Burnout_ A Legal Heat Novella - Sarah Castille Page 0,29
Sophie the other day just before he took that new sweet butt with him to Seattle. I can’t remember her name. Was it Tatty or Tarty or maybe Titty?”
Mop snorted. “Her name is Tabby, and you’re letting your jealous streak show.”
“Ryder and I had a thing.” Jackie’s gaze flicked to Sophie and she shrugged. “I still care. I don’t want to see him get hurt by a slutty little sweet butt who only wants him so she can be the president’s old lady.”
“I thought you had a thing with Ace,” Sophie said, bemused.
“She gets around.” Mop quickly stepped away as Jackie reached out to slap him. “She also had a thing with Viking Dan, but he quit the club and went back to Norway to get away from her.”
“If I were a guy, you’d be high-fiving me for all my sexual conquests.” Jackie sighed. “Instead, you try to slut shame me. But it’s not gonna work because I’ll sleep with who I want to sleep with, and I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. Especially you.” She waved Sophie forward and glared at Mop. “That’s the problem with prospects today. No respect. I’m the unofficial club PI, and do I get any respect? No. Does anyone say, ‘Hey, Jackie, great job disguising yourself as a bag of trash to catch my old lady fucking the garbage man’? Of course not. They’re too busy using him for a punching bag to remember who found him in the first place.”
Mop followed them into the clubhouse and gestured for Sophie to follow him. “Don’t mind her,” he said. “Everyone loves Jackie. She just likes to grumble.”
Spacious, open, and brightly lit to make up for the blacked-in windows, the biker clubhouse was a far cry from the dark, seedy quarters Sophie had imagined. A few bikers lounged at the full bar in one corner, while others chatted in the dining area in front of a large kitchen. Two pool tables and weight and fitness equipment took up most of the space on the west wall, and a row of lockers covered with Harley Davidson stickers filled the east side. Posters of motorcycles, naked women, and naked women on motorcycles dominated the walls.
“That’s the room where the club has church meetings.” Mop pointed to a door with the Rogue Riders’ patch painted on the front. “Prospects, old ladies, and hangers-on aren’t allowed inside. Only full patch.”
“Church?” Sophie frowned.
“That’s what we call the weekly meetings of all the full-patch members. The day I go to my first church meeting will be the second-best day of my life, the best day being when I finally get my colors.” He patted his vest, and Sophie understood he meant his patches.
Her pulse kicked up a notch as he led her down a narrow hallway. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Ace in the two days since he’d taken her to Jason’s house. But she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind, from the deep rumble of his voice to the warmth of his body, and from his protective streak to his outrageous remarks.
“Ace, you got a visitor,” Mop called out.
She emerged into a spacious lounge dominated by a giant television and three huge, worn couches. Four bikers were sprawled over the two side couches. Kickstand perched on an armchair in the corner.
“Oh, shit.” Mop grabbed Sophie’s arm and pulled her back, but it was too late. Ace sat in the middle of the third couch, his feet up on the coffee table, arms spread across the back, a woman tucked against each side, and one straddling his lap.
Ace looked up and met her gaze, his face smoothing into an expressionless mask. “Babe.”
For a long moment, she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know what hurt the most: the clear evidence she hadn’t meant anything to him or the knowledge she’d made the wrong choice yet again.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Ace lifted his arms, and the woman on his lap eased herself to stand.
Sophie took a deep breath as bile rose in her throat. What had she expected when she’d said she didn’t trust him? That he wouldn’t have other women? They’d only been together a few days, and she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in anything more than a bit of fun. And yet, as she stared at him, his face became Ryan’s face. Ryan, who was her first love. Ryan, who’d shattered her heart.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. It shouldn’t bother her, but it did, and not just