His brows shot up, and he looked over her head to Ghost. “She’s a feisty one, ain’t she?”
“Yup,” she heard Ghost reply, and her head whipped around to him.
“I am not!”
“Oh hell yeah, you are.” He grinned, taking a sip of his coffee.
The men continued shoveling food in their faces, occasionally pausing long enough to talk, or more accurately make smartass comments back and forth to each other.
It wasn’t long before their plates arrived. Her eyes got big when her order was plopped down in front of her. French toast stuffed with strawberries, and topped with whipped cream and powdered sugar.
She didn’t waste anytime digging in. At the first bite, she moaned in delight. “Hmm. It’s super yummy.”
“Did she just say super yummy?” the man called Hammer asked.
“Why yes she did, and I agree,” Shades replied with a grin.
When they’d finished with their food and were relaxing over cups of coffee, Ghost turned to her, suggesting, “Maybe you should ride in the chase van with the prospect.”
“I’m fine to ride.”
“Bullshit. You’re hung over, scraped and your ass is sore.”
That brought grins out all around the table.
“Oh, really? Why’s her ass sore?” Blood asked.
“Yeah, what’d you do to her last night?” Sandman added.
“Shut the fuck up.” Then he swung his gaze back to her. “You’re in the van.”
She huffed out a breath.
“Ooo, the ‘woman huff’. Which, in my experience, is never a good thing,” Griz teased.
Ghost arched a brow at her, ignoring his brother. “Don’t give me any lip.”
“Fine!” she snapped.
“Ooo, that’s even worse. When a chick says fine, ain’t nobody gonna be fine.”
Shades got up, chuckling. “Let’s go, boys.”
They all moved out to the bikes at the curb. The men started mounting up. Ghost stopped next to his bike and held her helmet out to her. She took it, staring up at him.
“Do I have to ride with Yammer again? He talked my ear off the other day.”
“How do you think he got his name? Because he won’t shut up. Yammer, yammer, yammer. I seriously have my doubts if the brothers are gonna to be able to get past that when it comes time to vote him in.”
“Please don’t make me ride with him again,” she whined pathetically.
Ghost grinned at her and reached an arm around her, his hand slapping down and grabbing her ass cheek for a squeeze.
“Oww,” she moaned at the reminder of how sore she was.
“You need more convincing than this?” He gave another squeeze.
“Okay, okay. I give. I’ll ride in the bloody van with Chatty Cathy.”