“And three.” He closed his fist. “You look like the kind of gal who wants to see the world, have adventures.” He lowered his voice. “Ride into the sunset on a Harley with a guy who really knows how to show a woman a good time.”
“And that’s you, is it? Sunset guy?” She laughed.
“If you want it to be.” He drained his beer.
Fuck. Now a damn image of her nestled behind him, her cheek on his soft leather cut and her legs astride a throbbing engine had blasted into her brain. And next to it was an image of her father, red-cheeked, eyes popping, the way he always looked when furious. His new wife, stick-thin, mouth like a cat’s ass would be at his side waggling her finger and her cutting opinions slicing through the air.
“No, I don’t want it to be,” Leah said, also draining her drink.
“But you do want more wine.” He gestured to the bartender. “Same again, all three.”
“We were just going,” Leah said.
“No, you weren’t.”
“We were. Move please.”
Carter stayed put. “Stay, I have something I want to discuss with you. It will be of interest.”
“What could you possibly have that would be of interest to me?”
“Stay and you’ll find out. I was gonna tell that judge, but he wasn’t interested.”
In the name of the sweet Lord, he was infuriating. And now three more drinks had arrived. Not only that, she was trapped in the booth by his big body. His big sexy body.
She snatched her drink and took a mouthful, hoping it would take some of the heat from her cheeks.
“So, tell us, Carter,” Willow said, settling back. “What is of interest to us?”
How wasn’t Willow as affected by Carter as she was? She appeared at ease, as though she couldn’t care less that he’d hijacked their after-work drink and gossip.
“Next year,” he said, “there’s talk of Mexican chapters coming up for the rally.”
“What?” Leah straightened. “It’s already too full, too many bikers and fights and…”
“I agree,” Carter said. “And with the Mexican’s here … fuck … they’ve got lots of enemies, they don’t play nice, and there’ll be even more shit for Judge Lincoln to sort out.”
“Jesus on a bike,” Willow said. “That will be a shitstorm. What can we do?”
“Well.” Carter folded his arms, his knuckles making his inked biceps bulge.
Leah tore her attention from them. The guy was packing so much muscle she’d bet he had muscles in places other men hadn’t even heard of. She’d wager good money on the fact his abdomen was at least a six-pack, likely eight or even ten, and his butt, if a dime didn’t bounce right off it, she’d—
Stop it, Leah.She scolded herself and told the devil on her shoulder to take a damn hike.
“There are things you can do. That your town can do,” Carter said, “but if I hadn’t told you about it, then you’d be in the dark.” He tapped the side of his head. “Knowledge is everything, but of course you understand information and power, having gone to Harvard and all that.” He was directing the conversation at Leah. It was as though Willow wasn’t even there anymore.
“And what do you suggest we do?” Leah asked.
“Tell the mayor and sheriff for starters, Mexican border control too. Have cordons around the town, ten miles back at least, and then get extra cops in.” He chuckled. “Aren’t you glad you stayed for this drink now?”
“But why … why are you telling us this?” Leah was confused.
“Because believe it or not, despite what you see when you look at me, Ms. White, I’m actually one of the good guys.”
“Is that so?”
He took her hand. His was big and warm, and she had no idea why she let him do it. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at her with those ocean eyes of his, or the slight tilt of his mouth, not a smile but a quirk, as though she intrigued him, as if he were fascinated by her.