get in my car to go home and feed my cat.”

  He raised his hands in surrender and stepped away from me. “Okay, Jasmine, I hear ya. Have a good night.”

  “Night,” I said, and slid into my car, taking off for home.

  As I walked into my condo, I threw my keys on the counter and let out a frustrated growl. Did I have “desperate” stamped on my forehead?

  After feeding Scruffy, I grabbed my phone, flopped onto my sofa, and dialed Parker. I couldn’t call Willow... she adored Alamo to a weird degree, so Parker it was.

  “Hey, honeybunches of oats, how are you?” she answered.

  “Ready to commit biker-a-cide.”

  “Uh-oh, what happened?”

  I filled her in on the car scenario, because we’d just talked this morning for the umpteenth time, so she was aware of the rest, and when she said nothing, I got a little nervous... then I got irritated. “Park.”

  “Okay...”

  “Nope. No. Niet. Non. If the next words out of your mouth aren’t, ‘Ohmigod, Jazz, that Alamo fella’s a total dick,’ I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Fella?” Parker laughed. “Ohmigod, Jazz, that Alamo fella’s obviously”— then she rushed out the next bit super fast and loud so I couldn’t interrupt her—“totally enamored with you and can’t figure out what to do.”

  “Suck it, Parke
r.”

  “Look, you’ve mooned over this guy for a while now, and he’s showing interest. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Parker, I love you, and I get that you’re nicer than me, but I’m a strong woman. I’m an outspoken woman. I am the type of woman that other people call a bitch when I speak my mind, or simply because I get shit done. I want a man who honors that. I want a man who also cherishes that. I need a man who is as strong in his maleness as I am in my femaleness, and I will not accept anything less than total respect and devotion. So, when you go out to lunch with me and you say you’ll text me, and you don’t, then that makes you a liar, and I have no fucking time for liars.”

  “Or he could have simply gotten busy.”

  “Then don’t fucking show up at my place of work on a Friday night assuming I have no life and I’m going home to pine for your ass!” I snapped. “If a man wants me, he’s going to work for me. In a reasonable way, but he’s going to have to show me that he thinks I’m worth it, or I’m out.”

  “Okay, honey, I hear you. He totally screwed up.” I took a few deep breaths without comment and Parker added, “Do you feel better?”

  “Much. It’s why I called you.”

  She burst into over the top belly laughs, and I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to laugh with her or smack her.

  “Ohmigod, Jazz, you are absolutely my most favorite human being on the planet,” she stuttered out between her guffawing. “If Alamo doesn’t figure out his shit soon, he’s a moron.”

  “That is the correct thing to say, best friend.” I smiled. “I approve.”

  “Are you still going out with Thomas on Sunday night?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Are you hot for Thomas?” she asked.

  “He’s super cute. I’m not not hot for him.”

  She sighed. “You sure you want to go down this road?”

  “Which road?”

  I played dumb. I knew exactly which road she was referring to, but I wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud.

  “Thomas Ellis is old money. He’s loaded, like as in, his grandchildren aren’t going to be able to run through the kind of money he will inherit. Like Scrooge McDuck swimming through coins rich. He’s also entitled. You hate entitled. It’s why you dumped Adam after three weeks. And what did you ask me when you did that?”