Diesel (Savage Brothers MC-Tennessee 2)

“What’s up?”

It’s best I get it in my head that she’s a user like the others and that she can’t be trusted. It’s better to learn it now. It will cure me of this undeniable hunger I have to possess her.

“Did you fix my tire?” she asks, and I’m blindsided. Of all the things she could have asked that wasn’t what I was expecting.

She’s right. I did fix her tire, but then I’m also the one who ruined it. She probably hasn’t noticed I put four new tires on. It wasn’t an easy task either. I had to pay bank because I did it at night. I replaced the two front ones first. I took them off after dark, got Ryan to ride with me to the garage and paid the mechanic there to balance and mount new tires on her rims—all before bringing them back and putting them on myself. I repeated the same process the following night with her back tires. It was going overboard, but her tires were shit and I had ruined one anyway—I figure I owed her.

“It was nothing,” I shrug.

Rory surprises me again by hugging me close. She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses the side of my neck.

“It was a lot and I appreciate it.”

“It was nothing, Gorgeous,” I tell her, instantly missing her when she steps out of my arms.

“It is. I wanted to invite you and Ryan over for dinner as a thank you,” she says, looking at me, but not looking at my face. I’ve learned that avoiding eye contact is something Rory does when she’s embarrassed or unsure of herself or the situation. I like that I can read her that easy, I just hope it’s not all a lie.

“Rory, I told you, I don’t want—”

“But I knew that wouldn’t be something you would accept,” she hurries on, not letting me object and coloring only slightly when I start to talk. “So, I did the next best thing,” she says and then she turns to her car, picking up a rectangular pan that’s covered in aluminum foil.

“What’s this?” I ask, taking the still warm pan from her. I didn’t need to ask, because the minute I take the pan into my possession I can smell the sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies.

“I made you some cookies,” she shrugs. "I’m not a big baker, but I do some things pretty good. I’ve been told my cookies are my best, so…” she trails off. “There you go. Anyways thank you. I didn’t know what kind to make, I figured all men like chocolate chip. If you don’t maybe Ryan does,” she rattles, and you can tell now that her nerves are taking over her mouth.

“Rory—”

“You don’t have to tell him that I made them of course. You can say you made them, or maybe tell them you bought the mix at the store if he knows that you can’t cook. Not that I know if you can cook or not… or rather bake, but it’s just that most men I’ve met don’t so I figured you didn’t and if you didn’t—”

I put the cookies back on her hood and I pull her against me. My lips go down on her mouth to stop her words because the way she’s talking and spitting them out we could be here until midnight while she tells me why she thinks I can’t cook.

“I love the gift and I’m sure Ryan will too. Thank you, Gorgeous,” I tell her as I pull away.

“You’re welcome,” she says blushing, her green eyes slightly glazed and staring at my lips. My dick goes hard and I want to push things with her, but I need to think about Rory and figure out where my head is with this woman. I can’t afford to fuck up. I have to think of Ryan.

“I… I guess I should go. I have the afternoon shift at the store today,” she says clearly uncomfortable.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I tell her and she nods.

Like a chump, I let her walk away… my head too fucked up to do what I really want and carry her to my bed.17Rory“You are quiet tonight, Gorgeous,” Noah says into my ear. I’m lying in bed with my cell to my ear, because Noah just called.

Hearing his voice while I’m in bed is dangerous. I’m trying to keep my head around him and it’s not easy. It’s one of the reasons that I have been quiet tonight. I have a lot on my mind and it all revolves around a man I want to fix, but should stay away from. A man I want, but that I know I will never have.

“Just tired tonight,” I tell him.

“Rough day at work?”

“Not really. I was on my feet a lot, but it wasn’t bad. I just got up early.”