Page 4 of Biker

He smirks. “That’s me.”

“Okay,” I glance around, some of the anxiety starting to come back. Is he lying? Is he not really the man I’m meeting? Then how did he know my name? My hands are clasped together on top of the table, and I start to fidget with my fingers.

When a large, warm hand covers mine, my movements stop and a feeling of peace washes over me. My eyes snap up to meet his and he’s staring at our joined hands with a look of awe on his face before it relaxes into something knowing and almost smug.

“Bronco is my road name,” he explains.

“Oh,” I exhale, “of course.”

Bronco chuckles and his hazel eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks at me. He’s probably a few years older than my 27, but not by much. The laugh lines around his eyes tells me he’s not a stranger to laughing and smiling. It puts me at ease a little.

“Do you know anything about the Devil’s Saints Motorcycle Club?”

“No,” I shake my head, “I’m not from here. I just moved here a few months ago and I haven’t had the chance to get out a whole lot or get all the nitty gritty.”

“And my MC must fall under the nitty gritty?” He arches an eyebrow at me in challenge and something flashes in his eyes. He leans forward and I get a whiff of his spicy cologne, or maybe it’s all him, I don’t know. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“No?” I feel my cheeks heating as embarrassment washes over me. I’m an independent woman who moved all the way across the country to further my career. I’m not clueless or classless.

Get your shit together, woman.

I clear my throat. “I wasn’t judging, I was simply pointing out that your MC wasn’t on the just moved to Seattle tour,” I throw a little sass his way, wondering how he’ll take it.

Bronco laughs, the sound hearty, masculine, and oh so fucking delicious. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough, Starlet.”

I tilt my head to the side as he makes a motion to someone across the bar, getting their attention before circling the table in the air with his finger. I hadn’t ordered a drink yet because I wasn’t sure if I was staying. It appears I am and I’m not at all disappointed about it or eager to get out of here.

Go fucking figure.

When Bronco’s eyes find mine again, I can’t help but ask, “Starlet?”

“Well, yes,” he looks me up and down and I sit up a little straighter, suddenly wanting to be at my best and not slouched down or something. “You have a classic movie star pin-up thing going on. A starlet.”

“Wow,” I mutter and look away.

When a drink is placed in front of me, it looks like a Manhattan, one of my favorites. I’m a little surprised, especially since a beer is placed in front of Bronco. I look up at the man who delivered it and recognize him as the man who has been behind the bar since I got here. I wonder how he pegged my drink correctly.

My question must be all over my face, because the man winks and informs me, “I have a sixths sense when it comes to beautiful women and their drink of choice.”

I find myself smiling, not at the obvious flirtation, but because there’s something about people using their talents and being right where they belong. “Guess you have the perfect job then,” my words drip with sincerity instead of sarcasm.

He blinks at me and then gives Bronco a pointed look I can’t read before knocking on the tabletop. “You two have a good night and,” he looks back at me, his eyes piercing me with honesty, “if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I nod mutely, trying to figure out that look, as he walks away. Is Bronco a bad guy? I don’t get that vibe at all and while it’s not foolproof, I’ve learned to trust my gut over the years, especially about men. It’s one of those things you learn to rely on when you’re on your own.

“That’s Nero. He’s an enforcer for the club and one of my brothers. He also runs this place along with Rites, our VP.”

The pieces fall together, and I look around the bar through a new lens. “The club owns this bar?”

“Yes,” Bronco confirms, proud as a fucking peacock with his plumage out for the world to see. “We own several businesses throughout the city.” I make a humming sound and Bronco takes a sip of his beer while I take a sip of my own drink and smile. It’s perfect. I glance at Nero and he’s watching me, so I give a small nod which has him winking at me and going back to work. “You know,” my eyes snap to Bronco as he speaks and I realize he’s in my personal space and I don’t mind at all, “Nero doesn’t really warm up to people quickly and there aren’t many who make a good first impression on him.”

“Are you trying to say that’s him warming up to me quickly?” When he nods, his lips curve into a smile while a dimple pops out on one side of his face. My voice is incredulous, “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” he says seriously, his face matching, but his eyes dancing with something else entirely.

I flip some of my hair back over my shoulder with faux haughtiness. “Well, what’s not to like? I’m amazing.”

Bronco barks out a laugh, but it’s not at my expense. “You certainly are, Starlet.”

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