Calling the Biker's Bluff (Dogs of Fire MC: Savannah Chapter Book 7) Page 3
“Sure did.”
I almost choked on my coffee. “Where?”
“Babe, relax. I didn’t invade your privacy. Just went where you directed and looked at your pictures in the hallway. I only went into your bedroom because I emptied the litter box in the bathroom.”
“You emptied the litter box?”
“Yeah. Figured you’d want to sleep in a little this morning.”
“Oh. Wow.” My heart swelled. Shit, I didn’t want my heart to swell. I sighed. “Thanks for doing that.”
He smiled, sliding a plate of food over to me. “You’re welcome.”
“What’s your deal?” I asked, picking up my fork.
He leaned across the island and smiled. “You intrigue me.”
“I do?” I took a bite of eggs and bit back a moan of ecstasy. The man could cook.
“Yeah. Is that weird?”
“Ah, yeah, it’s weird, Otter.”
He grinned. “Tell me why it’s weird.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You’re a biker. I’m a neonatal nurse. I’m boring.”
“You came runnin’ when your brother called and kept your cool in a terrifying situation, you slept at a biker compound without argument, and allowed someone you didn’t know to go through your condo and feed your cat.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Now, that just makes me sound like an idiot.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I’m going to chalk it up to being exhausted.”
“Babe, it doesn’t make you sound like an idiot.”
“How do you figure?” I challenged.
He smiled. “Because it was me you were trusting.”
“Hubris is a dangerous thing, Otter.”
He shrugged. “You gonna get to know me?”
“Ah… I don’t know.”
“You seein’ someone?”
I snorted. “Do I look like I have time to ‘see’ someone?”
“Good.” He grabbed a strip of bacon and bit into it.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Yeah it does.”
“What if you don’t intrigue me back?” I asked.
“You let me hang with your cat, baby, I intrigue you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hubris on eleven,” I grumbled.
He laughed. “Fuck me, you’re cute.”
I dropped my eyes. It had been a long time since a man called me cute. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I was pretty, but I was also overweight and tended to focus on that fact every month, and sometimes on Tuesdays.
Okay, it was every other day as well.
“Babe?”
“Hmm?”
“You gonna look at me?” he asked.
“Nope, I’m liking the look of this bacon,” I said, shoving a strip in my mouth.
I heard his low chuckle, but still didn’t look at him.
“Fuckin’ adorable,” he whispered, and I smiled.
At my food.
“You’re still here!” Olivia announced, just as I set my plate in the sink, baby Phoenix on her hip, Chloe on Doc’s who was following.
“Hi,” I said, walking over to her and hugging her, careful not to crush the baby.
“I heard you were a rock star last night,” she said, handing Phoenix to Otter.
“Muscle memory,” I said as Chloe screamed for Otter’s attention, so he switched babies with Doc. Chloe hugged Otter’s giant neck, and I suddenly found myself jealous of a baby.
“I know you probably want to go home and crash, but we’re planning girls’ night on Friday, can you make it?” Olivia asked.
“Actually, yes,” I said. “I’ll be wiped, but I can definitely make it.”
“We’ll take you anyway you show up.” She smiled. “I’ll text you the details.”
“Thanks.”
“Baby, we need to get the twins fed,” Doc said, handing Phoenix back to her, before stepping into a side room and pulling out two highchairs.
“I need to get to the grocery store,” I said. “I’ll see you Friday.”
Olivia hugged me again, then Otter walked me to my car.
Shiloh
THE NEXT DAY, I woke up late and padded around my condo debating on what I needed to do first. I really should go grocery shopping, but I didn’t want to get dressed. Or go outside. I had ended up hanging out at my car for another twenty minutes after Otter walked me out of the club. I was starting to find him intriguing too and that kind of rocked me to my core.
Instead of heading to the store, though, I went home, telling myself I needed to get grocery bags first, but then I walked inside, flopped on the sofa and didn’t get back up until the pizza I’d ordered arrived.
“Meow.”
“I know, buddy, I’m getting you food.”
I should have fed him an hour ago, but I was enjoying my slumber.
“Meow.”
“Don’t judge me,” I bossed. “I was tired.”
He wove his body through my legs while I doled out his food, just as my phone buzzed. Dumping his food into the bowl and setting it on the floor, I checked my messages and bit my lip. My heart fluttered and my stomach clenched as I read the text. I couldn’t believe he was texting me. I swallowed. Good lord, he was way too gorgeous for me. I had to figure out how to shut this down.
Otter: Did you go to the store yesterday?
Me: Maybe.
Otter: That’s a no.
Me: That’s why there’s Dominos.
I saw the dots pop up indicating he was replying, but then they dropped off and I actually felt disappointed. Hell, yes, I needed to shut this down.
“Meow.”
“Don’t you dare start,” I growled. “He’s out of my league.”
A sneeze, then, “Meow.”
“You have no—” The doorbell pealed, and I frowned. “Who the hell is that?”
I padded to the door and checked the peephole.
Holy shit.
“Shiloh, open the door.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to be as quiet as I could.
“I hear you breathing,” Otter called through the door.
“What do you want?” I demanded, trying in vain to fix my hair. I pulled it out of my makeshift messy bun and ran my fingers through it.
“Babe, open up.”
I frowned. “I’m not dressed.”
“Even better.”
I sighed, inching the door open. “Now’s not a good time.”
His biceps rippled as he raised four Publix bags. “I brought groceries.”
“Otter,” I breathed out.
“You got someone in there?”
“What? No.”
“Meow.”
“Sneezles,” I hissed as he shoved his head through the door, then fully escaped. I ripped the door open to retrieve him just as Otter set the bags on the ground and lifted my cat into his arms.
And my fucking cat let him!
“What the—?”
Otter grinned as Sneezles rubbed his head all over his beard. “Your cat’s the shit, baby.”
“My cat is apparently a whore,” I grumbled.
Otter set him gently inside my door and grabbed the bags again. “I stocked you up.”
I had no choice but to stand aside as the giant pushed his way in and walked to my kitchen. I closed my door and followed him. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Did you go to the store yesterday?”
I frowned.
“Cute jammies,” he said, pulling food and beer out of the bags.
I closed my eyes shut, mortified. I wore a pair of fleece kitten pajama bottoms and a V-neck T-shirt with no bra. I crossed my arms and met his eyes. “I’m going to change.”
“Don’t do that on my account,” he said, grinning. “I’m likin’ the view.”
“I’ll be right back,” I rasped, and escaped.
“Did you eat?” he bellowed.
“No,” I called back, and stripped out of my pajamas, dumping them into the hamper.
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Since I didn’t have time to shower, I did a quick clean up, brushed my teeth and slapped on a little blush. After pulling on more appropriate clothing, I ran a brush through my hair and hoped to god it stayed neat.
“Babe, you comin’ out?” Otter called, his voice now closer.
“If I had a choice, it would be no,” I retorted, leaving my bathroom, and pulling open my bedroom door.
“You look cute.” Otter stood in the hallway, his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. “But I liked the jammies better.”
I bit my lip. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.” He pushed off the wall. “Come on, I made breakfast.”
I followed him back to my kitchen and headed for the refrigerator, pulling it open to find it packed with food. “What did you do?”
He just grinned, setting omelets on my peninsula.
“Otter, this is more food than I can eat.”
“Then I guess I’m going to have to help you.”
“Are you saying you bought all of this, so I’ll cook for you?”
He nodded to the plates. “Does it look like I expect you to cook for me?”
“But…?”
“I figured I’d spend some time here so we can get to know each other.”
“There it is.” I sighed, closing the fridge.
“If you don’t want me in your space, say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll leave.”
“The problem is I like you in my space,” I blurted.
He smiled slowly and I realized I’d just made a big, big mistake. “Eat.”
“Otter—”
“Eat, baby, we’ll talk after breakfast.”
I sat up at the island realizing there was no coffee, so I moved to slide off my stool but Otter stopped me. “Coffee,” I said.
“It’s brewing.”
I sat back down and studied him. “What’s your real name?”
“Easton Ottenheimer.”
“I love the name Easton.”
“Thanks. Mama said she thought it was fancy and I was too pretty a baby not to have a fancy name.”
“I guess it is kind of fancy. In a good way.” I smiled. “Are you close to your mom?”
“That’s a story for another day.”
“Okay.” I took a bite of the omelet and held back a moan. Jesus, what this man could do with eggs was orgasmic.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” I retorted, taking another bite of the omelet.
He sighed, setting his fork down. “My dad’s been dead for almost thirty years now. I was six when he decided suicide by cop was his only way out. My mom’s currently suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed three years ago and has been in a home for six months. I try to visit her two or three times a week, but it’s a crapshoot whether or not she’ll know me. My younger brother, Steele, is in Atlanta, so we see him when we see him. We’re close, but not in proximity.”
I blinked back tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“Babe, it’s life. It’s out of my hands, so I just try to deal with it best I can.”
I nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay.
“Your turn,” he said.
I took a deep breath. “Parents are dead. My grandparents raised us until they passed two years ago, probably why Beau flamed out of the police academy.”
“He’s a cop?”
“No, he quit before he graduated. Or got expelled. I’m not sure. He’s very shady about the details. But maybe they figured out how reckless he is and didn’t want the headache.”
“Could be.”
“He used to be different.”
“Different how?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He was really protective. More like you. We were close. I guess we had to be because it was us against the world, but that all changed after he was kicked out of the Academy. He kind of turned inward.” I shook my head. “I don’t really know how to describe it.”
“You don’t need to,” Otter said. “I get it.”
I reached over and squeezed his arm. “I’m really sorry about your mom, Otter.”
He nodded and focused back on his food.
“I’ll make coffee,” I said, now that the pot was full, and stepped around the island. “How do you take it?”
“Cream, no sugar,” he said, seeming to shake off his melancholy.
I made him a cup of coffee, then made myself one and sat back down.
“When do you go back to work?” he asked.
“Tuesday,” I said, taking the last bite of my omelet. “Holy crap, this is good.”
“Yeah, I know,” he retorted. “So, you good with spending the next two days with me?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea.”
He grinned. “You just gotta jump in, baby.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re totally incompatible.” I took our empty plates and rinsed them, loading them in the dishwasher.
“What makes you think that?” he challenged.
“Do you have any idea how much of a snob I am? As my ex-best friend’s new best friend says… I’m boujee as hell.”
“Yeah, well, your ex-best friend’s new best friend sounds like a white trash cunt.”
“Well, there is that,” I agreed. “But I do like nice things—”
“And you don’t think I can give you nice things?”
“Oh my god, stop interrupting me,” I snapped.
“Sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Continue.”
“I’ve lost my train of thought.”
“Why’s she your ex-best friend?”
“Darci had been a nurse on the floor with me until I caught her stealing a vial of fentanyl. Because I was her boss, I was the one who had to fire her, and she didn’t take it well. Blamed me for not doing more to help her. Accusing me of wanting her hours so I could make overtime. She seems to think I’m materialistic. This all came kind of out of left field. I mean, she’s always been passive-aggressive, but she’d been getting nastier and nastier, and I don’t know why.” I took a breath and sighed. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“Can I try?”
I frowned. “I don’t know if I can handle that.”
“You’re beautiful, you’re confident, you don’t take shit off anyone. You’re a big personality, but you’re more of an introvert if you had your choice, and you’ve worked hard to own a piece of the American dream. You’ve had successes others haven’t because you work hard, and you’ve recognized opportunities others wouldn’t because you’re smart. Newsflash, baby, that pisses people off.”
“Oh my god, stop.”
“Am I off-base?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Loh, am I off-base?” he pressed.
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“Smokin’ hot,” he said.
I settled my hand to my flipping stomach. “Stop.”
“Look at me.”
I took a second to compose myself before meeting his eyes.
“The second you took charge of Tuck’s injury, I knew you were a force, Shiloh.” He settled his elbows on the island and smiled. “I learned a while ago not to take things, like meeting a beautiful woman who’s also a force, for granted.”
“We’re worlds apart,” I countered.
“Not really. If you give this a chance, you’ll see.”
“I don’t jump into bed with someone I don’t know, regardless of how gorgeous they are,” I warned.
“We’ve established you think I’m gorgeous. That’s good.”
I rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure you’re well aware of your looks.”
“As I’m sure you are.”
“Otter, don’t—”
“Babe, not gonna get into a pissing match about who’s better looking. Hands-down it’s you, so we can just end this conversation right now,” he said. “As fa
r as sex goes, we’ll take it at your pace. Whatever you want.”
“Well, let’s not say that. What I want is to strip you naked and lick your entire body, but that’s not a good idea, so I’m holding myself back.”
He laughed, sliding out from behind the island and stalking toward me.
“What are you doing?” I demanded as he pinned me against my kitchen counter and leaned so he was nose-to-nose with me.
He smiled slowly. “Gonna give you something to file away in your spank bank.”
“Women don’t have spank banks.”
“Bullshit,” he said, his mouth covering mine.
I slid my hand up his incredibly muscular chest and deepened the kiss, my tongue seeming to find his without much prompting. Lordy, I could melt against him. He made me feel petit and that was saying something.
“Fuck,” he hissed, breaking the kiss and pulling his phone from his pocket. “Sorry, gotta take this.”
“It’s fine,” I said, taking a few deep breaths.
“Easton Ottenheimer,” he answered. “She is? Yeah, I can be there in fifteen minutes. Okay. Great. Thanks.” He slid his phone back in his pocket. “My mom’s asking for me. She’s lucid.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Go.”
He nodded, kissing me one more time, then walking out the door. I locked up behind him and flopped onto the sofa. Sneezles jumped onto my chest and burrowed his head in my neck. “Hi, buddy,” I crooned, stroking his back. “He’ll be back. I think.”
I sighed, setting Sneezles aside and standing. I decided to take a shower and clean up a bit in case I’d have a chance to see Otter later.
Ever hopeful, I headed to my room.
* * *
Otter
I didn’t think I’d ever ridden faster in my life. Mom was rarely lucid these days, and since I paid a shit-ton to the memory care facility to take care of her, they always called when she was. Pulling up to the home, I parked, then dashed inside.
“Easton!” Jeanie called. She was one of Mom’s usual nurses, and she was actually my favorite. She went above and beyond, and it made life much easier for me.
“Hey,” I said, making my way to her.
“She’s been asking for you for about twenty minutes.” She checked her watch. “You made it here in record time.”
I nodded. “I was close.”
“Come on back,” she said, and led me down the hall into the day room.