“You show her your baby gherkin, Sparky?” Dutch grumped from the doorway. “That why she’s howlin’ with laughter?”
Dutch still occasionally called him Sparky at the garage as if it would bother Whip. It didn’t. He’d learned to ignore it since Dutch was always trying to get a rise out of all of them. All it did was make him a target in return.
It had become a sport. He fucked with them. They fucked with him.
Just like the whole Pornhub thing on his phone. He wouldn’t be surprised if the site was still bookmarked to the “she-males” category. Maybe Dutch was into that since he loved a damn variety. If they could suck and fuck, that was all that mattered to the old man. He was living his best life and not giving a shit what anyone thought, including his sons.
The most important things to the old man were his business, fucking and now his granddaughter Dyna. Everyone knew deep down he loved his sons, but the Original would never admit it out loud.
“Get that sled off the lift, get her an estimate on the repair and get workin’ on the cage you’re supposed to be workin’ on. That Ford needs to be done before the end of the day. You got that?”
“Yeah, got it,” Whip answered even though Dutch had already moved on. He shook his head and glanced at Fallon, who was now quiet and staring at the empty doorway.
“Is he always like that?”
“Every damn day. All right, let me get Reilly to call around for the parts and see what the timeframe’s gonna be. Gotta move your Scout from the lift before the boss man has a coronary ‘cause I put your sled in front of a customer already on the schedule.”
“I appreciate you doing that,” she said softly.
Whip stared at her mouth and thought about all the ways she could show him her appreciation.
Because he had more than two brain cells, he kept that list to himself, pushed off the counter and grabbed his coffee mug. He tipped his head toward the door. “Once we figure out how long the parts are gonna take, we… you can go from there.”
He turned to head out of the break room when she stopped him with a hand planted on his chest. “I just want to thank you for the laugh, even if you didn’t mean what you said to be funny. I needed that reminder we shouldn’t take life too seriously.”
They were inches apart. Inches.
Whip was having a difficult time dragging his eyes from her mouth to the rest of her face.
At least he wasn’t staring at her fucking tits. While in the office, she had shed her waterproof windbreaker and he got a good look at them. Her tits being hugged by the short-sleeved cream-colored sweater she wore beneath it didn’t hurt, either. Also, with the way her nipples pushed against the thin fabric and how it emphasized her cleavage, her tits were worth a look.
A few looks.
Whip noticed he hadn’t been the only one looking.
The sweater not only fit her well, so did the hardly broken-in jeans hugging her hips and thighs. That snug denim also made her ass look very edible.
Smack-able.
Fuckable.
How he ever mistook that she was a man in the first place…
It just proved he hadn’t been paying attention as much as he should’ve been. Especially near Hillbilly Hill. And that could’ve been dangerous.
But right now, Fallon had all his attention.
He didn’t give one shit that she was older than him. She was still hot as fuck.
Like Dutch, Whip appreciated women in all colors, shapes, sizes and ages. As long as they weren’t jailbait or one of his brother’s ol’ ladies, then he was open to anything and everything.
Billie was proof of that. Especially since she was the exact opposite of Fallon.
Night and day.
Dark and light.
He pulled a slow, deep breath into his lungs as they locked gazes.
If she was stuck in town for a few days waiting on parts, maybe they could get to know each other a little better. He assumed she didn’t know anyone in town since it seemed she might’ve been simply passing through.
Whip wouldn’t want her to be lonely. He’d be willing to volunteer to help with that. Yeah, that wouldn’t be a sacrifice at all.
Since it was already Thursday, he had no plans for the rest of the week except to show up tomorrow for work and then take part in the club run on Sunday. Other than that he was free.
Available.
Willing to please.
Fuck yeah.
Her clearing her throat yanked him from his fantasy and back to reality. A flush rose from her chest and up her neck but didn’t quite reach her cheeks.
Her nipples were pebbled and his fingers itched to brush over them. His mouth actually watered and not because she was squeezing the shit out of that donut.