Luckily, there were no groans of protest, only a couple of “dopes” and lazy grins. They started to pack up their gear with a speed I didn’t know was possible from teenage boys.
I was slightly surprised to see Clay had moved close to my side.
“Thanks for letting them play. You’ve pretty much made my daughter’s life,” I said with a grin.
He regarded me. “You can thank me by letting me take you to dinner,” he said with his grey eyes dancing.
He wasn’t bad-looking. One would even call him hot. He was slightly taller than me in my heels, and although he wasn’t as built as some of the bikers I knew, the muscles bulging out of his black dress shirt were nothing to sneeze at. Nor was his broad chest. Or his face, which was chiseled, although his nose was slightly crooked. His eyes were light and kind, and he was a bit older; I’d say early forties, if the slight bit of salt in his jet black hair was anything to go by. He wore his age well. Really well.
I chewed my lip. “I’m not sure I should go on a date with the only man in a hundred-mile radius allowing my daughter’s band to play in his club,” I replied. “I mean, it could be a conflict of interest, and who knows if I was only saying yes in order to grease you up to let them play again.” I continued watching the kids pack up.
I felt his heat as he stepped in front of me, obscuring my vision. “Darlin,’ I couldn’t give two shits about your motivations in going out with me. As long as you do.” He gave me a smoldering look. “And trust me, once we got to the dessert portion of the evening, you’d forget all about the ulterior motives,” he said softly. Somehow he managed to utter that statement without sounding like a complete sleazeball.
I swallowed. And despite myself, I felt a sizzle of attraction between us.
“Plus,” he added, glancing over his shoulder. “I’d let them come back, despite your answer—they’re talented kids. Your daughter especially. I’ve seen a lot of bands come in and out of here. I know when they’ve got something.” His eyes sparkled. “I’ve got a friend who’s in the record business. I could get him to come and see them play sometime,” he offered.
I raised my eyebrow suspiciously. “Is this just a ploy to get me to go out with you? Are you bribing me with the future of my daughter’s music career?” I said with mock disgust.
To my surprise, he laughed. It was throaty and easy and great to listen to. It was nice to actually see an attractive man laugh with ease. I had spent weeks trying to make a particular man crack a smile, but nothing. A small part of me wanted to say yes to someone who laughed easy, smiled easy, who easily expressed interest in me.
“Babe, promise you, regardless of whether you go out with me or not, the offer’s still on the table,” he told me, still smiling.
“She’s not fuckin’ going anywhere with you,” a voice growled from behind me. Right behind me. I knew without even having to turn who the owner of that voice was. I could feel his hard torso brushing my back. Any other time I would like to have been in a hot guy sandwich. But not under the watchful eyes of five teenagers.
He was fucked off he even cared. He even felt the rage swirling in his belly at the prospect of Lexie playing in a club, a fuckin’ club. In Hope, no less. Shit swirling with the Lost Knights meant Hope was not a safe place for anyone connected to the Sons. And without even fucking realizing it, he had connected not only Mia, but Lexie to the club. Had he not learned his fucking lesson? Putting someone innocent, someone who deserved a fuck of a lot better, in the line of fire once more? Apparently not. Because if his life depended on it, he couldn’t cut them out of his world. It would have been easier to slice off a limb. His nights with Mia were what he lived for. Spent the whole fuckin’ day actually looking forward to getting inside her tight little body, hearing her throaty voice moan his name. Joke, on the rare times they exchanged words.
Then there was Lexie. Didn’t see the kid often, but he saw her. She had wandered over to his garage, couple of times after school when her mom wasn’t home. She’d chat ‘bout stupid shit, sometimes just watch him. She didn’t press about the guitar shit, seemed to sense he needed time. The fuckin’ sixteen-year-old seemed to understand. Bull found himself looking forward to those visits too. When Lexie would bathe his dim garage in sunshine. When her mom would do the same in his pitch black bedroom. To his pitch black soul. Bull knew what this meant. It meant shit. Big shit.
So that was why he had almost lost his shit when Mia had declared she was letting Lexie play at the club. He had almost taken her over his shoulder when she argued with him. Yanked herself out of his grasp and walked out without a backward glance. Cade had faced a similar argument with his wife. One he had also lost. Which meant Bull was not the only fucker pissed off to be standing in a bar in the middle of enemy territory watching a teenage band play at a club. He was ramped up to furious when Mia had emerged from backstage looking like a fuckin’ sex kitten. Her hair was pulled off her face, tendrils hanging down. She wore a skintight black dress with a low neck, showing off her amazing tits. It went down to past her knees, but hugged every inch of her tight body. The fact she wasn’t showing a ton of leg made her even sexier. As did the high knee-length boots that encased her legs.