Page 11 of Rambler's Snow Bunny
I freeze for half a second, then shrug, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. Time to move on, I guess.”
“Where you headed?” He takes another sip, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I don’t know yet.” I busy myself with wiping down the already clean bar top. It’s the truth. Since telling Chief that I’m leaving I haven’t had time to really think about where I want to go. The safest bet would be somewhere north. Somewhere Eddie wouldn’t think to look for me. I go with the generic answer, “Somewhere. Anywhere. Just... away from here.”
His eyebrows pull together, and I quickly realize it was a stupid move. “You running from something, butterfly?”
The question is so direct that I almost drop the rag I’m holding. I look up at him, and there’s something in his eyes that makes me want to tell him everything. But I can’t. I barely know this man.
“Aren’t we all running from something?” I counter, forcing a smile.
He doesn’t smile back. Just keeps looking at me with those stormy eyes that feel like they can see right down to my soul. “Some more than others.”
Before I can respond, a loud whistle cuts through the noise of the clubhouse. We both turn to see Morph standing by the door, two fingers in his mouth. When he drops his hand, he calls out, “Who’s coming to Heaven’s Door? First round’s on me!”
A chorus of hoots and hollers follows his announcement, and several brothers immediately start heading for the door, eager to hit the strip club.
“You going?” I ask Rambler, nodding toward the exodus.
He looks back at me, his expression unreadable. “No.”
My brows hit the roof. “No?”
“No.” He shakes his head before taking another sip of his beer. “Rather stay here and talk to you.”
My heart skips a beat. There’s no beating around the bush with this guy. And I have to admit. I really freaking like that about him.
In the six months that I’ve been here, I can’t remember a single time a brother has turned down a trip to the strip club to hang out with me instead. I’m usually the backup plan. No, scratch that. I’m always the backup plan. The easy lay when they strike out with the girls at Heaven’s Door.
“Seriously?” The word slips out before I can stop it.
Rambler arches a dark brow. “Are you that surprised that I’d rather spend time with you than watch strippers hang upside down on a pole?”
I shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I mean, kinda. Yeah.”
His jaw tightens, and something dark flashes in his eyes. “The men around here are fucking idiots.”
A surprised laugh escapes me. “You’re going to make enemies talking like that.”
“I don’t care.” He leans forward slightly. “They don’t see what I see.”
My heart skips a beat and I swallow.
“And what’s that?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I move so my face is right in front of his.
His eyes dart back and forth between mine. “A beautiful woman who deserves to be the first choice. Who deserves to be worshipped like a queen. A woman who shouldn’t be any motherfucker’s backup plan.”
Holy. Shit.
My jaw feels like it drops to the sand-covered floor.
I don’t even know what to say to that. I’m utterly freaking speechless.
The door slams as the last of the strip club crowd leaves, and suddenly the clubhouse is almost empty.
Only a handful of people are scattered around, and most of them are focused on their own conversations or the pool game still going on in the corner.
Rambler glances around, then looks back at me. “Come upstairs with me.”
