Making Her His (Beating the Biker 1)
Page 76
“You got it. No problem.”
Luke wished other people in his life had the same philosophy because from the front window of the shop he saw Deirdre pull up in her red mustang. From the look on her face she wasn’t happy. Shit. He thought he’d smoothed things over with her since the last disaster at his apartment. He wondered what was bothering her now.
Deirdre came in the office through the front door, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her long, blue jean-clad legs walking in a pair of high red stilettos. She took off her designer sunglasses and gave him a serious look. “Luke.”
“Hi, Babe, what’s up?”
“Have you made a decision? About Saturday?”
Ah, double shit. That stupid wedding thing. Again. He’d already given her a response. But Deirdre being Deirdre didn’t take “no” for an answer.
“I told you, Dee, Saturday’s road trip day. I’m Road Captain. It’s my job to make sure all the logistics are worked out.”
“It’s one Saturday.”
“I told you upfront, from the day the roads are clear of ice and snow until it flies again, Saturdays are spoken for.”
“My sister only gets married once.”
Luke knew that wasn’t true. This was sis’ second marriage. He figured it best to keep silent on this point. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t go.”
“I’d like my boyfriend to be with me.” Her hands went to her hips.
Bad sign. Luke pinched his nose with his fingers. He didn’t want to fight with her. “This isn’t the time or place for this conversation.”
“It never is, is it?”
“This is my place of business, Deirdre. We’ll talk about this later.”
“No, we’ll talk about it now.”
Luke saw his crew had moved to the center of the work bay, shooting glances to the door that led to his office. Luke walked over, and shut the door firmly. “Deirdre, don’t do this here now.” Luke was beginning to feel some heat now. He pointed to the door to the work bay. “My employees are out there listening to every word, and customers can walk in any minute. Go home. I’ll call you later.”
“No! You’ve dodged this since I asked you. Are you going with me or not?”
He inhaled a sharp breath. “You’re pressing me for an answer now? You already know it. It’s no. I’m not going with you. Take anyone you want, but I’m not going to your damn sister’s wedding.”
Deirdre’s face burned fuming red. She stood there tapping one red shoe against the concrete, her arms folded against her chest. “Luke Wade, I’m telling you right now, either you choose your club, or you choose me. I’m tired of being the odd man out.”
“An ultimatum?” Luke shrugged. “I’m not choosing you.”
“But—”
“It’s time you leave,” he said coldly.
Her eyes grew wide, and then narrowed. “Fine, Luke.” She marched to the front of the shop and slammed the door.
Luke stood there a second at his desk, then slapped his empty coffee cup across the room. It landed with a dull thud, the handle breaking off. “Fuck!”
The door to the work bay opened, and Gibs poked his head in. “Everything okay, boss?”
“Get back to work,” growled Luke.
“Okey dokey, boss. But if you want my two cents, good riddance.”
“I didn’t ask you. Now go!”
“Yes, sir!” Gibs shut the door, and Luke bent over to pick up his cup. Damn. It was his favorite coffee cup; the Harley-Davidson black mug, chrome flames rising from the bottom.