Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(10)

“Bull’s a unique name. Is it short for something? I cannot picture a little baby called Bull,” Lexie continued, oblivious to my sexual fantasies, thank God.

There was a pause. “Road name,” he said weirdly.

Another sidelong glance passed between me and Lexie. Did this guy have a problem stringing a complete sentence together?

“What’s a road name?” Lexie asked. You could tell she was getting a bit more confident now that the shock of ‘Bull’s appearance had worn off. She had stepped forward to get a closer look at what Bull was doing and was leaning against the passenger door.

He glanced up at her. “Like a nickname,” he clipped. A look passed over his face at Lexie’s casual stance and friendly demeanor. It quickly left and he turned his attention back to the tire.

Lexie seemed to be chewing something over in her mind. I wanted to know why he was called Bull. Obviously he was freaking huge and intimidating. But I wondered if it had anything to do with his downstairs area. I knew bikers had nicknames due to their sexual escapades; maybe this was due to the fact he was hung like a bull.

Luckily, Lexie wasn’t thinking about his nether regions.

“What’s your real name? Please tell me it’s something like Tim or Alan. That would be hilarious if someone who looked like you with the name Bull was actually a Tim.”

“Or a Eugene,” I added, deciding to contribute to some form of communication. It was either that or start drooling over his arms.

Lexie nodded. “Gaylord,” she shot back.

I restrained a snort on that one. “Kevin.” We were so on a roll.

Lexie furrowed her brows. “I like the name Kevin.”

I gaped at her. “When have you ever seen a hot guy named Kevin?”

Lexie pondered for a moment. “Kevin Costner!” she declared, sounding victorious.

“Seriously? Okay, let’s forget that he’s sixty for a moment—even in his prime he wasn’t anything to write home about. You’re grasping at straws,” I said. “And we’re getting you some therapy for your older man fetish,” I added with concern.

Lexie scowled at me. “Saying one supremely talented actor was once a very handsome fellow in his prime does not constitute a fetish,” she argued.

“Supremely talented? We’re definitely getting you therapy,” I told her seriously.

I remembered our current company. The realization came with an uncomfortable sensation of heat, feeling his eyes on me. Sure enough, black eyes were darting between Lexie and I. Bull was standing, and the tire was changed. He was staring at us with a blank expression.

“Done,” he declared, ignoring our debate.

“Have you seen Dances with Wolves, Mr. Bull?” Lexie asked him, taking the keys and ignoring the fact he looked like he would rather be in Alcatraz than having this conversation.

“Nope,” he bit out.

“Field of Dreams?” she continued, unhindered by his attitude.

He shook his head. I personally thought he was lying. He just didn’t want to hand in his badass card by admitting he watched such a tear jerker. Then again, maybe his hobbies didn’t turn to watching movies. It was more likely he learned how to waterboard for fun, or practiced menacing looks in the mirror. He had that shit down pat.

“You’ve missed out on some cinematic gold. You should come over and watch it one night—you know, as a thank you. Mom and I always have movie nights on Saturdays. Well, actually we don’t need a designated movie night, we use any excuse. But Saturdays are when we go all out,” she rambled slightly with a smile.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. My sweet, slightly antisocial daughter was inviting a biker over for a movie night? Not just that. One that was hotter than any man I had seen in real life or in movies.

“Lexie, what were we talking about just the other day? You know what happens when a little man underneath a bed gets hungry,” I said under my breath.

Bull’s eyes flicked to me and something passed in them I couldn’t catch. It was probably the fact he thought I was insane. I wasn’t exactly at my best. The attraction I felt for this man was consuming. This made it all the more mortifying witnessing the hardening of his eyes as they met mine.

“I think we deduced that man doesn’t exist, Mom,” Lexie said firmly. “Plus, Bull’s not a stranger. He’s our neighbor, who did something nice which saved our necks,” she finished triumphantly, winking at him. Actually winking at the guy who would chew up and spit out Chuck Norris.

I was at a loss of what to do, so I quickly glanced at my watch. “Frickin’, flippin’, shoot,” I blurted when I realized the time. “We are actually insanely late now. My chances of Shelly’s coffee are seriously low. Your acai bowl is out of the question, unless they pour it into a cup with a straw, which of course turns it back into a regular smoothie,” I teased. “You’re going to have to run into the café while I sit in the car with the motor running,” I declared, my attention on my daughter. My eyes returned to Bull, who had been glowering at me the entire time. I swallowed the terrible taste that came with this look. “Thank you so much for doing that. You really did come to our rescue,” I said sincerely, despite the look.

He stared at me a moment longer. “You need to get a new tire on there soon. Treads shot to shit. It’s not safe,” he clipped.