Page 10 of Bounty
It wasn’t just Slice whom Mom didn’t want me to bind myself to romantically. It wasanyone. My mom would encourage Slice to contact Cass while also warning him away from me.
Sighing, I smoothed my hair down, looked at the mirror hanging on the bathroom door, and exited the room.
My theory lacked proof; I didn’t know what they’d discussed in the lobby and refused to ask. If Slice wanted me to know, he would’ve volunteered that information. But he hadn’t. Instead of appreciating that I’d dressed for him, he told me to change into freaking jeans.
The nerve of him!
I almost left him in the stupid lobby, waiting for me. Humiliation coupled with annoyance and a dose of hunger threatened to ruin all my plans. Yet, I returned to him, wearing my jeans and combat boots. I was still stewing, but, when I sawhim pacing, his phone to his ear, muscles straining, his long hair queued, I didn’t regret my decision. And when he led me to his Harley, I fell a little in love with him. Any lingering anger melted away.
“Let me help you, babe,” he said, grabbing my waist and settling me onto his bike.
“Thank you,” I breathed, giddy from the brief feel of his hands on me.
After he stuffed my purse and phone in his saddlebag, he mounted up and revved the engine. The roar vibrated the bike, and a thrill shot through me. As he pulled off, I wrapped my arms around his trim waist and leaned my head on his back. Laughter rumbled from him, though I found nothing funny. I didn’t know our destination and I didn’t care. My hard work finally paying off left me quite happy.
I clung to him tightly, relishing his closeness. The cool air lapped at my face and neck as the cityscape zoomed by. Our surroundings blurred. Being on the back of a bike was an exhilarating freedom I’d never felt before.
I didn’t want to pull my body away from Slice’s. No, I wanted to be even closer. With nothing between us, especially clothes.
Everything felt out of a dream and strengthened my attraction to Slice. The moment would forever be ingrained in my mind, and I didn’t want it to end. In my life, I’d had two boyfriends, one in middle school and one during my senior year of high school. Neither boy compared to the man Slice was.
When we finally glided to a stop, I examined our whereabouts. It wasn’t the smartest move, hopping on a motorcycle for an unknown location, but I trusted Slice. His illegal side hustle aside, none of my dealings with him indicated he was a bad man.
“A bar and grill,” I noted as I read the sign. My mouth watered at the thought of food filling my belly. Burger grease and sautéed onions scented the air.
One look around told me we were on a shadier side of town and the diner wasn’t a five-star eatery. But hey, mom-and-pop shops offered some of the best food around, and I was positive Slice wouldn’t intentionally put me in danger.
“Morty’s Bar and Grill.” He killed the engine, then helped me off the bike. As he led me inside, he wrapped an arm around my waist. Immediately, I cozied up to him. “I come here whenever I pass through Austin. Bomb burgers and some good ass brews.”
“Do you visit Austin often?” He relinquished his hold on me to open the door and I smiled in gratitude. “Such a gentleman.”
A chuckle met my teasing, quickly followed by a swat to the ass. My eyes widened and my cheeks heated. Despite the photos we’d exchanged earlier, such forwardness took me aback. Not that I was complaining.
“Don’t be too sure about that, sweetheart,” he replied, leading me to a wooden hostess stand, one arm slung around my shoulders. “Table for two, please.”
The pretty blonde manning the station was scrolling on her phone. When Slice cleared his throat, she looked up, tucking the device away. She smiled at him. Pursing my lips. I quickly masked my sour expression with my own grin.
“Of course.” She grabbed two menus. “Right this way, please.”
The restaurant was more crowded than expected, and the clientele matched the exterior of the building. More than one biker in a cut dined here. A question popped into my head.
“Did you take me to a biker joint?” I asked Slice the moment the hostess left to put in our drink order.
A brow quirked up. “What? No, Effie. It just happens to be near the Austin branch of Red Rum. And to answer your earlier question, I come to Austin a handful of times a year.”
“So, you do come here often.”
“If you call two to four times a year often, then sure.”
“It’s more often than I come to Austin, and I live in Texas.”
“Touché,” he conceded.
Our banter had me in a good mood, enough so that my empty stomach hadn’t turned me into a raging bitch. My heart fluttered at his genuine smile. I prayed our night wouldn’t end after dinner. I enjoyed his company. Once the signing ended, I didn’t know when I’d next see him. Even if we agreed to give a relationship a go.
I didn’t believe in long-distance romance. For Slice, I’d make an exception, though almost six hundred miles stood between Corpus Christi and Oklahoma City.
Picking up my menu, I flipped to the burger section, remembering Slice’s earlier comment about the bomb burgers. I found myself torn between the ‘All American,’ which was just a bacon cheeseburger with the fixings, and the more experimental BBQ jalapeno burger. Both had my stomach growling in anticipation.
