Page 20 of Faking it with the Bad Boy Bikers

“Too late. Dana’s already writing on my check. She’s writing in pen, Nellie.” He kept his eyes on mine. “Order what you want or I’ll order what I think Waylan would like.”

“Ice cream. That’s what Waylan would like. Always.” I shot him one last annoyed glance and then looked at Dana. She was doing her best to kill me with her gaze as I told her what I needed. When she walked away, I turned back to Woodrow and blew out a breath. “Wow. She hates me.”

Keeping his voice low, Woodrow leaned into me. “She hates all women, I’m pretty sure. Don’t take it personally.”

I raised my eyebrows and leaned it so our voices didn’t carry. “She definitely doesn’t hate you.”

He rested his arm along the counter, partially caging me in. “Hmm. I think you might be right. She’s slipped me her number three different times. Once when she thought I was in a biker gang pushing drugs.”

I grinned. “Women love a bad boy.”

“All women?”

Catching the way his eyes dropped to my mouth for a lingering gaze, my breath caught. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip and rested my arm along his so I could run my fingers over all those muscles. “I plead the fifth.”

He let out a low groan and lifted his other hand to rub his thumb over my cheek. “You’ve been working?”

I nodded and fought the urge to press my face into his touch. “At Steve’s. I worked there as a kid, too.”

“Tell me why that makes me want to break my bike just so I can bring it to you?” His grin was charming, that gap so endearing that I wanted to stroke it with my tongue.

“I’m not cheap.” I laughed when his eyes widened. “As a mechanic. I’m not cheap as a mechanic.”

That grin stretched even wider, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He was so locked in on me that I felt like I was the only person in the world. We were too close, too personal for two strangers, but when I told myself to lean back, I realized I didn’t want to. I liked his attention.

“Here’s your check, Woodrow.” Dana’s annoyed voice broke the spell I was under. When I sat back and glanced over at her, she rolled her eyes at me and stalked off.

Woodrow caught my hand when I tried to pull it away. “I’m sure you had your fair share of jealous mean girls as a kid. Ignore her.”

I let out a strangled laugh. “I was a pregnant and homeless sixteen-year-old, Woodrow. Believe me when I tell you that no one was jealous of me.”

A dark look settled over his face. His jaw muscles flexed as he chewed that over. “Did you leave here because you wanted to?”

Glancing away from him I shook my head. “I never would’ve chosen to leave my family. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Motherfucker.” He gripped the back of my neck and pulled me close enough that his harsh words were angry puffs of airagainst my mouth. “Don’t look at me with those heartbroken eyes right now, Nell. I’m using all of my self-control to not body slam your brother through that booth he’s at.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised he knew Mills was there. He didn’t seem to miss anything. I braced myself on his thighs to keep from sliding off my stool and I felt his muscles tense under my hands. “I don’t think he knew.”

“Were you hurt?” His entire body seemed bigger, harder, as he stared into my soul.

“No. Not… Not like that. Virginia found me and took me home. She never let anyone get near me after she took me in.” I swallowed. “Hammer only started bothering me when they died.”

“I’ll kill him. Fuck keeping the Sherriff’s office clean.” He gripped my chin and tilted my head back so he could study my face. “Do you want that?”

A wave of shock washed over me, followed quickly by a wave of heat. Was he offering to kill Hammer for me? He was nuts. Absolutely insane. And I must’ve been just as nuts because I’d never been more turned on in my life. I had to swallow the drool pooling in my mouth to speak. “No, no. Don’t… Don’t do that. He’s not worth you going to jail.”

Woodrow’s eyes flashed and then he leaned even closer, pressing his mouth against my ear. “You don’t know me so I won’t let it bother me you’d think I’d leave a trail.”

My fingertips pressed harder into his thighs. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t like messes.”

He practically growled against my neck and trailed the tip of one finger up my thigh. “There are messes I like, messes I’d like to lick up.”

I squeaked. “I’m not a mess.”

He leaned back, the smirk on his face out of hand. “If I didn’t think you’d slap the shit out of me, and rightfully so, I’d tell you I can smell the mess you’re making for me, Nell.”

My eyes went wide. “You told me anyway!”

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