Page 11 of My Casanova

I watched as he and Dice got to work, their movements quick and efficient. Smoke loosened the lug nuts with ease. Dice slid the jack under the car, pumping it up steadily while they exchanged a few words I couldn’t quite hear. It didn’t take long before the old tire was off, and the spare was in place. Dice handed Smoke the lug nuts, and he secured them tightly.

Before I knew it, the job was done. Smoke tossed the destroyed tire into my trunk and slammed it shut.

“Come over to the clubhouse tomorrow, and we’ll get you a new tire.”

“Oh, no. You don’t need to do that. You guys have already done enough for me,” I insisted and shook my head.

Smoke leaned against my car, his dark eyes fixed on mine. “You probably picked up something in the parking lot from the explosion. This goes back to me and the club. I’ll take care of your tire.”

I rolled my eyes. “I could have picked up something anywhere, Smoke. I don’t think you can really blame yourself forthis.” I stepped closer and met his gaze. “And besides, you guys made it sound like the explosion wasn’t your fault, so this isn’t your fault.”

Smoke glanced at Dice, and something unspoken passed between them.

The Iron Fiends hadn’t been the ones to blow up the strip mall, but something told me they had been the ones the explosion was targeting.

“Come to the clubhouse,” Smoke said again, and his tone left no room for argument. “I’ll take care of your tire.”

I looked up at him and searched his face. “We’ll see. I have to work tomorrow.”

Smoke’s lips thinned in a way that told me he wasn’t a man who liked hearing ‘we’ll see.’

I stepped back and smiled at Dice. “Thank you for stopping to help. I would still be trying to get the tire out if you guys hadn’t stopped.”

Dice grinned and tipped an imaginary hat. “No problem, doll.” He walked back to his bike and left me alone with Smoke.

Smoke was still leaning against my car, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow, angel.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

I wrinkled my nose and shrugged. “Later, Smoke.” I took a few steps toward the driver’s door.

“We’ll follow you to your house to make sure the spare holds.”

My step faltered. “I, uh, you do—”

“We’ll follow you,” he repeated firmly, and his tone made it clear I wasn’t getting out of it.

I nodded. “Uh, thank you.” No sense in wasting time arguing when I had a feeling I wasn’t going to win.

I slid into my car and tossed a glance in the rearview mirror just in time to see Smoke straddle his bike. He slidhis sunglasses over his eyes and cranked the engine as a deep rumble vibrated through the air.

I couldn’t see his eyes, but somehow, I knew he was looking right at me through the mirror.

Why was this man suddenly in my life? And why, whenever I looked at him, did I get butterflies in my stomach?

With a sigh, I rolled my eyes and started the car. As I merged back onto the road, I couldn’t help but glance in the mirror every few seconds. Smoke rode behind me; his motorcycle kept pace with my little sedan. The deep growl of his engine was a steady presence behind me and a constant reminder that he was watching out for me.

The sun was starting to dip. The road stretched out ahead, but all I could focus on was the gleam of chrome and the figure riding behind me.

I turned onto my street and then into my driveway to my usual spot. My little one-story house looked tiny on the outside and was tiny on the inside, but it was home. It was what I could afford after the divorce, and it was enough.

Smoke and Dice stopped at the end of my driveway with their bikes idling.

I stepped out and waved my hand in thanks. I was torn between wanting Smoke to get off his bike and hoping he would just drive off.

Smoke gave a small nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dani Marie.” He glanced at Dice, and without another word, they revved their engines and took off down the street.

I watched them go until the glow of their taillights disappeared around the corner. I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a heavy sigh.

That was unexpected.

---