Page 56 of Steel

Luna and Havoc burst out laughing.

“Pretty?” Jameson winks.

“Don’t get any ideas.” I roll my eyes.

I really shouldn’t be flirty with a man who is all wrong for me, but I can’t seem to help it.

“Nice.” Luna smiles, looking up at Havoc. “You gonna let me practice on you now?”

Havoc tips his head back and laughs. “Sure thing.”

They make their way to the middle of the mat while Jameson and I step off to the side.

“Thanks for taking it easy on me so I could show her.”

“I only went a little easy.” Jameson shrugs. “You still got me good.”

“I’m surprised you don’t mind.”

Most men I’ve met are intimidated when I show any hint of strength or confidence, but Jameson isn’t.

“What can I say…” Jameson follows me to the bench so I can grab my water bottle. “I like when a girl can hold her own.”

“Unfortunate necessity sometimes.”

Jameson’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t respond. He waits for me to take a drink and then walks with me to the barn door so I can get some fresh air.

Luna and Havoc are still fighting each other in the center of the gym, and when his body slams to the ground, the thud echoes through the barn.

Jameson leans against the barn door, watching me take another drink of water. “What are you thinking?”

“That I can’t believe you grew up here.” I look around at the wide stretch of empty desert. “I guess I’m not the only one with an unconventional childhood.”

“I guess.” He shrugs. “It’s good and bad, depending on how you look at it.”

I nod. “When I was a kid, I’d have given anything to live in suburbia and have a normal, boring life. But I guess looking back, I can’t imagine not growing up how I did. How else would I have learned all the useless, odd skill sets I picked up from childhood?”

“Such as?” He crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“Taxidermy, for one.” I shiver at the thought.

Jameson’s face pinches. “Taxidermy?”

“Yeah. That’s something I wish I knew nothing about. I was vegan for a year after my mom dated that guy.” I hold up a finger, counting the odd things I’ve learned through the years. “Knife throwing, glassblowing, card counting… And then there was the Houdini wannabe she had a one-month fling with who taught me how to pick every kind of lock you can think of. I could win an award for all the random things I know.”

Jameson chuckles, looking out at the desert.

“What about you, Mr. President?” I tease him. “Any fun tricks up your sleeve?”

He watches me, dragging his teeth over his lower lip, and my core flutters, considering whatever just crossed his mind. Luckily, he doesn’t share it.

“When I was thirteen, my dad taught me how to make stained glass.” Jameson tucks his hands in his pockets.

My eyebrows pinch. “Because that’s a necessary life skill for a biker?”

“His response would beyou never know.” Jameson shakes his head. “Really it was because he was working with a guy who owned a window shop, and Dad was transporting product with the glass shipments. We spent so much time there that I picked up a few things.”

Something about his confession makes him feel less like a figurehead and more human. It makes me want to learn more.

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