Now, tell me, Sloane, what day is it today?” she asked calmly. Too calmly.
“It’s Sunday?” I guessed, even though I thought I knew what day it was.
“Yes, it is. And when are you planning on returning home?” she asked.
I felt like I was being led into the wolf’s den for dinner, and it was too late to cancel my reservation. “Um, I don’t know exactly. I mean, it’s a three-hour drive, so I was planning on staying the night. I’ll probably get a room at the same hotel I did the last time I was in Devil Springs—”
“Don’t even pretend like we all don’t know you’re staying in that man’s bed tonight and probably tomorrow night, too,” she interrupted.
I huffed as if I was frustrated. “Fine. You know me too well.”
“Hold that thought. If I mathed right, you’ll be heading back to Cherryfield on Wednesday, probably getting home in the evening.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right, assuming everything goes well.”
“I’ll give you your pep talk about that in a minute. I’ve already made a sticky note. Now, tell me, Sloane, Writer of Words, Rider of Bikers, and Forgetter of Flights, what is happening on Thursday?”
I gripped the steering wheel tightly and screamed at the top of my lungs. “Shit! What am I going to do now?”
“We both know you’re not going to change your current plans, which means you’ll end up scrambling to get your shit together and make it to your flight on time. You’ll calm down on the plane. I’ll pick you up at the airport, and we will kick ass at this signing like we always do.”
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Not today, but you’ve had biker booty on the brain. Go play with his baby, eat his frank, and swallow his beans.”
“Ewww! You made it sound dirty in a dirty, gross way.”
“I did, didn’t I?” she giggled. “How far from his clubhouse are you?”
“I don’t know. Let me look—twenty minutes!” I shrieked. “I’m not ready!”
“Stop it. You’re fine. Touch up your makeup at the next stoplight and run a brush through your hair. There’s no reason to be nervous. You’ve already met him, and some of the people he’s associated with. You’re going to go in there and make them fall in love with you like you do every time you meet new people. Now shush it, because I need the next ten minutes to go over our schedule for the event with you.”
“Yes!” I excitedly agreed. “That’ll be the perfect distraction. Let’s hear it.”
Precise as always, she finished reviewing the schedule of events for the weekend in just under ten minutes, followed by another quick pep talk that left me with one minute to myself before I pulled into a gated parking lot in front of a warehouse-type building.
I assumed we would park in the front lot, but Bronze continued around several buildings and parked behind the last one.
“I figured you’d want a minute to freshen up before meeting everyone. This is the back way to my room,” he explained when I got out of my car.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “Appreciate it.”
He took my hand in his and gently squeezed. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” I admitted.
“Is it because of Copper? Or is it because you’re meeting the rest of your man’s family for the first time?”
My steps faltered, and I tripped, careening forward but never hitting the ground. Bronze’s arm snapped out and grabbed a handful of my shirt, yanking back to stop my fall. Thankfully, it worked. Unfortunately, the move also ripped my top in several places.
“Shit! Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Pausing to catch my breath, I looked myself over as best I could. “But I don’t think my shirt is,” I said and pointed to one of the torn seams.
“Damn. It was the only way I could catch you.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d much rather have a torn shirt than a busted face or broken arm. Besides, I have a change of clothes in the car.”
He hooked my belt loop and pulled me closer. “You better have more than one change of clothes with you.”
My stomach fluttered in delight. “My brothers were boy scouts. They taught me to always be prepared,” I grinned.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Your brothers were boy scouts?” He shook his head. “Around here, you don’t have to hide who your family is. We’re bikers, babe. We’re not saints.”
Damn if that didn’t make my pussy purr.
“Keys,” he demanded and slapped my ass when I failed to