Page 42 of Bullet

She hesitated. “You think this is a good idea? Being seen together?”

I shrugged. “Helmet should cover most of your face.”

“Whatever you say.” She laughed before pulling the helmet over her head.

I patted the seat behind me. “Hop on.”

She jumped on and secured her arms around my waist.

“Hang on tight, kitten.” I revved my bike and pulled out of the parking lot, turning on the main street.

“Where are we going?” Dixyn yelled over the roar of my engine.

“You'll see,” I yelled back.

I had decided to take Dixyn to my favorite place, the Black Bear Diner. It wasn't fancy but had the best comfort food. Plus, we wouldn't have to worry about running into anyone we knew since it was in Bullhead City, not Laughlin.

I pulled up outside and put my bike in park. Dixyn hopped off the back and slipped her helmet off. “I've never been here before.”

I took my helmet off and took hers from her, then put them in my saddlebag. “Well, you're in for a treat, then. This is my favorite spot.”

Opening the door for her, I followed her inside. We were seated in a booth near the back, and Dixyn looked around, taking in all the décor. “This place sure is homey.”

“Yeah. Food is, too.”

A waitress in a plaid lumberjack shirt came to take our drink order.

Dixyn opened the menu and scanned the pages. She glanced up at me with a wry grin. “Let me guess, you like the Bigfoot Chicken Fried Steak?”

I chuckled. “What can I say? I'm a big guy.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and went back to looking at the menu. “I think I'll have the potpie. Or maybe the pot roast.”

I smiled. I liked a girl who wasn't afraid to eat. “Both are great.”

She set her menu down. “Have you had everything here?”

“Just about. Minus the pasta and girly shit.”

Dixyn laughed as the waitress came back with our drinks. We ordered our food, and I took a drink of my Arnold Palmer. “The only bad thing about this place is they don't have booze.”

She laughed again. “Well, I assume this celebration will include booze.”

“Of course. And a tattoo.”

Her brows furrowed. “A tattoo?”

“Yeah. I always get a tattoo to celebrate something; that way they all have meaning.”

She played with her straw, smiling at me. “That's really cool.”

“You got any ink?” I asked. I hadn't noticed any when I'd fucked her, but I hadn't been looking.

She shook her head. “I’ve always wanted to, but never have because it's not the most desirable for actresses.”

I nodded in understanding. “What about now?”

She shrugged. “Maybe when I get some money. I want to get something for my grandpa. He practically raised me since my dad was in and out of jail.”

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