“Thanks, darlin’,” Tracker said, shooting her a wink. She fluttered her eyelashes at him and flounced away to tend to the next table.
Curly grunted.
“Are you trying to draw attention to yourself?” Brooke asked as she popped a pretzel between her glossy lips. “Because being the grumpiest person in the bar is a good way to do that.”
“Maybe if you’d stayed away like I wanted, I’d be in a better mood.” And maybe if she’d stop drawing attention to her mouth, he could stop imagining it sliding up and down his dick, leaving a shiny pink trail.
She snorted at that, completely unphased by his shit attitude. “You are a sore loser.”
Tyler burst out laughing. “Oh, man, does she have your number, cuz. Keep giving him hell, honey,” he said as he clinked the neck of his bottle against Brookes.
With a self-satisfied smirk, she tipped her fresh beer to her lips and sipped a few times. Pissed as he was with her presence, even he could admit he enjoyed the woman’s company. And he sure as fuck enjoyed looking at her. Especially that throat working as she swallowed the beer. Gave him all sorts of filthy thoughts of her swallowing something else.
Namely him.
After a few more minutes of silently observing the interaction at the bar, Brooke began to drum her nails on the tabletop. When she added a leg bounce, Curly had to intervene.
“Hey,” he said, sliding his hand on top of hers. She immediately stilled and twisted to face him, wide-eyed. “Relax. It’s going good. If this is stressing you—”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t you dare suggest I leave.”
With a chuckle, he shook his head. “No, ma’am. I learned my lesson there, and I value my balls too much.” Earlier, she’d threatened to unman him if he pulled any stunts to keep her from joining them. So he’d had no choice but to drop Harley off at Brooke’s house to hang out with her boyfriend, Ray. Then he’d given Brooke a ride to the bar. “I was gonna say if you need a minute you can run to the bathroom and splash some water on your face.”
“Clearly you’ve never worn make-up,” she said with a laugh, “but I think I might take a minute to breathe. Watching them is making me want to crawl out of my skin. I keep waiting for the signal.”
Once he’d gotten an invite to a dog fight, Jinx was supposed to slap Prick on the back twice before making his way to the parking lot. Then they’d know this had been a successful venture. And they could get the hell out of there.
“Want me to come with you?” he asked, which make Ty crack up.
“Pretty sure she can find her way to the potty by herself, man. Who the fuck knew you were such a mother hen?”
He expected to see the same mocking humor in Brooke’s gaze, but instead, he found the warmth of appreciation. “I’ve got it,” she whispered, squeezing his arm. “But thank you. Be right back, boys.”
As she walked away, he could still feel the heat of her small but strong hand on his skin. Brooke was a simple woman. So different than most women he’d spent time with. Granted, it’d been years since he’d had one, but the women who hung around the Outlaws dressed to attract the brothers' attention. That meant tiny tops that had most of their tits on display. Short, tight skirts that gave a man a glimpse of what waited for them when they bent over. Heels sky-high worn to make their legs appear longer and shapelier no matter how hard they were to walk in, and enough make-up to make them look like flawless dolls.
Brooke wore distressed jeans, a black fitted tank top, and flip-flops. Her toes had a light coral polish, but her fingernails were bare. He’d yet to see her wear a piece of jewelry beyond stud earrings. Yet she had his dick harder than any of those sweet butts at his club ever did. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the soft denim cupped her ass like it was making an offering to him.
There was an innate confidence in the way she carried herself. Who knew he’d be so attracted to a self-assured woman? Yet he was. Though a few times, at her core, he glimpsed a vulnerability he wanted to squash so no matter the situation, she could remain the kick-ass woman he’d met. He’d never understand men like her husband. Who would want to squash all that made her the rockin’ woman she was?
“If you stare at her ass any harder, you likely to pop a blood vessel,” Ty said with a laugh.
“Fuck off. Just making sure she gets there okay.”
“Mm-hmm. Whatever you say, cuz. It is a treacherous journey.”
“So I’ve been thinking,” Tracker said. He set his beer down and rested his elbows on the table.