Page 26 of Taken By the Biker Daddies

“By the way, George, I forgot to tell Billie, but I was hoping I could take off work tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve just got some stuff to do.”

Great. More personal business.

“I’ll tell Billie,” George answered. “But is this about Gina? Is she okay?”

Randy nodded. “Yeah. She’s fine. Thanks.”

He left with the drinks. I sipped the rest of my soda in silence, trying to block out the sound of Lauren’s laughter, which sounded like nails on a chalkboard each time it reached my ears.

I knew she was young, but surely she was old enough to know how to behave. Also, I was glad that she seemed to be having fun, but wasn’t she having a little too much?

George nudged my shoulder. “Isn’t it about time you consider taking Lauren home? I mean considering she’s had a few drinks too many already.”

Good idea. I finished my soda and got up from the stool. When I turned around, Lauren was dancing next to the jukebox, her hands in the air and her hips swaying. She was doing it like no one was watching, her eyes closed, but most of the people at the bar were staring at her, grinning.

What the fucking hell?

I stormed across the bar, grabbed Lauren by the arm, and dragged her out the side door to where Billie’s pickup was parked.

“Let go of me!” She wrenched her arm away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Keeping you from making an even bigger fool of yourself,” I told her. “Though unfortunately, I can’t erase memories, so you’ll just have to live with the fact that…”

“Who do you think you are?” Lauren glared at me. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Thank goodness Max wasn’t here to see your show.”

“What? Did I embarrass you?”

“You embarrassed yourself. Look at you. You’re…”

Stunning. That was the first word that entered my mind as I stared at her flushed face and her hair tumbling over her shoulders, in disarray but still perfect. With her green eyes, she looked like a fairy under the moonlight.

Except fairies didn’t wear curve-hugging tops and shorts like she did, exposing a fair bit of skin which was now covered in a sheen of sweat.

Sexy. Or so she was, until she opened her mouth.

“I’m what?”

“Drunk,” I told her.

Lauren pouted. “I’m not drunk. I’ve only had three beers.”

So she said, but she was holding out four fingers. And she was speaking louder than usual.

I sighed. “Whatever. Get in the truck.”

She folded her arms over her chest and pouted.

My eyebrows furrowed. How old was she? Five?

I grabbed her arm. “Get in.”

“Or what?” She wrenched her arm away from me and put both hands on her hips. “Are you going to drag me in there, too? Or carry me over your shoulder like a…like a sack of potatoes?”

Tempting.

She twirled some strands of her hair around her fingers. “How am I supposed to know you’re going to take me home?”

---