A bunch of the guys shout and cluck out some cock-a-doodle-do noises to draw everyone’s attention to our display.
Although her cheeks turn a little pinker, Shelby’s not intimidated by the chatter. She twists her fingers in my T-shirt and yanks me closer, sliding her lips against mine for a long, deliberate kiss. I cup her cheek and tip her head back, ignoring the louder taunts.
“Shoulda claimed you like that in front of everyone when we got here,” I whisper against her lips.
A devilish smile lights up her normally angelic face. “Next time.”
Fuck me, but that promise will be the only thing that’ll make me want to return to Washington.
Shelby
The hotel parking lot’s empty except for our RV, my band’s van and Dawson’s bus.
Rooster leads the guys in a lazy circle through the lot, pulling up behind the RV and shutting down the bike.
He and Jigsaw are discussing loading up the truck when someone calls out my name.
Squinting toward the hotel, I spot Trent waving and jogging over the pavement.
I wave back and meet him halfway.
“Have fun on your time off?” he asks, giving me a quick hug.
“I did.”
“Get any writing done?”
Hoo-boy, Trent’s got that eager beaver, wild-eyed look.
“No, but I have a few ideas floating around.” I twirl my upright finger around my ear a few times.
“I have something,” he promises. “I’ll play it for you when we get to the arena.”
“You don’t want to send me a file or somethin’?”
“Not this one.”
“Okay.”
He turns away from me, walking toward the guys. “You need help loading up?” he asks Rooster.
Normally, Rooster would decline offers of help from anyone except his club brothers. But I’ve noticed he’s been trying to include or at least get to know Trent a little better lately, which I appreciate.
“Sure.” He motions Trent closer.
While I’m watching the guys at the back of the RV, Dex steps alongside me. “You all right after yesterday?” he asks in a low voice.
Startled by the question, I peer up at him. “I think so. Are you?”
“Yeah, darlin’. It caught us by surprise. Shouldn’t have happened when you were with us.” He glances away. “That’s not a regular thing.”
Is Dex worried I’ll somehow blame Rooster or the club? “Rooster’s had me around a couple different clubs now, and that’s the first time any trouble popped off.”
He nods and pats my shoulder. “Ready for tonight?”
“Not yet. But I will be.”
His lips twitch.
“Let’s hit the road!” Rooster calls out.
Dex waves at him. All the guys convene to decide what positions they want to take. Pants and Steer decide to ride behind the RV. Jiggy and Dex plan to ride in front.
Pants gingerly touches his shoulder. “If I need to pull over, I got Steer with me and don’t have to worry about your giant cage barreling down on me.”
“No man left behind. If you need to stop, let us know,” Rooster says.
“Nah.” Pants lifts his chin at me. “She’s gotta be there on time. I might need to rest for a bit. That’s all.”
“Why don’t you ride in the truck with us?” I ask Pants.
He stares at me as if I asked him to strip off his clothes and hang onto the truck’s front grill like our naked hood ornament.
“Thanks, Shelby, but I’ll be okay.”
Trent asks about Steer’s bike. Thrilled with the possibility of popping Trent’s Harley cherry, Steer shows off his ride. Pants and Dex head to their bikes.
“All right.” Rooster claps his hands and rolls his shoulders, clearly eager to get on the road. “We ready?”
Jiggy salutes him.
“I’m so ready to move away from this West Coast tour of all my boyfriend’s exes,” I tease.
Jiggy grins like a devil. “But songbird, the East Coast, hell the entire country—”
“I will motherfuckin’ end you if you finish that thought,” Rooster warns.
The pained expression stretched across Jiggy’s face says he’s having a hard time deciding his fate.
“Jigsaw,” I say patiently, “is messin’ with Rooster really worth hurtin’ my feelings?” I pull an extreme sad face to drive home the guilt.
His devilish laughter cuts off. “Shit. No.”
“Go check that everything’s locked down tight and quit running your mouth,” Rooster orders.
Once we’re alone, he pulls me close. “You really that upset about—”
“No, I just didn’t want you to maim him.” I glance down. “That doesn’t mean I want to hear stories about all the women you’ve banged from California to New York and everywhere in between.”
“I don’t—”
“Can we drop it?” I flash an evil smile and poke his chest. “It’s all good. Soon enough, we’ll be on my turf.”
His gaze narrows. “And?”
“And,” I raise my arms above my head and glide into a few quick cowboy waltz steps while singing, “All my exes live in Texas.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rooster
We work our way back to Texas one show at a time.
A night in Spokane. Two nights near Boise. When we arrive in Denver, I make my courtesy call to the president of the Savage Dragons MC.