“You’re forgetting they had guns and clearly intended to shoot Axle in the back.” Evie still couldn’t believe Jagger, one of her two best childhood friends, had become an outlaw biker. What had happened to the boy who had been so proud to join the army, and fight for what was right? And why the hell wasn’t he dead? Not that she wanted him to be dead, but she’d heard from old friends in Stanton that shrapnel from an RPG had lodged in his heart while he was on tour in Afghanistan and he died in a hospital in London. Why did no one know he was still alive?
“At least Axle had time to give you Vipe’s message. Your new boyfriend doesn’t seem the type who would cope well with being stood up, although if that was an issue he should think about joining the twenty-first century and buying a phone.” Connie tied her store apron around her narrow waist. She was pixie pretty, slim and petite with blond hair cropped short in the back and long in the front and wide bluish-gray eyes, she could have passed for a teenager if not for her loud, slightly obnoxious, firecracker personality.
“His name is Viper, not Vipe.”
“Well, he’s not a relaxed, chilled out kinda guy,” Connie continued. “I thought he’d found out Bill was skimming off the weapons shipments he’s been running through the store and Axle was here to make sure it didn’t happen again. Permanent like.”
Evie flipped through the post, checking for sale flyers. Her custom paint business was doing so well, Bill had given her carte blanche to order new supplies. “Three dates doesn’t make Viper my boyfriend. And they were very chaste dates considering he’s the president of a biker gang. We went to a couple of bars, watched a game, went out for dinner, had a few goodnight-at-the-door kisses. I haven’t even had a chance to find out if he’s a badass in bed.”
“Ah yes.” Connie snorted a laugh. “The gentleman bad boy biker. I believe that’s called a contradiction in terms.”
“More like the biker who realized the dull civilian single mom wasn’t cut out for the excitement of biker life.” Evie had figured he wasn’t interested in her after their last date when he dropped her at home without even the usual goodnight kiss. Served her right for trying to spice up her love life with a badass biker. She knew better, but her wild streak had reared its head when Bill introduced them. Although Viper was much older than her, there was something about him—a confidence, an aura of power he projected the moment he walked into the shop, or maybe it was the darkness she sensed inside him—that reminded her of Zane. And even though she’d gotten over Zane and moved on with her life—as much as a person could do with a broken heart—she thought about him over the years, especially since she saw his face in miniature every day.
“Three dates plus how many times did he come here to the shop?” Connie didn’t wait for Evie’s answer. “First to do that deal with Bill. And then for detail work. Both legit. But after you painted his fender, why all the visits? Touch-ups on a perfect paint job? Discussions about his tank? A burning need to buy a pair of summer gloves? He came back for you. And Axle coming here to set up a third date proves it.”
Connie poked her in the ribs and Evie wiggled away. She hated being tickled. Her mother had always tried to tickle her when she was drunk, forgetting, in her alcohol-fueled delusions, that Evie wasn’t a child anymore. She’d never really had the chance to be a child. Her mother had been totally incapable of looking after herself, much less Evie, once she hit the bottle. With her father always out on patrol, Evie had taken on the role of cook, housekeeper, and 911-caller when her mother passed out or fell down the stairs. She had only ever felt free, truly free, during her stolen moments with Zane.
“I don’t know if I should go out with him again,” Evie said. “I have a nice, comfortable, normal life. I work. I chauffeur Ty and his friends to school and activities. Occasionally, I let you drag me out to a club or send me on a blind date where I meet comfortable, normal guys.”
“Ah…” Connie raised an eyebrow. “What about Roy the Rock Star? He wasn’t normal. Fucking you behind the drum kit during a rehearsal is hot, but not normal. Or what about Don the Dom? Kinky sex clubs don’t really rate on the normal scale. Sometimes you let your inner wild child out. Nothing wrong with that. Only problem was, Vipe didn’t give it to you the way you thought he would. He acted normal. Big disappointment. Give the guy another chance. He’s all kinda badness. He’s probably afraid he’ll scare you off.”
Maybe Connie was right. She couldn’t deny the delicious thrill of being wanted by someone who radiated such power. It was the same kind of feeling that had drawn her to Zane, dark and brooding, two grades above her in school, with a reputation that kept even the teachers away.