Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(15)

“I’m Cade,” he spoke roughly, but his expression was welcoming, which seemed to juxtapose the entire environment we were in.

The blond one jumped in. “And I’m Brock, pleased to meet you both.” He gave Zane a playful grin. “You seem to already know Zane.” He emphasized the name for some reason and Zane stiffened.

“Yeah, Zane totally saved our skin the other day when we got a flat. Mom can’t change one,” Lexie said happily.

My mouth dropped open. She did not just tell a bevy of hot guys I was unable to change a tire. They would think I was a fumbling idiot. And certainly not a strong, independent, single woman who did not need a man.

“I can change one,” I said to her tightly.

She kept her smile. “Uh no, Mom, hence your suggestion on calling AAA when we saw it,” she informed me and the group at large. The little witch.

I narrowed my eyes. “I had yet to consume an ounce of caffeine that morning, doll,” I said with a tight smile. “I barely had control over fine motor skills, let alone change a tire. I’m sure if the occasion arose again and I was properly caffeinated I could change a tire, no problem.”

Lexie gave me a look. “I’m so sure,” she said smartly.

“Mullet photo,” I threatened out of the corner of my mouth before turning back to the group, who were all regarding us in varying states of amusement. Apart from Zane, of course. I doubt meeting Will Ferrell in person would make this dude crack a smile. “So I’m just going to circle back to the good news portion of this announcement,” I said, directing my attention at Lucky, deciding to ignore Zane altogether. “You mentioned that we could still manage to catch our movie, despite the dire diagnosis of Betty,” I said.

“Betty?” Brock chimed in with a grin before Lucky could answer.

Didn’t these guys have mechanic type jobs to do? Or could they spread their manly hotness somewhere else?

“Betty’s our car,” Lexie decided to answer for me. The mullet warning obviously didn’t guarantee silence.

Brock’s face turned blank. “You named your car?” he asked in an even tone that suggested he was trying to disguise laughter. I failed to be embarrassed.

“I didn’t name her, Lexie did,” I explained. “She was ten and decided that a car such as this required a name.”

“I didn’t technically name her,” Lexie disagreed, leaning against Betty. “I merely broached the concept of the naming of the car. You were the one who christened her Betty.” she glanced at me.

“Only because all of the names you came up with were utterly ridiculous and didn’t suit the car’s personality,” I shot back.

Brock failed to hide his choked laugh. “A car has personality?” he repeated disbelievingly.

I thrust my hand out towards her. “This particular car does. Some obviously do not. Like a Toyota Corolla or a Volvo, any make. A cherry red VW Beetle on the other hand...” I trailed off, my car really speaking for itself.

I ignored the teeniest twinge of embarrassment that was blossoming inside me at discussing the naming process of our car with four (and a half) sexy, bad ass bikers. “Okay we’re getting way off topic, again.” I glared at my daughter. “The previews are lost to us at this rate, so we need to get back on track.”

Cade shook his head. “I’m guessing there’s no such thing as staying on track in a conversation with you two,” he declared, his deep voice sending tingles down my spine. The wedding ring on his hulking hand made me immensely jealous of a faceless woman.

The rest of the men smiled—apart from Zane, obviously —and thankfully Lucky continued on.

“We’ve got a loaner car that we give customers that need transportation when their cars are getting fixed. Problem is, we have to gas her up first,” he said and my thoughts dampened at the time this would take. Lucky must have seen this on my face because he gave me a panty-melting grin.

“The bright side is, I’m done for the day and I’d be happy to give you a ride and accompany you to the movie, unlike my brother here.” He jerked his head at Zane, who stiffened, “I thoroughly enjoy any cinematic experience.”

I failed to garner any sense of irritation at the fact this guy was essentially inviting himself to the movies with Lexie and I. This may be because he was kindly offering us a ride. It also may be because he was fixing Betty and giving us something to drive in the meantime. But it was most probably because he was hot. Now, I held no illusions; there was no way I was going to turn cougar, but I was still a red-blooded woman. Still, it wasn’t exactly setting a good example for my daughter to accept rides and movie invitations from random—no matter how friendly—hot, biker strangers. I seem to remember one of my main—there were only a few—rules being: don’t get into cars with strangers. Unoriginal yet relevant.

“Thanks....” I opened my mouth but I didn’t know how I was going to politely decline when I was interrupted.

“I’m taking them,” a tight voice declared, the anger in the tone cutting through the easy atmosphere.

All eyes, including mine, cut to Zane who was no longer glaring at me—yippee! — but at Lucky.

“I don’t mind....” Lucky started but Zane cut him off yet again.

“I’m taking them,” he said slowly, with a hint of warning in his voice.