Talkin' Trash (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 2)

Tyson let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

I had no doubt in my mind that Tyson would be back. He’d hounded me for months until I’d finally given in. He wouldn’t give up just because Linc told him to, would he?

“Hope you feel better, Conleigh,” Tyson rushed out. “Bye.”

Then without my precious California Roll that I’d only had one bite of to help me forget about this debacle, I watched Tyson get into his stupid little smart car and practically peel out of the parking lot.

I was sure if his car had been capable of it, he would have.

I turned to Linc and felt my stomach jolt at the smile that lit his face.

He was fully bearded today—not out-of-control beard, but well-maintained I’m-sexy-as-fuck beard.

He had straight white teeth that were exposed by his smile, and the creases at the corners of those green eyes were on display.

He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans that fit him like they were made specifically for him. They were snug in all the right places, and I could make out the shape of every bit of muscled flesh underneath of them.

The plain navy-blue t-shirt he had on did nothing to hide his magnificence, either.

He was wild—savage, really—and looked like the biker he was.

“Where’s your vest?” I blurted.

Linc’s smile fell. “Had an incident with an over-zealous fan last week, and she ripped the damn thing. I bought a new one, but I’ve got someone putting all my patches on this week.”

My mouth fell open in affront. “I was instructed when I first started at the ER to never cut the vest off of a biker,” I told him. “Isn’t that vest sacred to you?”

Linc’s lips twitched. “If it’s life and death, and you need to cut the vest, most of us won’t have a problem with it. Yes, it’s sacred to us, but we like our lives a little more than we like the vest. Do what you gotta do…unless it’s a one percenter. Then don’t touch his cut at all. In fact, you should probably work around it or let one of his MC brothers take it off him if need be. And it’s not a vest, it’s a cut.”

I hadn’t thought about that.

“Do we normally get a lot of one percenters here?” I questioned.

I hadn’t always known about bikers.

In fact, when my mother had met Steel, I’d been in awe because not only was he a biker, but he was also a cop.

But Steel was a regular guy, doing regular things.

I’d thought they were all like that TV show where they ran guns and did drugs while fucking woman after woman while their old ladies were at home raising their children.

But he’s proved to me that most bikers weren’t like that…most.

“No,” he answered my question. “Honestly, we get less one percenters around here now that we’re here than we did even five years ago. Though you’re in Kilgore, and there’s also another unofficial MC who kind of helps keep the area safe.”

“Who?” I asked, surprised to hear of an unofficial club in Kilgore, let alone an official one like Linc’s.

“They call themselves Free,” he answered, standing up. “Do they have chicken in there?”

I thought about that for a moment. “I think so.”

“What about steak?” he pushed.

“Yes,” I said. “They have steak in some of the rolls, so I’m sure they can make you a steak to eat on its own.”

“Good,” he grunted. “Let’s go finish lunch.”

I didn’t bother to tell him that I hadn’t even really started lunch. I had one bite of my California Roll, and it was the end piece, the smallest part.

I also didn’t bother arguing with him.

I was there, I was still hungry, and I had no ride home. I wasn’t a stupid girl by any means.

I sighed as I followed him back inside the sushi place I’d just come out of moments before and tried not to let my eyes stray down past his waist.

That way, I could tell myself that I wasn’t staring at his ass, I was staring at his very well-defined back.

It was okay to look, wasn’t it?

Looking didn’t constitute feelings.

“Table for two,” I heard Linc say to the woman who had seated Tyson and me not twenty minutes before.

She glanced at me, her eyes widened, and I found myself flushing.

Linc’s eyes were mischievous when he said, “We have an open relationship. I don’t mind when she sees other men as long as she comes home to me.”

I sighed and followed behind the startled server, happy when she led us to a table next to a window that overlooked the parking lot.

That way I could people watch and not Linc watch.

The less I looked at him, the better.

I was already going to have to ride home with him. I had to prepare myself for having my body pressed to his.