Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(14)
“Uh,” she glanced over at the heaping plate of food Rock carefully balanced in front of him. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” Becky sauntered away, completely oblivious to the butterflies she’d awakened in Vanessa’s belly. The ones that took to frantically beating against her rib cage as Rock strolled in her direction while digging in the front pocket of his Levi’s for his cell phone.
“Before we go out, I need to call the guys on the perimeter and make sure there aren’t any unfriendlies skulkin’ about the place,” he told her absently, his deep, sexy voice making her shiver.
Or maybe it was just the cool evening breeze causing her skin to erupt in goose bumps. She certainly hoped it was the breeze because, crud, she wasn’t that far gone, was she?
When he gave her a strange look, she realized she hadn’t responded to his last statement and was, instead, gaping at him in slack-jawed fascination, mere seconds away from breaking into song.
Ack! Someone just shoot me now!
Of course, since some wiseguy out of Las Vegas had put a price on the head of each and every Black Knight, she knew getting shot was an actual possibility. Which was why most of the Knights were stationed in the buildings around the perimeter of the BKI’s compound, keeping a close eye on their operation.
“Oh, uh, good idea,” she murmured and screwed her eyes closed when she realized how impossibly lame that sounded.
Rock didn’t seem to notice—thank goodness—because he was already pushing some numbers on his phone and listening to it ring on the other end.
Pull yourself together, Cordero. He’s just another operator like all the other operators you’ve worked with your entire life.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t true. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he was somehow…different…
To distract herself as Rock exchanged a few terse words with whichever Knight he’d called, she turned back to the group gathering around the table.
Michelle was in the process of taking a seat when she glanced at her son’s sticky hands and quickly changed her mind.
“No way you’re coming to the table with those hands, mister,” she said.
Little Franklin groaned like having to go inside to wash was tantamount to Chinese torture, and it was impossible to miss the smoldering look in Snake’s eyes as he followed Michelle’s progress into the shop.
Boss obviously didn’t miss it, because he punched Snake in the shoulder and grumbled, “Stop staring at my kid sister like she’s five-foot-ten-inches of grade-A giggidy.”
“Ow!” Snake howled, making a face as he rubbed his abused shoulder. Then he grinned, lifting his hands in a shrug.
“You’re ruining my dinner,” Boss rumbled.
“Like that’s even possible,” Becky snorted, and Vanessa could only shake her head. She was still having a bit of trouble consolidating the image of the world’s most dangerous men with those of the guys she’d come to know at BKI, the ones who threw impromptu barbeques and razzed one another without mercy. Sometimes, the place felt less like a top-secret spy shop and more like a rowdy fraternity.
“Perimeter’s clear. We’re good to go,” Rock drawled, reminding her that for next couple of minutes she’d be completely alone with him.
Oh dear. The butterflies in her stomach started crawling up into her throat.
“Hey, Rock!” Becky called before they could make it through the shop’s back door.
“Yeah, chère?”
“While you’re out there, would you do a sweep of Snake’s bike to make sure it’s free of bugs or any other nasty devices?” The Knights never allowed unsecured vehicles onto their premises. In their line of work, it paid to be vigilant. “I’m dying to get a closer look at that paint job. The snakeskin on the tank looks almost three-dimensional.”
“That would be thanks to this amazing tattoo artist out of LA,” Snake said as he dug in his front pocket and tossed Rock a set of keys.
Even balancing the mammoth plate of steak, salad, and potatoes, Rock caught the keys easily.
“You finally restored that ol’ Honda?” Boss asked, and the conversation dissolved into flywheels, pistons, and cylinders, of which Vanessa knew absolutely nothing.
Amazingly, however, since joining the Knights, her interest in the subject matter had skyrocketed, because, seriously, what she wouldn’t give to have her very own custom-designed Black Knights motorcycle.
She’d never really considered herself the type of woman to go in for the whole MC lifestyle. But the first time she’d seen all the Knights mount up and head for the open road, she knew she wanted a piece of that action.
“Lead the way,” Rock’s drawl interrupted her thoughts, and she turned toward the shop’s back door.
She’d only gone a few feet when she glanced over her shoulder. Something about having him behind her gave her the definite sensation of being…stalked. Of course, that particular feeling made a lot of sense when she caught him staring at her butt the way a hungry lion stares at a wounded impala.
Okay, so maybe he was aware she was alive.
Gulp. She wasn’t sure if that knowledge made her giddy as a school girl or simply scared the crap out of her. But from somewhere deep inside her, some place she never knew existed, a little horned—or maybe horny was the best way to describe her—demon sprung up and said, “You see something you like, cowboy?”