Saving Dallas (Saving Dallas 1)

I grabbed my clutch and emptied the contents on the table. My cell phone fell out showing I had absolutely no missed calls or messages. It made me sad to know that the only person I spoke to regularly was my assistant, Lindsey. She was the closest thing I had to a friend, although we never talked outside of work. I slipped my credit card, along with a little cash and my license into the back pocket of my jeans and sat my phone back on the table. I walked to the laundry room, making sure Neo had plenty of food and water, and that the dog door was accessible.

“Dallas!” I heard Luke yell.

“I’m in here,” I yelled back to him, filling Neo’s bowl with food.

“Sorry to rush, but you about ready?” Luke asked, coming to grab the large bag out of my hand.

“Yep, all set,” I said, leading us out of the laundry room and back into the kitchen.

“Don’t you need your phone?” he asked, holding my cell phone in his hand.

“Nah, I only use it during the week anyway,” I said nonchalantly.

“Well what if someone calls?” Luke asked, seeming amused at my lack of need for such a popular piece of technology.

“They won’t.” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice as I busied myself in the kitchen avoiding eye contact.

“Dallas,” Luke said, walking up behind me and turning me to face him. “I never want you to go anywhere without your phone, ever. This is very important, do you understand?” I nodded my head, still keeping my eyes from his. “I’m putting my number in your phone and I’m going to call myself so I have yours.” Less than a minute later I heard his phone ringing in his pocket. “There, now I can talk to you anytime I want,” he said smiling down at me.

Warmth flooded my body when he reached his hand up to move the hair off my face. He leaned down, kissing my head then grabbed my hand and we headed out.

As we headed out the drive and back towards Luke’s, I couldn’t resist the temptation of asking him to tell me something about him, even though I had promised not to pry. I decided to keep the conversation light in hopes that he would open up on his own just as I had. “Have you been riding bikes for long?” I asked, turning to him admiring his profile.

“Ever since I was old enough to climb on one,” he responded smiling. “My grandfather was the founding president of the Devil’s Renegades Motorcycle Club. He passed away less than two years ago and since, I have taken over the gavel.”

“Gavel?” I asked, fully intrigued.

“The presidency. When he stepped down about 6 months before he passed, we voted that the Vice President be awarded the position. The VP refused and nominated me. Everyone was in agreement, so I was given the presidency and the opportunity to carry on my grandfather’s legacy.”

“I bet he is very proud of you,” I said, smiling reassuringly.

“I don’t know about that. Times have changed. My Pops was pretty old school. I don’t think he would agree with some of the decisions I make,” he said to me in a voice not much more than a whisper.

“What about your mom and dad?” I asked trying to change the subject because I could tell he was becoming uncomfortable.

“Let’s just say my dad did not follow in my Pops footsteps and wasn’t really happy about me doing it either,” he said, laughing a little and lightening the atmosphere. “My mom is great. A true southern belle is what some would call her. You remind me of her,” he said turning to look at me.

I laughed, “You are kidding right? Honey, I’m far from a southern belle. They’re charming, classy and refined and I am none of those things.” Most people would think so by my appearance on the outside and I could even convince some, mostly my clients, that I was a real lady. I was not. I had been broken and hurt and had a past that would make some of the worst kinds of people look like saints.

“I think you are all of those things,” Luke said, with no trace of humor on his face. I just smiled in response. It was hard to argue with him when he was being so sincere, and honestly I didn’t want him to know the real me. I wanted him to believe I was all the things he thought I was.

“So, tell me about tonight,” I said, that same chill returning that I had earlier when I thought of being on his bike.

“Our club is hosting a benefit for a local boy who has brain cancer. We are going to a couple bars around town gathering the donations that were taken for him and then we are going to his house to visit with him.”