Page 54 of Jack

He’s wearing the same black boots and T-shirt as always. His jeans are dark blue today. He’s worn them before, but it’s rare. Of course, he has his cut on and a black leather belt. I’ve no clue why he wears the belt. His jeans fit so well that the belt isn’t needed. There’s a black bandana tied loosely around his neck. Now, that’s new.

His mustache and beard are neatly trimmed. He has a little more than the five o’clock shadow most women swoon over. The long strands of his dark hair fall to the side when he tilts his head. I see nothing drastically different about him. Leave it to me to work myself up over a fantasy.

Mentally laughing at myself, I look into his eyes. Everything, including the air around me, shifts. Those are different. His eyes are dark hazel today. When the brief flash of worry leaves his eyes, it happens. I feel the moment those eyes lock onto my soul. Did he feel it, too? His cocky grin says he senses something. I sense I’m in serious trouble. Trouble I won’t be able to save myself from.

“Morning, angel. Ready to go?” He offers me his hand.

And just like that. Mood and fantasy ruined. I step past him without taking his hand.

“I don’t want to be treated like an angel anymore.” I shouldn’t have to remind him.

“You won’t be.” He locks the door, grabs my hand, and pulls me down the steps.

His truck isn’t in the front yard. We take the path toward the clubhouse. Okay. Really? Just because I don’t want to be treated like glass means I’m no longer being picked up at the front door? Geez. That’s kind of harsh.

He answers a call as he opens one of the doors at the back of the building. Am I working here now? I mean, it’s fine, but what will Emily think if I don’t give her a notice? Not doing so isvery unprofessional. Hold on a second. I slightly hang back. Jack pulls me right along behind him.

“Jack, wait.”

He doesn’t stop or slow his pace. Jenny thought I was the new girl last night. If I’m no longer a part of Ariel’s Angels, does it mean I have to work for the club? As a bunny? Oh no. No. No. No. No way am I doing it.

“Jack, I’m not doing this.”

We walk through the middle of the clubhouse with him still on the phone. Surprisingly, there are a lot of people here for a Tuesday morning. The same group of guys play pool but minus the bunnies. Three older members sit at the bar with Pops and Granddad. All of them call out good morning to Jack. He lifts the hand, still holding mine, and keeps walking. We walk right out the front door into the parking lot.

“What was that?” I look back at the clubhouse over my shoulder.

“That was the Den. You’ve been there several times.” He continues to pull me along like I’m a ragged doll.

Ha ha. Very funny. I swat his left shoulder. He abruptly stops and pulls me to him. The left side of his lips twitch.

“So, we’re doing this today, are we?”

“You’re insane.” I shove against him. No, he doesn’t budge an inch.

“A twelve on a scale of one to ten.” He gives a firm nod, proud of his assessment of himself, and starts walking again.

“Where are we going?”

“To work, angel,” he replies over his shoulder.

He stops behind a row of motorcycles parked in front of the clubhouse. “Now, just what is it you’re not doing?”

“Um.” I release a shaky breath. “Where am I working?”

“The bakery.” He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. “You alright, angel? Did something happen last night after I left? You hit your head? Maybe eat something you’re allergic to?”

That’s a really weird question. If I ate something I was allergic to, I’d break out in a rash, or it would affect my breathing. It wouldn’t affect my mind. Wait a minute. He’s calling me crazy.

“No.” I don’t say what I’m really thinking. “This is just different.”

“As I promised,” he reminds me.

I don’t want to talk about last night. Instead, I slowly scan the lot. “Where’s your truck?”

“At home.”

He takes a black helmet from the motorcycle seat in front of us and hands it to me. I stare at the shiny object in my hands. The front, back, and one side are just black with no markings. The design and shape of the helmet make plain black look pretty. I gasp when I turn it to the right. This side has a set of gold wings, and my name is printed in a fancy red font. This makes the helmet beautiful.

---