Tori glances at me, and I wonder if it’s me she’s worried about, not Sutton.
The waiter brings the check, and I dig out my credit card and toss it on the little tray.
Fiona leans back in her chair and rubs her belly. “I’m stuffed, but it was so good.”
She can always drag a smile out of me. I crumple a napkin and throw it at her.
After the waiter returns with my card, I sign the receipt, and we walk out to the curb.
Fiona digs her keys out and beeps the locks.
“Where are you headed now?” I ask her.
“Headed home to get ready for the party.” She checks her watch. “It’s six, so I’ve got to get going.”
Tori looks at her clothes. “I need to change.”
“You look so cute in that,” Fiona tells her.
“You sure? I’m in cutoffs.”
“You’re fine,” Fiona says. “It’s casual. I promise.” Then she gives me a sly look. “Besides, I think my brother likes that outfit. I saw the way his eyes devoured you when you walked up to the table.” She waggles her fingers before I can reply. “Ta ta, you two. See you tonight.”
I stand on the curb, holding Tori’s hand. “Did you ride with her?”
“No. My car is over there.”
I gaze in the direction. “Want to leave it there and go on the bike with me? We can come back for it later.”
“I suppose so.” She looks at herself. “Can I ride in these shorts?”
“Yeah. If it gets cold later, I’ve got some chaps you can wear.” Actually, just the picture I’m imagining of her in chaps heats my blood.
“All right.”
I dig her out a helmet and swing my leg over the bike. She puts it on and buckles it under her chin.
“Ready?” I pat the seat behind me. “Climb on.”
When I feel her arms wrap around me, I squeeze her knee, then twist the throttle and roar off down the street.
For the moment, everything seems right in the world.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tori—
I hang on to Rafe, and at every light, he touches my leg—a squeeze of my knee, a rub of my thigh—and I can’t get enough. My arms naturally go around his neck to give him a quick hug at each stoplight.
He takes us to the clubhouse, and when he cuts the engine, he turns to me. “I thought we could kill some time here until the party starts. You good with that?”
I love that he cares to ask. “Yes. I’m good with that.” Slipping off the bike, I wait for him to drop the kickstand, take my hand, and lead me inside.
Rafe walks us to the bar and motions Cody over, getting us two beers. Instead of sitting at the bar with some of his friends, he leads me toward the door by the stairs and down the long hall. He pushes through the door at the end, and then we’re out in the big warehouse.
A skylight shines on the empty cage where the fighting took place the other day. We walk toward the cage, and I can feel Rafe’s eyes on me as I study the huge thing, glimmering in the fading sunset light.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.