Page 9 of Biker Daddy

Carrying her bags, he strode off on his long legs, leaving her to scramble after him. Taciturn?Who used the word taciturn in regular conversation? She decided to leave the hot topic of him buying the camp and spanking her for the moment until she’d seen to Uncle Ray’s arrangements, had some food and some much-needed sleep. Then she’d be capable of shredding him without losing her cool.

Tomorrow that biker was in for it. She huffed and then hauled ass to catch up to him. Did he say fish?

“Uncle Ray has a fish? Like a goldfish?”

He shot a smirk over his broad shoulder at her. “It’s no goldfish, baby girl.”

When he called her that, her belly squirmed. No one had ever called her that. Not even just baby. She’d had a few ‘babes.’ Hey, babe, wanna go for a drink?Hey, babe, you mind? You’re blocking the game.Hey, babe, can I give you a ride? But they didn’t count.

“I can take that,” she said, reaching for her suitcase. He only quirked that damn eyebrow at her again, making her gut flip.

“Even a scoundrel like me wouldn’t let a lady carry her own bags.” He left her behind to head down the path to Uncle Ray’s cabin. She didn’t try to catch up then. Her heels were sinking into the soft moist pine bed and if she moved any faster she’d probably break an ankle.

“What the hell are in these anyway? Bricks?”

Yeah, for the wall I’m going to build to keep you away from this camp.

“I was supposed to be heading to a posh B&B in cottage country. I just grabbed my already packed suitcases and went straight to the airport.”

He made a huffing sound—she thought it may have been the start of a chuckle, but she wasn’t sure.

“Bikinis don’t weigh this much.”

Now she huffed. “It was a business trip.” She rolled her eyes. “I was doing an article for the magazine and I don’t wear bikinis.”

He glared down at her, now at his side. His face moved slowly as he clearly examined her body, leaving a sizzling path of heat.

“Why not?” he asked his expression seriously perplexed. Was he blind? Were those mirrored sunglasses he wore distorting his sight?

“Because girls with my figure shouldn’t,” she stated plainly and looked away.

“Why the hell not?” He sounded offended.

“Because I’m thick.”

“Thick? What the hell does that mean?”

“Solid.”

“Solid?”

She sighed. “I’m fat!”

He stopped at that and set her bags down, grabbing her upper arm again, this time to spin her, stopping when she’d gone full circle and faced him again.

“Christ!” He pressed his mouth sternly. “Says who? Who the hell would call you fat? Those curves should have warning labels, they’re so dangerously enticing. Only an asshole looking for a plastic doll would call you thick, solid,or fat. You’re goddamned perfect!” Oddly, even though his words were complimentary, he sounded angry—as if her looks pissed him off.

She crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look to hide her insecurity. His mouth only firmed further and she found her gaze dropping to her coral high heels uncomfortably.

“Fuck the bikini, you should skinny dip anyway.” He released her, sounding even more irritated and picked up the suitcases again. He made it five big strides before Addi started following. How the hell had they just had that conversation?

And why had his words left her both flustered and overheated in places that shouldn’t be in her current situation? Or at all, since he was a biker and they were dangerous and she didn’t do dangerous. And why the hell was he so aggravated with her?

Uncle Ray’s cabin was in great shape—not like the other cabins. His was freshly painted and even had a new covered porch on the front. She liked the rocking chair sitting on it, but it made her laugh. Uncle Ray was not a rocking chair type even if he was seventy-two. She looked at Fitz and smirked.

“What’s so funny?” Fitz asked as he set her bags down to open the door.

“Just the rocker,” she said. He grinned crookedly a moment before he entered the cabin.

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