Page 65 of Spiritwarrior

Fynn must have seen his concern, because he went back to the brother he was more comfortable with, who had a loving heart.

“I won’t. The only reason I said anything was because I didn’t want you to continue beating yourself up. If you want to blame someone, blame Mother.”

Concerned, Jody watched as Fynn left the cemetery. Then, looking upward, he went to his knees. “Forgive him. If you want to punish him, punish me instead.”

Not expecting an answer, he rose from his knees only to find himself flung to the ground with such force the air was knocked out of his lungs. He had to lie there for several minutes before he could finally get his breath back. Managing to get to his knees, he looked back up at the sky.

“Gotcha. I’ll mind my own business from now on.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Carefully closing and locking the door, Sophie stepped back and placed a hand over her mouth. Her lips were still throbbing. The only way she had managed not to throw herself into his arms was the image of him carrying Baylin into her apartment.

The thought had been enough to let cold reason win the day. Complaining about it not being fair about how Jody affected her hormones, she went into her bedroom to take off her clothes. Naked, she went into the bathroom to take a shower. How much longer was she going to keep the façade of not being attracted to him?

Turning off the shower, she dried off then put on pajamas, then climbed into the bed. She turned off the light then rolled over to stare out the window, gradually feeling the tension leaving her body.

She should be proud of herself. She had placed Jody in the friendly zone and had made sure he wouldn’t try to cross the line again. If she was so stinking happy she had won the challenge between them, then why was she regretting not inviting him inside?

What if, instead of winning, in reality, she was the loser?

Refilling a coffee cup for the customer at the front counter, Sophie watched as Jody took the orders of three women at a table in the middle of the restaurant.

“Can I get some cream?”

Sophie returned her gaze to her customer to find two sets of male eyes studying her. “Of course.”

She went to the mini fridge behind her and took out a handful of creamers to give the men. Both were wearing Last Rider jackets. She hadn’t been in Treepoint two days before finding out The Last Riders were a motorcycle club just outside of town.

The door opening had her turning her head to see Ginny’s husband walk inside. Her jaw nearly dropped when she saw Gavin wearing the same black leather jacket. Staring, she watched as Gavin took a seat next to the men she was waiting on.

“Hello, Sophie.”

“Gavin.”

She was aware she was making a fool of herself for staring but couldn’t help herself. When she had seen Gavin each time before, he was daunting. Sophie didn’t think many people would be brave enough to take him on. In the Last Rider jacket and dressed in black, he was terrifying.

Forcing her vocal cords to work, she managed to ask him if she could get him anything.

“A coffee would be good.”

The humor in his eyes eased some of the terror in her chest.

After making a cup of coffee, she turned back to the counter to find all three men focused on her.

“Sophie, these are some friends of mine.” Gavin motioned to the man next to him. “This is Viper, the president of The Last Riders”—Gavin gestured toward the other man—“and this is Shade.”

Sophie tried not look toward the cold-eyed man whom she had been avoiding the moment he had sat down. All three of them together chilled her to the bone.

“Nice to meet you both. Thank you for coming in. Can I get anyone anything else?”

“Sophie,” Gavin’s said in a hushed tone, “Viper wants to talk to you about your father.”

She took a step back from the counter and came up against a brick wall. Startled, she turned her head around to find Jody behind her.

“Hear them out.” Jody’s hand went around her waist, urging her back to the counter.

Flustered at being so close to him, it took a second for her to concentrate on what Viper was saying.

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