to sense she needed some levity to set her at ease.
“Hey, guys,” she said, lifting a hand in an awkward wave.
“Hi, Brooke!” They chorused in a dramatized greeting, all wearing big cheesy grins.
She laughed and blew out a breath. Okay, whoever these men were, they didn’t come off as a threat to her or Ray.
“Bunch of jackasses,” Curly grumbled, earning him a smile from her. “Want a beer?”
“Yes,” she said. “Please.” A few.
He straightened to his full height, then placed his hand on her lower back and gave her a gentle nudge toward the table. She wanted to wiggle around and get that hand to rub all over her and maybe slip under her tank top to find her bare skin. Instead, she forced herself to step away from his touch. Her body reacted to him in ways it had never responded to a man before, and she had no plans to encourage it or him, no matter how wild her thoughts ran. She wouldn’t be fooled into a man’s trap by hormones and muscles.
“Take my seat, and I’ll grab you a drink.”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to steal your seat.”
“Brooke?”
The way he said her name, in a commanding but also respectful tone, had her knees weakening. “Yes?”
“Take my seat.”
“Okay.” But only because she didn’t want to make a scene in front of the rest of the people.
As she approached the table, a blond guy kicked the chair out so she could sit. She bit off a laugh. Must be some form of tough-guy chivalry.
Another man grunted. “Classy, Jinx. No wonder you don’t have a woman.” He held out his hand. “I’m Tyler.” He thumbed over his shoulder to Curly, who was pulling a beer from the fridge. “His cousin. Beautiful dog you got there.”
“Thank you. I’m Brooke,” she answered. “And this is Ray. Lie down, buddy.” He plopped down next to her chair, resting his head on his front paws.
The other four guys introduced themselves as well. By then, Curly had deposited a chilled bottle of beer in front of her. “Thank you,” she said as he propped his ass against the cream-colored wall next to her. Heat wafted off his body, practically searing her with its intensity. “I’m sorry I’m crashing the party.”
“Nah, no party,” Tyler said. He seemed to be around Curly’s age, which she guessed was a few years older than she was. Maybe mid-forties. “Just working on getting the new MC up and running.”
“Oh, wow.” A new MC? She cut a glance Curly’s way to find him studying her with dark eyes. Bending some rules to get his help with the dog fighting ring was one thing but partnering up with a man who had a hand in everything she knew him to have been involved in changed her comfort level.
Sliding her chair back an inch, she glanced down at Ray, who still seemed chill as could be. Maybe it was time to go.
“We can bug out so you and your woman can have some time,” the one called Gabe interrupted her escape. He seemed the most serious of the men even though he told her to call him Pulse, which she wasn’t sure she could pull off.
“Oh, no, I’m not his—” she said at the same time Curly said, “Stick around a few more minutes.”
She waved at him to speak again as she reached for Ray’s leash. “Sorry, go ahead.”
He winked then said, “Don’t run away just yet. I want to run your situation by the guys if that’s okay?”
What was she gonna say? No? She was on his turf, surrounded by six large bikers all staring at her. “Sure, of course, it’s okay.” She dropped the leash and forced herself to relax in the chair.
“Brooke is a dog trainer, and she runs a small rescue operation from her property.”
Tracker snapped his fingers then straightened in his seat. “You know, I knew you looked familiar. I do SAR for Find Me, Inc. and I think you’ve worked with some of our pups.”
Well, small world. “Yes!” she said with a smile. “I’ve trained quite a few dogs for you guys. It’s a fantastic organization.” She loved training working dogs and their search handlers. It was such a satisfying experience.
“Yeah, we’ve done some good in the world.”
Some good? That organization alone was responsible for finding over one hundred missing people in Florida just last year. What on earth was he doing hanging around with drug dealers and weapons traffickers?