Page 32 of My Casanova

“Guess we’ll find out if they ever wrap up filming.” Yarder slowly looked around the table, and his eyes locked with each of us in turn. “We need to make sure the crew gets their footage, and then they leave. They can’t mess around anymore.”

Throttle held up his hands. “I mean, I don’t think we’re the problem; at least last time, we weren’t. Don needs to look at himself for sending that tool Clay here.”

Compass scoffed. “Calling him a tool is nice. Guy was a fucking moron.”

The guys all chuckled, and the tension eased for a moment.

“You know, just because we all agree to let the filming happen and whatnot doesn’t mean that Boone and Gibbs aren’t going to strike again,” Cue Ball pointed out. “I mean, if you really look at things, they are the reason why filming has been taking so long.”

Yarder nodded. “I know.”

“We all know,” Fade sighed. “What the hell are we going to do about it?”

“We just stay ready.” Yarder sighed and ran his hand down his face. “We’ve got our ear to the ground, and we aren’t hearing anything. Boone and Gibbs have their moves locked down, but they’ll mess up eventually.”

“And when they do,” Pirate cut in, “we’ll take them down.”

Yarder nodded, his expression grim.

“So we’re just sitting ducks until then?” Stretch asked, frustrated.

Yarder glared at Stretch. “Haven’t heard you come up with another plan.”

Stretch glowered at him, and his jaw tightened.

“Brother, I think you need to get some more sleep,” Pirate laughed. “We’re going up against some major political people here. It’s not like we can just shoot them point blank.”

“We’re doing nothing,” Stretch growled. “There has to be something we can do. They keep hitting us, and we just do nothing. They killed fucking Faye right in the parking lot, blew the fucking garage up, and now they blew up the strip mall. When is enough going to be enough?”

Yarder sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I am open to whatever you say, Stretch. Thing is, you haven’t said anything other than we need to do something.”

I looked from Yarder to Stretch. We were all restless and itching for some kind of action, but Yarder was right. Wecouldn’t rush into this without a plan. Boone and Gibbs were too smart and too connected.

“Look,” I said and leaned forward. “We focus on the filming for now. Keep our heads down and make sure Don’s people don’t have a reason to stick around longer than they need to. Meanwhile, we stay sharp and keep watching. When Boone and Gibbs slip up, we’ll be ready.”

Yarder nodded. “Exactly. We don’t let them catch us off guard. Everyone sticks around the clubhouse when the camera crew is here.”

“Only when the camera crew is here?” I asked.

Yarder nodded. “Yeah. And when they aren’t, just keep your eyes open. Boone and Gibbs aren’t going away.”

Throttle sighed. “Fine. But if they start sniffing around again, we’re not playing nice.”

“Agreed,” Compass said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

We sat in silence for a moment. Tomorrow and the next couple of weeks were going to be long days, but if it meant the cameras would finally be gone, it would be worth it.

Chapter Thirteen

Dani

I closed the fridge and smiled. I was pretty sure I had made the best banana split torte of my life. The layers were perfect, the bananas perfectly ripe, and the cherries lined up like little red jewels on top. Now I just had to wait for Smoke to get here.

With an hour to kill, I figured I might as well clean up the kitchen. I wiped down the counters, rinsed the dishes, and then stacked the mixing bowls in the dishwasher.

I headed to my bedroom to figure out what to wear. Smoke had mentioned a motorcycle ride, so I knew I had to wear pants. I pulled out a few options, but my eyes kept drifting back to my dark-washed jeans with a few rips at the knees. They fit me just right and were comfortable enough for a ride. I paired them with a lavender tank top that had a delicate spray of flowers along the scoop neckline. My black boots were a no-brainer, sturdy enough for the ride but stylish enough for wherever we ended up. I also grabbed a zip-up sweatshirt to bring along in case it was chilly on the ride. Texas was hot, but it did cool down a little in the evening.

Satisfied with my outfit, I headed for the shower. The hot water streamed down my back and relaxed the tension I hadn’t even realized I was carrying. I shampooed my hair, and my thoughts drifted to Smoke. Five years ago, after my divorce, I never could have imagined getting ready for a date with a man like him. He was the exact opposite of Vince.

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