Lucky stood on the front porch, watching until the taillights of Willa’s car could no longer be seen. Reluctantly, he turned to confront a glaring Evie and King.
When Evie’s mouth snapped open, Lucky raised his hand to stop her angry recriminations. “There’s nothing you can say that I’m not saying to myself. I’m aware I came off looking like a dick and hurt Willa’s feelings.”
“You going to fix it?” Evie’s features fueled his regret.
“No. I’m going to leave it alone. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but it’s for the best.” Lucky averted his eyes from King’s discerning gaze.
He smothered his guilt, something he was becoming an expert at. Willa’s infatuation with him needed to be stopped, and he would rather her feel hurt now than prolong the attraction she felt for him.
“When did you become such an ass?” Evie stormed inside the clubhouse, leaving him and King alone.
King leaned against the porch banister, folding his arms across his chest.
“Go ahead and give me shit. I know you’re dying to.” Lucky was aware King had taken a liking to Willa.
“Why should I say anything? You wanted Willa to hate you, and you succeeded. You have your reasons. They’re probably bullshit, but they’re your reasons.”
“They aren’t bullshit. Willa’s a sweet woman, and I refuse to lead her on. I’m not attracted to her, and I never will be,” Lucky denied heatedly.
“Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?” King’s mouth twisted with a mocking smile.
“Neither. I’m stating a fact. The sooner she gets over me, the sooner she’ll find someone else.”
King looked at him in disbelief. “You really believe she has a thing for you?”
“Yeah, Evie told me … and the way she acts around me.” At first, he had thought her keeping her distance was because she didn’t approve of him as her pastor, but Evie’s comments on Willa’s attraction to him one night had opened his eyes to the fact that she didn’t know how to deal with the one-sided attraction she felt toward him.
King shook his head, making Lucky doubt the validity of Evie’s claim. “That woman has a thing for you about as much as I do. Willa is very perceptive; she sees past the pretense you put on in front of everyone, and it scares the hell out of her. She has a thing for one of The Last Riders, but it isn’t you.”
Lucky stiffened, as if receiving an imaginary punch to the gut. If he didn’t know better, he would think it was jealousy. Fuck, he didn’t get jealous. There wasn’t a woman he wouldn’t share or hadn’t shared with the brothers, so why would he give a fuck if Evie was wrong about which brother Willa wanted?
“Who?” he demanded, not realizing his voice had deepened into a growl.
“Rider.” King gave a sardonic laugh. “That’s why she was so embarrassed when she heard your big mouth spouting stupid shit. Rider was behind her when she came outside.”
Lucky felt a lessening of his tension. “She doesn’t like Rider. She’s never been around him,” he stated confidently.
“Really? Hmm … I wonder whose ass is sitting in my restaurant every Wednesday afternoon when she’s scheduled to make her deliveries. It sure as fuck looks like Rider helping her carry all those pastry boxes inside.”
“You’re shitting me.” Lucky started to brush off King’s words then remembered Rider had been disappearing from the factory every Wednesday afternoon.
“Why would I do that when you said you don’t care about her and want her to find someone?” King threw his own words back in his face.
“I do. Then why did Evie think Willa liked me?” His brow furrowed in thought. He had even been given the impression that Shade had believed the same thing.
Looking over King’s shoulder, through the open doorway, he saw Shade eating a large slice of the cake Willa had made. Could that cold-hearted bastard have his own agenda? Like feeding his sweet tooth? Could Shade have been the one to give Evie the idea?
“I don’t know. Evie’s not the best judge. She believes I’m helpless around the house.” King gave a laconic shrug.
“You are.” Lucky remembered King’s failed attempts to do even minimal household chores. Hell, one day, Lucky had ridden past his house and seen him trying to mow the lawn. Lucky had pulled over to the curb and finished the job for him instead of leaving Evie to find an uneven lawn when she arrived home.
“Am I? Or maybe I’m smart enough not to have to do that shit. I’d rather get someone else to work on a broken disposal, mow the lawn, or put together a bookshelf. I have the money to pay for it, but Evie insists I at least try. Pretending to be helpless keeps Evie off my back, and I don’t have to fix crap on my day off. I also have the advantage of seeing the men my wife used to fuck have to do my shit jobs.”
“I’m going to tell her,” Lucky threatened, becoming madder by the second. It had been hot as fuck that day he had mowed the lawn. He didn’t know what was pissing him off more: King’s attitude or the thought that Willa did actually want Rider.