Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC #10) - Lilly Atlas Page 0,34

take the call was any indication.

The part that baffled him in this little tango they’d danced was how she’d all but told him to fuck off after ending the call.

What the hell?

She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her. He’d spent enough time around horny women who had their sights set on his dick to know what the hell he was talking about. And Makenna had eyes for his cock. But she’d turned him down cold.

Twice in one night.

What kind of game was she playing? Clearly, she caught on to how the good girl-next-door act did it for him but wasn’t leaving him with blue balls on more than one occasion taking it too far?

Shit, he wanted a sweetheart, not a prude virgin.

Still, he could admit he’d been a bit of an ass, okay a total fucker in those last few moments. And the guilt of being less than his usual charming self had to be responsible for his Makenna perseverations over the rest of the weekend. His conscience, which seldom weighed in on his life choices, had been screaming at him for more than forty-eight hours.

Enough was enough.

“Hey, Thunder, the usual?” Shell asked as she sidled up to his table at the diner Tuesday morning.

“Yeah, babe, thanks.”

“All right, a three-egg omelet with ham and cheddar, extra potatoes, and buttered white toast coming right up. I’ll grab you a coffee refill, too.”

“Thanks, hon. Copper’s a lucky fucking man.”

She grinned at that, a pretty pink blush flushing her cheeks. Rubbing the swell of her pregnant belly, she tilted her head and gave him an assessing once-over. “You know, I’m the one who’s pregnant, and I still can’t eat like you. Where the hell do you put it all?”

With a wink and his legendary smile, he flexed his right bicep. “Takes a lotta fuel to keep these babies running.”

Shell’s eyes rolled back so far they nearly revolved in her head. “You’re seriously demented,” she said, but her giggle gave away the fact the insult held no weight.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing her wrist as she began to turn away. “Mak working today?”

He’d been hoping to be seated in her section but didn’t want to show his cards by requesting it. Still, Shell’s eyes narrowed with a knowing gleam. “She’s not. I swear that girl would never take a day off if Toni didn’t force her to. She’s worked here the last seven days straight, including Sunday morning after working at the clubhouse all night Saturday. Toni flat out refused to let her in the door today.”

Huh. Thunder frowned. Was she hurting that badly for money? The thought of her working herself to exhaustion had him unable to react with his usual playful banter.

Shell cleared her throat, drawing him from his thoughts.

“What? Huh?”

She glanced at where he still held onto her and chuckled. “You gonna give me my hand back? I need that one to carry your food.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He released her at once, and she walked away with a chuckle as she shook her head and sent her blond curls bouncing.

Before he had the chance to dive back into obsessing, Screw slid into the booth opposite him. Gumby followed a second later.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t two-thirds of the happy throuple,” Thunder said as he leaned back in the booth and folded his arms across his chest. “You here to ogle the pretty member of your relationship?” he asked with a smirk. Jazmine, the brave woman who lived with these two men, worked as the diner's general manager.

Screw flipped him off, while the more subtle Gumby snorted.

“Can’t argue with you calling our Jazzy pretty, but you’re still an asshole. And while seeing our girl is always a plus, she’s actually not the reason I’m here,” Screw said as he flipped his coffee mug over on its clean white saucer.

“She’s why I’m here,” Gumby announced. “And pretty doesn’t even come close to describing how gorgeous that woman is.” As he spoke, his gaze scanned the diner, no doubt searching for the woman in question.

Screw frowned at his lover, which made Thunder bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“I thought you were here because you wanted to have breakfast with me,” Screw said, with the most pitiful pout Thunder had ever seen.

“Of course, I am, baby.” Gumby stroked a hand over Screw’s shoulder-length hair in an exaggerated and slightly patronizing caress. He winked at Thunder, then rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even give a shit that you’re making fun of me right now.