Page 51 of Break Out

A reckless idea struck me. I didn’t put women on the back of my bike. Not even Naomi, for a ride around her neighborhood that she’d begged for the day she met me. Right now, I wanted to take Simone back to my camper, and I didn’t want her driving there. Another upside was that she wouldn’t have wheels to make a getaway.

Putting her on my bike made a statement though.

I didn’t give a shit about statements. Not with Simone. The more I thought about having her at my back, the more I wanted it.

“Let’s get your fuckin’ dishes done, Jade. Then you need to put on some boots if you brought any.”

She grabbed her plate. “Boots?”

“You’re coming back to my camper tonight, and you’re not driving yourself. You’re riding with me, so yeah, motorcycle boots would be good if you packed any.”

All that sass made for a great show as she cocked a hip, tilted her head, and smirked. “What kind of MC princess doesn’t pack her motorcycle boots? Seriously, Steel, this isn’t my first Bike Week.”

I grinned. “Hurry up woman, or we’ll never leave, and that’s a fuckin’ problem since I got a meeting at nine tomorrow.”

Her lips twisted. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. I need my car.”

I walked past her and led the way inside to the kitchen sink. “What for?”

“I’m not missing the wrestling. It’s the entire reason I came down here.”

With the hot water turned on full blast, I gave her a pointed look. “Not to corner me? Or eavesdrop on me?”

She put her plate on the counter and grabbed a Pyrex dish with a lid. “That was pretty much Abby’s idea. I wasn't going to look for you since it seemed crazy that you could be the father, but Abby and my friends wanted me to get a look at you. Jasmine suggested I drive up to the mother chapter compound, but Abby said the campsite would be easier.”

While she loaded the leftover pasta into the glass dish, I grabbed her plate and washed it.

It seemed strange that other people wanted to hunt me down and not her. “Would you have made the drive to Augusta?”

She chuckled. “If I had a death wish, I suppose.”

I shook my head. Our reputation preceded us, but for once that wasn’t a good thing. “You would have gone on without ever finding me?”

She gave a very slow nod. “Probably. Dad and Mom were adamant I find the father. Hell, I went back to Pi House to talk to the bartender.”

“Bet that made his day,” I muttered, rinsing the pot.

Dish towel in hand, she grabbed the pot and dried it. “Right until I mentioned that I was off the Jack Daniel’s Honey for a few months.”

I choked on laughter.

“What’s that for?”

I shook my head and washed the empty pot. “Serves the fucker right.”

Her head reared back. “You’re possessive.”

“Damn straight. Wanted to punch him that night when he flirted with you about fuckin’ Old Fashioneds. What’d he tell you?”

She dried a plate. “That he wasn’t able to give out that information.”

I nodded. “If the wrestling is the only reason you came down here...” I trailed off when an awful thought hit me. “You’re not planning to wrestle are you?”

She tilted her head back and burst with laughter. Her joy and humor was contagious. Not since that night in December, had I smiled and laughed this much.

Christ. Being around her felt natural and right. I didn’t get much of that in my life.

Her laughter waned and she dabbed at her eyes. “Oh, that’s funny. No. I won’t be wrestling.”

---