Page 29 of Jacob

Chapter 16

Sparrow

First of all, she wasn’t supposed to know club business. Second of all, no one was supposed to discuss club business with outsiders. Yet there she was, letting what her father wanted for her spill from her lips like she sat in a confessional booth with a priest.

Heaven help her, Jacob was anything but a priest.

Sparrow’s fingers—her palm—her skin seared with the heat between them the moment his hand found hers.

She came here, to this diner, to this lunch—with him—to give back the bouquet of lollipops; to return the most romantic thing she’d ever gotten because shecouldn’taccept it. The most perfect gift anyone could’ve ever given her, nope, shecouldn’thave it. The most thoughtful gift anyone could have given her, nope, shecouldn’thave it.

Why?

Pipes.

Fucking Pipes.

Well, that and Jacob was Odin’s Fury.

Sparrow was Roughneck Riders. Kind of. Okay, she was nothing, because women couldn’t be members of the MC. But she had an allegiance, an inherited loyalty, andthatmeant something to her.

Using the arrangement to block anyone’s view of their joined hands, she wanted to enjoy the moment just a few seconds longer. While the club may not own the diner, run the diner, or have anything to truly do with it, they had eyes and ears everywhere. They gossiped more than a bunch of high school bitches at a lunch table. She didn’t need that headache.

She wanted to enjoy the moment with Jacob. Her mother, her own boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to remember that she had goals outside being on the back of a bike. She could hold hands with the guy who did—in the diner where she used to work and the Roughneck Riders sometimes went.

Fuck.

She was asking for trouble.

“Here you go.” Gum-popping waitress was back. Reflexively, she tugged her hand free of his and placed it in her lap. Lingering warmth tingled through her fingers. She interlaced her digits, trying to mimic the hold she’d just shared with Jacob, but it lacked something, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes at herself.

The scent of fried food filled her nostrils as the plate appeared before her. Though it wasn’t what made her mouth water. No, that was for the burger in front of Jacob. If Julio still worked in the kitchen, that thing would be cooked to perfection.

“Enjoy.” The server smiled before she headed off.

She should’ve gotten a burger with pepper jack cheese and those little jalapenos. Groaning inwardly, she eyed her plate of eight mozzarella sticks and the small bowl of warmed jarred marinara sauce. The food would, no doubt, taste as bland as the regret she felt.

She cursed herself for opting for something quick and small. There wasn’t anything that said she couldn’t have a decent lunch. She had a full night of studying ahead of her. The least she could’ve done was set herself to do it on a full stomach.

But no. Get in and get out. That’d been her plan. So, she ordered the smallest thing she could think of on the menu.

Begrudgingly, she picked up a stick of fried cheese, dunked it in the red sauce, and brought it to her mouth as she watched the juice drip from the burger, and into Jacob’s beard, while he bit into it. Chewing, he brought the pop to his lips, sipping it from the straw.

“Which school you going to?” he asked after he swallowed.

Her stomach rumbled as she ate her disappointing lunch. It wasn’t the heavy cheese that sunk like lead in her gut, it was the pathetic feeling of being stunned by his question—by his interest.

The people closest to her hadn’t cared to ask her what school she’d test into. They didn’t want to know where she’d earn her degree. This guy, this guy that she’d written letters to as a kid, he cared.

Swallowing another bite, she eyed the candy bouquet she shouldn’t take back home with her—no matter how much she wanted to. “Eastern Gateway.”

He bobbed his head. “A good place?” he asked before taking another massive bite.

Pursing her lips, Sparrow swirled the breaded stick of cheese in the bowl of crushed tomatoes. “I mean, it’s a community college. It’s not an Ivy League school or anything.” She shrugged. “I’m not going to start a fortune five hundred.”

He snorted as he reached for the ketchup and squirted it on the plate. “I thought I read something where like Bill Gates or the Apple guy, wait. Is Bill Gates the Apple guy?” He paused, peering up at the ceiling as he held the ketchup bottle over his plate as he thought.

It was an absolutely adorable sight, she couldn’t help but smile.

---