Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(19)

“I’m just happy Gwen has chosen a guy with so many delectable friends,” I replied, gazing back over at the bikers who didn’t look at all uncomfortable at being in a woman’s clothing store.

Rosie followed my eyes. “Yeah, the guys are freaking hot,” she sighed. “It’s a shame my chances of getting into any of their pants are hampered by the fact my brother would most likely cut the dick off any of his brothers who touched me.”

I gazed at her with sympathy. “That seriously sucks, babe. Having men like that in such close proximity and not even being able to sample their wares?” I shook my head. “It’s a crime to humanity. I’ll be sure to give you explicit details of what happens when I get into bed with one of them...or all of them.” I winked at her and they all laughed.

I spent the rest of the night serving drinks, chatting to the locals and drinking cocktails. I also managed to give Gwennie a good-natured ribbing about her hot guy faceoff and subsequent make out session with a sexy biker. Not that I saw her make out with said biker but by the looks of her when she came back in, she definitely played tongue hockey with Cade. Not to mention the panty-dropping kiss he slapped on her once they got back. I think she had been officially claimed. I was happy for her. She deserved it.

Despite her reservations I think she was going to go for it. I supported her wholeheartedly. That was of course, after I had gotten my Uncle Garrett to get the lowdown on this Cade Fletcher and the “Sons of Templar”.

He had friends in high and low places and didn’t ask any questions. What he had come up with was slightly troubling; they were on ATF and Fed radars for suspected gun running, but hadn’t been charged with anything in years.

Cade had priors, but again he hadn’t been charged for over two years. More importantly, his rap sheet had not contained anything to do with hurting women. In fact, one assault charge had been for protecting a woman. Granted, he had broken the jaw of the guy he assaulted. And the arm.

Not that lack of evidence proved he didn’t hurt women, it could simply mean he didn’t get caught. But I had met him. And Gwen had given me in depth descriptions of their encounters. Although he was no doubt involved in some nefarious things with his club I got a good feeling about him. And about the way he looked at Gwen. It was intense, that was for sure, and it was something that would make my panties set on fire if it was directed at me, but it was good.

Not like the way Jimmy looked at her. Like she was a possession. An object. I had never liked him. From the moment I met him something didn’t seem right with him. His smiles never met his eyes; he was too charming. But I didn’t say anything to Gwen. I didn’t even follow my gut and look into him. I knew Gwen was besotted with him and didn’t want to invade her privacy. It would also put a huge strain on our friendship. So I said nothing. Well, maybe not nothing, but I didn’t scream at her to run from the sociopath as quick as her Manolos would take her.

That’s what I should have done. It was something that would forever be on my conscience. So I wasn’t taking any chances. I would watch Cade carefully, although I didn’t think he would be a danger to Gwen. Her heart and her capacity for how many orgasms she could handle may be in danger though. I would do everything in my power to make sure my best friend didn’t get hurt again.

Just because I had a watchful eye on Cade, did not mean I wasn’t glancing at my own biker. I had caught his eyes a couple of times during the night and he had grinned at me. I hadn’t grinned back, but I think my vagina had. By the end of the night I was convinced that our silent conversation had resulted in a mutual agreement. One that meant I was going home with him tonight. And Gwen had informed me that she wasn’t coming home. We were both getting laid tonight. High five for Team Abrams and Alexandra.

The party had wound down; only our newly formed girl posse and the small group of leather clad gods remained. After I had cleaned up my workstation (okay, cleaning up accounted to me draining the last of my drink and sweeping everything to one side), I had expected to see the sexy surfer again for more beer. Since he was a man at a clothing store he would be needing booze, but all of the men had sat on their single beers for the entire night. That had puzzled me. I owned the joint and I was halfway to blotto. I speculated they didn’t want the cops in attendance, who had been watching them, to have any reason to pull them over.

I had met all of the other men on the night of Rosie’s party. Heck, I had grinded up on Dwayne (christened this because of his uncanny resemblance to my crush The Rock) half of the night. Unfortunately, despite his similar looks to my celebrity crush, there was not much of a spark. Sure, he was hot and I wouldn’t kick him out of bed, but I didn’t want to climb him like a tree either. The same could not be said for Brock. He was someone I hadn’t seen at the barbeque so Rosie had introduced us when our two little groups had merged.

“Amy, this is Brock. He was MIA on the day of the barbeque and he has only just made it back into my good graces,” she teased, smirking at him.

“Oh, we’ve met and had a discussion on Amy’s lack of future in the bartending field,” Brock remarked, face blank but tone teasing.

“I don’t know, brother, if our bar had a woman that looked like that behind it I think I might just take up residence there.” Lucky winked at me.

“Like you don’t already,” Dwayne shot at him.

I smiled at the kid warmly and raised a triumphant eyebrow at Brock. Of all the people I had met in the club Lucky was my favorite. He was a freaking funny guy, which was interesting since on first glance he looked like he drop-kicked puppies for fun. He was Hispanic with a bald head, harsh features and tattoos covering everything but his face and neck. Once he smiled, which was often, all of his menace melted away.