Page 27 of Jacob

Dinner? Oh hell no. Dinner was a date. She had a boyfriend. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I really—I have to study. I’d rather not have the distraction. Worrying about dinner.”

“Sparrow?” Kimber called from the front door, causing Sparrow to snap her head in that direction.

“Shit,” she hissed. “I gotta go.” She trotted in the direction of the bar door.

“Lunch,” he called after her. “Diner. By the motel. Two o’clock.”

She waved a hand behind her, willing Kimber not to hear him. The perplexed look on the bartender’s face when she got to the door said otherwise. Sparrow gave her a shrug. “Try to breathe some fresh air, and it always happens.” She did her best to play it off as some guy who had just hit on her.

When her co-worker nodded knowingly, Sparrow let out a relieved sigh. She’d been believable. Heading toward her mother, her gaze fell on that bouquet of candies, and her stomach knotted. She’d need to deal withthat. Maybe, if she gave it back, she wouldn’t have to.

Chapter 15

Jacob

Sitting on the edge of the motel room bed, Jacob bent over his knee and tugged his laces to tighten his boot before he tied it.Loop. Swoop. Pull.With a slap of his hands on his jean-clad thighs, he let out a heavy sigh and groaned as he stood. He may only be twenty-four but there were times he felt like sixty-four.

He rubbed into the knot in the small of his back as he tried to stretch it out. The springs in the motel mattress competed with one another for dominance over him. He considered sleeping on the floor that night. Hell, the tub might be a better alternative.

Giving up on the ache in his back, he clipped the chain from his wallet to his belt loop. After he stuffed the thick black leather into his back pocket, he swiped at the pack of cigarettes on the dresser. One Marlboro went to his lip and the rest of the pack slipped into the inside pocket of his cut. The fire sparked to life once he flicked the zippo. He puffed and the first hit of nicotine hit him. He took a moment to savor it before the lighter disappeared into his front pocket.

With a tilt of his head, he ran his hands through his beard and scratched along his chin under the hairs. He eyed the beard balm he’d brought on the dresser. He’d never thought of that stuff until he’d seen Dash use it.

He scoffed at himself as he pulled another drag into his lungs. Pinching the cigarette between his fingers, he eyed the cherry. There were a lot of things he did because he saw Dash do them, using beard balm was probably the most benign and best thing for him.

Blowing the smoke out, he replaced the cigarette to his mouth before opening the container and getting some of the wax on his fingers. He worked it through the coarse hair, giving it a hint of shine and smoothing it out. Turning his head this way and that, he laughed at himself again.

“Could I be much more of a bitch?” He shook his head as he capped the balm.Since when did he primp before a date? When was the last time he actually went on a date?

Patting his hands on his chest, his front pants pockets, and then his back, he decided he had everything he needed. He might as well head over to the diner that shared the motel parking lot. The diner where Sparrow used to work. The diner where they’d seen each other in passing years ago before she left him the note he still carried in his cut.

Yeah, he was a sentimental fuck.

Head high, shoulders back, Jacob learned long ago there was an expected swagger for bikers. When he was a kid, it took an effort to saunter with an attitude and he looked like an absolute tool bag. Over the years, from watching the men of Odin’s Fury, he learned how to tone it down and it came naturally. From the way the people in the diner parking lot reacted to him and got out of his way, he knew he nailed it.

He reached for the glass doors and his stomach gnarled in anticipation of having time alone with her away from the club, away from bikers in general, warred with the fear that she may not show up. He didn’t exactly confirm she would. He probably should have followed her into the bar and confirmed.

Fuck. Why hadn’t he?

Too goddamn late now.

Taking a deep breath, Jacob yanked open the door and entered the diner. He scanned the bustling restaurant while All American Rejects played softly over the speakers. Trucker. Trucker. Couple. Single guy. He wanted to be seated in a booth, toward the back, by a window. He liked being able to see who came into the place and didn’t like anyone having the jump on him, so he liked having a wall to his back. Pair of women. The old guy at the counter.

In the back corner booth, facing the wall, sat a crazy multi-toned brown-haired woman. He was fifteen minutes early. When the host came to the register, Jacob held up a hand and pointed. “Found her,” he said with a relieved smile.

She showed.

The walk from the host stand to the table Sparrow selected wasn’t long. As he got closer, his brows furrowed at what he saw on the table. Colorful swirls. White wrappers. Circles. She turned and he saw it fully.

The lollipop bouquet.

He paused his steps as she slid out of the booth. When she stood up, her nose came to his mouth, making it very clear he probably should have stopped walking sooner. Or, she should’ve waited to stand up.

The sound of her gulp as she stepped back and ran her hands through her hair didn’t sit well with him. However, it was quickly forgotten as he watched the way her fingers wrestled with the tangles of her curls. God, he loved her hair. No matter if she pulled it back, or let it hang wild and free. He’d always had, almost as much as he loved every one of the freckles that dotted her face.

“Hey, hi,” she stammered with an awkward wave.

“Hey,” he returned and opened his arms, offering a hug.