“Hey,” he called out as he leaned across the seat to look down at her.
She looked back up.
“I’ll wait around, just to be sure.”
She grinned and nodded. “If I don’t come back, thanks for the ride, Joe.”
He watched her walk away. No, not walk, strut. And it didn’t take more than a second before the eyes of every one of those bikers were turned in her direction.
As his truck idled, he watched her breeze right past them with her chin held high and head inside. A few minutes later, she re-immerged from the building. With her hips swaying, she bee-lined straight for the curb where the bikes were parked in a line. Even from a distance, Joe could see her smiling up at one of the men, flirting with him. Damn, but that girl had moxie.
A couple of minutes later, the bikers were all climbing on their Harleys. As they fired them up, Joe could hear the engines roaring to life.
He watched as the girl climbed on the back of one of the bikes, and then she raised her arm, waving to him as they rode off, and he noticed every one of the bikers eyeing him as they all pulled out in a line.
As he put his truck in gear, Joe worried that maybe he should have driven the extra twenty miles out of his way to take her all the way to Sturgis himself. But it was too late. All he could do now was hope the little gal knew what she was doing throwing in with that bunch.
CHAPTER TWO
Present Day
Sturgis, South Dakota
August
Five bikes slowed on the rain soaked pavement, and then backed into spots in front of the tattoo shop, their back tires to the curb.
Three bottom rockers read Alabama. Two of them read California.
Ghost dropped his kickstand and threw his leg over the bike, turning to look up at the place. He pulled his daylight KDs off and wiped the water from his face.
Brothers Ink
Word was it was the best place in town. Just a temporary store, like so many others that popped up in Sturgis seemingly overnight this time every August.
This one was different. Four brothers owned it, and one of them, a man named Jameson O’Rourke was gaining recognition in the tattoo world. He’d been on the cover of Inked Up Magazine, and rumor had it they were in talks about a TV show.
The MC came through the door, ignoring the clearly posted sign that read, NO MC COLORS, their broad, leather-covered shoulders filling the small shop. They were dripping wet, rivulets of water running off them to puddle on the floor.
Ghost saw his two California Chapter brothers, Crash and Wolf smile at a girl standing by the window.
Wolf even winked at her.
“Got a customer for you, Superstar,” Shades announced, pushing JJ forward. They were here to get JJ his club tattoo. Club bylaws stated you had to be a member for two years and be accompanied by two patched members that already had their ink.
Jameson looked from Shades to the girl, who obviously worked for him. And it was almost as if he was questioning whether she wanted him to get rid of these men. Not that that would be an easy task, but apparently the man thought he was up for it. Ghost huffed out a breath. If he was going to take on five members of the Evil Dead MC, he was either fucking stupid, or he had balls the size of the Hulk.
Shades was starting to narrow his eyes at the man, not liking his hesitation one bit.
“There a problem?” he asked with a growl.
The girl cut in, breaking the tension. “No, not at all. I’ll get the paperwork.” She moved toward the counter. “Please, gentlemen, this way.”
Shades eyed Jameson, and then turned toward the counter, shoving the younger member ahead of him.
As the girl shuffled through the papers at her station, searching for a consent form, it was apparent that their VP was making her nervous as hell. That is, until Crash leaned his elbows on the counter and grinned down at her.
“How’s it going, Crystal?”