I’d moved to Entrance to get away from my boring, strictly regimented life. I’d never been hit on in a bar, never kissed a stranger, never rode on the back of a motorcycle or done anything I shouldn’t have done. I was so dull, it was a wonder that I didn’t put myself to sleep.
So, with renewed energy and a kick of pure enthusiasm, I skipped into the bar to tell my new friends that I was leaving. When I approached our group of tall tables, everyone was still there but they’d collected a few more people. One of them was crowding Tay—which was easy to do considering her size and then, considering his own—and he wore a black leather vest embroidered with the image of a skull that dissolved into brilliantly detailed angel wings. It was a striking and disturbing image, almost too beautiful to represent a motorcycle club. The ‘Fallen MC’ was patched above the winged-skull and, if there had been any doubt, when the tall man turned towards me as I approached, it was obvious that he belonged to the outlaw band of brothers that silently ruled the province. This was obvious because he was a tall, broad-shouldered man with aggressive muscles that bulged under his black tee, a thick albeit beautifully groomed beard that partially hid the massive scar that sliced from the top of his left eye, ran behind a black eye patch and reemerged across his cheek to disappear in the hair covering his jaw. I’d never seen a man with such a disfiguring scar, let alone a man without an eye and I was struck dumb not with horror but curiosity. I’d learned a long time ago that my curiosity could get me in some serious trouble, so I quickly composed myself and walked up to the duo as if they were my best friends.
The one-eyed man stared me down with his single, dark brown eye as if daring me to be disturbed. I had the feeling he enjoyed frightening people.
I smiled at him. “Hi, you must be Cy. I’m Cressida Irons. It’s nice to meet a friend of Tayline’s.”
Cy stared at me for what felt like forever before his glare lessened—though didn’t leave completely—and he tipped his chin at me. I realized that it was the only acknowledgment I was going to get and I was okay with that.
When I turned to look at Tay, she was trying to rein in a smile.
“I’m leaving,” I said, glad that Tay had her beau to distract her from my departure and that Rainbow was nowhere to be seen.
I’d only known them a day, but I had a feeling those two had already inducted me into their sacred sisterhood and I also had a feeling they didn’t mess around with their girl’s-night-out commandments so letting a fellow girl friend leave on the back of some stranger’s motorcycle would probably not be okay with them.
There was a small voice of reason in the back of my head that reminded me of the last time I’d left a bar with a random stranger. If no one had known where I’d gone, that night would have ended a lot differently for me. A lot worse.
So, I quickly leaned in to tell Tay, “I’m going on a ride with one of the bikers. Say bye to Rainbow for me. I’ll text you when I get home safe, okay?”
“You have my number,” she said but she looked uneasy. “Which biker?”
Before I could answer, Cy moved closer to her, knocking her knees apart with his wide hips so he could settle between them. When she struggled slightly, his hands clamped down on her hips to still her.
His woman secured, Cy looked at me and grunted, “Leavin’ too. Later.”
I smiled again at him, this time genuinely because I thought he was funny. “Later,” I echoed with a chin lift before I grabbed my purse from Tay’s chair and headed out the front doors.
In the moment when I was pushing the door open, I worried that King had decided not to give me a ride, that he realized he was wasting his time on a no-fun, dull-as-death woman who wouldn’t know how to live even if she was given a second lease on life. The panic that followed that highly depressing thought swept through me, spiking my adrenaline so that I ended up pushing the door too hard and spilling out into the street with what looked like—and was—desperation.
Happily, and unhappily because I had just made a fool of myself, King was there. He sat on his huge Harley in the exact same pose he had that day in the parking lot. He was even wearing the same outfit, worn jeans that fit him like a woman’s dream, clunky motorcycle boots that were surprisingly sexy, and a new tee, this one a dark grey that made his pale eyes glow like mercury.