Blood & Bones: Whip (Blood Fury MC 11)

“There’s gotta be other dealersh—”

“Do you want to call every damn dealership? I googled it. In case you didn’t know, one hundred and ninety five Indian dealerships exist in the States.” She pointed at the phone. “Have at it. I called the largest ones and all the ones in the surrounding area.”

He rubbed at his forehead. “Christ,” he muttered and glanced at Fallon again. “Guessin’ you’re gonna be stuck in Manning Grove for probably a week. Better call and let anyone waitin’ on you know.”

“No one is waiting on me.”

“No one at all?” Reilly asked with her eyebrows raised and her lips curled up slightly at the very ends. “No boyfriend, husband, kids or anything?”

“No.”

What the fuck was Reilly up to?

“How about your job?” she asked next.

“No.”

Silence filled the office.

“Won’t this fuck up your vacation?” Whip asked. At this point, he was now certain Fallon wasn’t a fed. If she was, she was a really damn good actress. But she never did explain why she’d been in the area.

“Not at all since I’m not on vacation.” She locked gazes with him. “I’m not expected anywhere anytime soon. No one is waiting for me. My schedule is completely clear. If I have to wait… Well, then I have to wait. I don’t have a choice, now do I?”

She was taking this hiccup way too well. Most customers would be screaming and having a tantrum if they didn’t live locally. Or if they were local and didn’t have another vehicle to get around.

Customers didn’t like to be inconvenienced and usually took it out on the people trying to help them. There had been plenty of times one of them had to step in to help Reilly deal with a screaming, entitled customer, even though it wasn’t her fault that their vehicle needed repairs. Now Rev usually kept one ear on the office when a customer was in with her, even though Reilly was pretty good at handling irate customers on her own.

Dealing with an abusive ex who almost beat her to death had coated her spine in steel. Whip had seen her pull that spine right out of her back and use it to crack one of those rude customers right upside the head. She knew how to put them in their place without them realizing that was what she was doing until it was already done.

Whip smothered his grin on how hot it was when it came to a badass woman. That shit made his blood run south. Maybe that was why he’d hooked up with Billie. The sweet butt said what she meant and took no shit. In fact, if you gave the woman shit, she’d take it and shove it down your throat until you choked on it.

Billie also didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought about her. She owned who she was and what she was into. If anyone else had a problem with it, then that was their problem, not hers.

But here and now, he didn’t want Fallon thinking he was grinning about her being stuck in town for at least the next few days, if not longer.

Fallon rose from her chair. “Whelp. That settles it. I guess I’ll need a rental car. I might as well explore the area while I’m stuck here for a bit. Do you have a hotel you can recommend? I’m sure the hotel concierge can find me a rental.”

The hotel concierge? Rental car? Where did she think she was?

He began talking before Reilly did. “Can recommend a good motel. No concierge there, though. You’d be on your own.”

She frowned. “I thought I saw a hotel on the square in town when I rode through.”

“You did. But it’s twice as much as the motel.”

The frown that creased her forehead disappeared. “I don’t mind paying if it’s worth it.”

They always tried to steer out-of-town folk toward The Grove Inn. “It ain’t. Overpriced. The motel staff is a lot friendlier.”

“I don’t need friendly, just competent.”

Reilly made a sharp noise at the back of her throat like she wanted tagged in and Whip shot her a warning look. She lifted both palms and said, “I lived and worked at that motel for a while. It’s more laid-back and much friendlier than the hotel. I mean, it’s not fancy five-star accommodations, but it’s clean and well maintained.”

Fallon frowned. “Are you getting a kickback from recommending the motel?”

Kind of. The fatter the club’s coffers, the better. The club being flush benefited them all.

“Not at all. We just know who runs it. It’s a locally-owned business versus some faceless corporation,” Reilly explained. “We try to support the local businesses and economy first.”

Damn, she was fucking good. Like her sister Reese, Reilly was fucking smart, way smarter than Rev or Whip, but he could see she was up to something.