Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(50)

Amy shook her red hair then pointed to the bar. “We have almost exceeded our curfews also and we each have a badass biker who may or may not drag us out of here over their shoulders, depending on how much we want to stay.” She gave me a mischievous grin. “I’m totally for the over the shoulder exit myself.”

I followed her eyes and jolted slightly to see the prospects had been joined by more leather-clad hunks. Cade was leaning against the bar with his arms crossed, his hard stare directed at Gwen who grinned and gave him a finger wave. Brock was much the same, although he had a beer in his hand and his posture was slightly less tense. He shook his head and smiled when Amy blew him a kiss.

My eyes landed on Zane, who was not looking relaxed and was definitely not grinning. His eyes were locked on me and were blank. He had his arms crossed and I couldn’t be sure from this distance, but I thought a muscle in his jaw ticked. I resisted the urge to poke my tongue out at him. I felt such an act may be slightly juvenile, since I was a mother and thirty-three years old.

Before my inner child got the best of me I said my goodbyes to the women, who all made me promise to get Lexie’s autograph on a bar napkin and to have a cocktail night again soon. As I pushed through the crowd, I could still feel a stare at my back. I did my best to ignore it.





“Mom!” Lexie shouted as soon as I made it to the little room backstage.

She hopped up off the sofa she and the boys were lounging on and bounded over to me.

I hugged her and barely held her for a second before she pulled out of my arms with excitement.

“That was awesome!” she declared loudly. “We totally rocked this place.”

“Hell yeah, we did,” Wyatt interjected from the sofa, where he was lounging casually, looking every inch the rock star wearing all black and almost as much silver as Lexie. How a teenage boy could pull that off I had no idea, but Wyatt did.

“I think I carried your asses. It’ll definitely be me on the cover of Rolling Stone—I’m the best looking,” Sam said with a joking grin.

Lexie poked her tongue out at him. She could totally pull it off, being a teenager and cute and all.

Noah sat quietly with his bottle of water and grinned at his bandmates. Although he was the most reserved off the stage, I think I liked him the most.

“You guys were certainly the best band I’ve ever seen live,” I told them, deciding to omit the fact they were the only band I’d seen live.

“Thanks, Mrs. S,” Sam said, beaming. “We totally appreciate you bringing us here and not getting all parental about the venue and the time. We just gotta rock—you know, no rules,” he said sincerely.

On that note, Clay, the owner opened the door and gave me a look. “Babe,” he muttered quietly.

“Okay, guys, the only reason I’m not getting all ‘parental’ is because we’re blowing this joint in t minus two on the account of the fact your delicate teenage sensibilities are yet to be corrupted by what’s in this bar, and I’m afraid long term exposure could mean danger for your music career and Clay’s reputation. Get your stuff,” I told the group.

Luckily, there were no groans of protest, only a couple of “dopes” and lazy grins. They started to pack up their gear with a speed I didn’t know was possible from teenage boys.

I was slightly surprised to see Clay had moved close to my side.

“Thanks for letting them play. You’ve pretty much made my daughter’s life,” I said with a grin.

He regarded me. “You can thank me by letting me take you to dinner,” he said with his grey eyes dancing.

He wasn’t bad-looking. One would even call him hot. He was slightly taller than me in my heels, and although he wasn’t as built as some of the bikers I knew, the muscles bulging out of his black dress shirt were nothing to sneeze at. Nor was his broad chest. Or his face, which was chiseled, although his nose was slightly crooked. His eyes were light and kind, and he was a bit older; I’d say early forties, if the slight bit of salt in his jet black hair was anything to go by. He wore his age well. Really well.

I chewed my lip. “I’m not sure I should go on a date with the only man in a hundred-mile radius allowing my daughter’s band to play in his club,” I replied. “I mean, it could be a conflict of interest, and who knows if I was only saying yes in order to grease you up to let them play again.” I continued watching the kids pack up.

I felt his heat as he stepped in front of me, obscuring my vision. “Darlin,’ I couldn’t give two shits about your motivations in going out with me. As long as you do.” He gave me a smoldering look. “And trust me, once we got to the dessert portion of the evening, you’d forget all about the ulterior motives,” he said softly. Somehow he managed to utter that statement without sounding like a complete sleazeball.

I swallowed. And despite myself, I felt a sizzle of attraction between us.

“Plus,” he added, glancing over his shoulder. “I’d let them come back, despite your answer—they’re talented kids. Your daughter especially. I’ve seen a lot of bands come in and out of here. I know when they’ve got something.” His eyes sparkled. “I’ve got a friend who’s in the record business. I could get him to come and see them play sometime,” he offered.

I raised my eyebrow suspiciously. “Is this just a ploy to get me to go out with you? Are you bribing me with the future of my daughter’s music career?” I said with mock disgust.