Page 6 of The Biker's Forbidden Craving

What the hell is wrong with me?

Ghost stands in the doorway, wide and tall, like a strong Viking who’s come in from battle with news. I’ve never met the man before, but he starts talking like we’ve known each other forever. “Tennessee and Red are out looking for the bikers. I think we’ve got a lead. There’s a hideout on the east side of the mountain by the quarry. We’re pretty sure that’s where they went. We should have the girl back in a few hours.” His brows wrinkle as he stares at me. “You try texting her, or maybe call?”

I tilt my head to the side as though he’s an idiot for mentioning something so basic, though it’s not really that basic at all. “No. I should, though.”

“It’s worth a try. If our guys roll up accusing them of a kidnapping and your friend went out back with them for a good time, then we’re fucked out of luck, kid. Try her cell.”

Rolling my eyes, I pull out my phone and dial her number. “It went straight to voicemail.”

“Okay, send a text.” Ghost might be more demanding than Hank, and Hank is pretty damn demanding.

That said, if trying to call her isn’t the worst idea ever, neither is texting. He’s right. There could’ve been a simple answer to her disappearance.

Me: There are like five bikers looking for you right now. If you’re okay, please let me know ASAP!

I send the text, and say a silent prayer, hoping that she sends me a message back telling me how she followed a strange animal into the woods and she’s currently in the middle of a torrid one-night stand with a wolf shifter. Something tells me that’s not going to happen.

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

Ghost nods and kicks off his boots before tossing himself onto the couch with a grunt. “Your brother know you’re here?”

“No. I was just heading out, anyway.” I glance toward Hank, who’s in the kitchen cleaning up the mess the guys made from earlier. I’m not surprised this place is a disaster. How could five hitmen possibly have time to clean when they’re so busy taking people out and collecting paychecks?

“You’re not going home tonight,” Hank says. “You need to be here so I can keep an eye on you.”

As much as I’ve loved him and his eye on me, my brother will be back soon, and I don’t want to see him. We haven’t spoken in a year, and I’d like to keep the streak going. Besides, I’m not sure how much longer I can contain myself around Hank. His big, rough hands on my back a few minutes ago almost killed me.

“I’m good. It sounds like your men are on their way to grab the bad guys, and I’m sure Maci will be back in her own bed anytime now.”

“Not how it works, Sunny. You know that as well as I do.”

Sunny.I laugh to myself at the thought of that name.

“I haven’t been‘Sunny’in years. You realize they called me that because of all the color I wore, right? I’ve been in solid black the last three years straight.”

He grins wide and steps into the living room, his gaze on mine soft but firm. “You’ll always be Sunny to me. That said, I like black too. It’s classic. Besides, the name was never about your clothes. It was about that smile.”

Oh wow, he just said that. I can’t tell right away if it’s an innocuous random comment or if it’s something deeper. If I were betting, I’d say he’s just being nice.

“Thanks,” I manage, blowing out a breath, “but I don’t feel so sunny lately.”

“It’s in there.” Hank steps toward me. “Come on… let’s go get your room fixed up.”

My room?

I could keep fighting to go home but I don’t know how I’d sleep thinking about every creak and crack of the old cabin I’m renting. Besides that, I know Hank well enough to know that he’s not going to let me go tonight. It’s easier to give in now.

He pushes open the last door in a long hallway and steps inside, flicking on the light before opening a closet door. The room itself is cleaner than the rest of the place, with a queen-sized bed in the center of the room. To the left is a television on an old, hand-built dresser and an attached bath with shower and toilet. It’s nice, but there’s no décor whatsoever. These men really need help making this place a home.

“You can toss this on for the night. I’ll have you out of here before Duke gets up if that’s what you want.” He hands me a black T-shirt from his closet and stands at the edge of the bed as though he isn’t sure what to say next. “Oh, and the shower, feel free to use anything you need. Make yourself at home.”

“You think they’ll have Maci back by morning, right?”

“I can wake you up when my guys have her.”

“Or you can stay here with me until then.” I’m not sure what I’m saying or why I’m saying it. Hank and I haven’t hung out like this since… ever. We’ve never hung out like this. Sure, I’d help him in my brother’s old garage. He’d show me how to loosen a bolt or change the oil in a bike, and we’d have dinner together or go to the county fair, but Duke was always in attendance. Truthfully most of that time was spent listening to their war stories. All five of the guys in the club were in an infantry together and they’ve got chronicles to last a lifetime, though Duke and Hank were the only two I ever talked to personally. The rest of the men were spread out all over the country. When I was younger, I thought the stories were lame, but the older I got, the more I appreciated how those events represented the brotherhood they’d built.

He glances toward me, then away again quickly. It’s a special move of ours that’s been around forever now. He holds his stare with mine as though he wants to devour me, and I wonder if I’m imagining the meaning of his stare in my head.

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