Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(16)

“They seemed to know you.”

I shrug. “Maybe.” It’s more likely they recognized my colors and didn’t want to start anything they had no hope of winning.

Her gaze roves over me. “They looked terrified, actually.”

I slide my arm along the back of her chair and my fingers play over her shoulder. “No one hits on my girl.”

Sure, there’s nothing serious between us. She’ll be gone tomorrow. But today she belongs to me and I’ll break bones to prove it if I have to.

“Hmm. I thought you weren’t a Neanderthal.”

“Guess you thought wrong.” I grin, because while I’ve been called a lot of things by pissed off chicks, Neanderthal isn’t one of them. Then again, Grace isn’t angry with me, either.

Burt brings our order over. “On the house,” he says, sliding my money back at me.

Grace stirs her coffee but she keeps giving me sideways glances. Finally she takes a deep breath and puts her spoon down. “What’s the Viking Bastards?”

I abandon her shoulder and slide my fingers through her hair. “My MC.” Does she even know what that means? “Motorcycle Club.”

“Is that what I walked into last night?”

I laugh. She really doesn’t have a clue. “No. Odin’s is just a bar where we hang out sometimes.” There’s no need to tell her anything else, but for some reason I want to. “My granddad on my mom’s side owned the bar and was a member of the Bastards. We’ve got history.”

My granddad was a legend and, like my old man’s dad, was one of the original members of the California charter. It’s why we still patronize the bar—that and the fact my brother Gage now owns it.

“Oh.” Grace nods as though that all makes perfect sense, but I can see she’s still as confused as ever. It’s rare that a girl I’m with has so little idea of how things are, but that’s cool. In fact, I like it, although f*cked if I know why. “And that back room. Is it always empty for, uh, illicit hookups?”

I twist her hair around my fist and tug her closer. “Illicit?” I don’t bother hiding my mocking tone. Only Grace would call it that. “No, it was closed because it’d just been repainted. About f*cking time—that wall was disgusting.”

She stares at me with those beautiful blue eyes of hers and then her lips twitch. “Serendipity.”

It’s not the word I’d use, but it works. Last night is the only time I can remember that room’s not been in use. “Something like that.”

“So, uh, your business.” She fiddles with her spoon and avoids my eyes. “It was nice of you to offer to fix my car, but I totally understand if you can’t. It probably needs to go to a specialist dealer or something.”

It does, and if I was in a regular business there’s no way I could help her. But while the majority of my work is legit, there’s still a small stream of jobs that come through the chop shop side. Mostly it’s to help out my brothers, but Grace is a special case, and the computer I need is already on its way.

“I can sort it, no problem.” My tone is final and anyone else would accept that. She doesn’t, though. I can tell by the way she looks at me, before she even opens her mouth.

“I don’t want you to do anything illegal on my behalf.”

Funny how that didn’t occur to her last night, but I know it’s because then she had no idea I was a member of the Viking Bastards. Obviously she now thinks everything I do is against the law.

I guess compared to her pampered existence, she’s not far wrong.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.” I kiss her to let her know the discussion is over, and by the time I pull back I can’t even remember what the hell we were discussing.

…

Grace

Just before we leave, Zach goes over to the counter to talk to the owner, and as if on cue, my cell buzzes. It’s Russell, and I nearly ignore it, but I guess he’ll just keep calling unless I speak to him. I want him to accept it’s finished between us, before my week’s vacation is over and we face each other at work. Ugh, I’m not looking forward to that.

“Grace?” There’s an urgent note in his voice. “Haven’t you gotten my messages?”

I have, and I should feel guilty for not having returned his calls, but somehow I just don’t. “Yes, but there’s not really anything to say, is there?”

“Of course there is. You can’t throw our life away just because of a silly disagreement.”

It was more than a silly disagreement about our domestic arrangements. It was the final nail in the coffin as far as I was concerned, and his complete disregard for my opinions annoys me all over again. “I’m sorry you don’t feel the same way, but I’m not prepared to discuss this anymore.”

He ignores my comment, and I press my lips together as he proceeds to discuss everything we’ve already talked about, ad nauseam, without getting anywhere. When I see Zach pushing away from the counter, I cut Russell off mid-flow.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” I shove my cell back in my purse with a silent sigh of relief as Zach strolls toward me.

He slings his arm around my shoulders as we make our way back to his place, and there’s nothing subtle about it. It’s possessive and macho and everything I’ve never wanted in the past, but with Zach it just seems so right. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination or not, but everyone we pass seems to give us a wide berth.