He watched her assess his response with a skeptical expression. Did she sense the honesty in his confession? Seconds passed like minutes, minutes like hours. Months of pent-up sexual energy sparked between them. He slid his hand beneath her hair, drawing her closer. She was looking at him like she wanted to dissolve into him. Finally. He leaned in for the kiss, and just as quickly as their passion built, coolness descended over her face, lowering the sweet curve of her lips as she leaned back, putting space between them.
She turned her body toward the table, and lowered her feet to the floor, sitting up straighter and leaving him to wonder what the hell had just happened. He’d been this close to taking the kiss he’d been craving for months.
“Crystal…?”
The shrill ringtone for the Dark Knights Motorcycle Club he and his brothers were members of, and his father headed up, broke through his confusion, and he whipped his phone out of his pocket. His heart thundered—from their almost kiss or the club alert, he couldn’t be sure.
He answered the call, listening to his oldest brother, Bullet, relaying the information about Trevor “Scooter” Mackelby, a seven-year-old boy whose mother had caught the attention of one of the club members when she’d posted on Facebook about her son being bullied. The Dark Knights had “adopted” him into their club and had sworn to protect him. There had been an incident at school, and now Scooter was afraid to go to sleep. Tonight the club members would rally around Scooter’s house, staying until morning, to ensure he felt safe.
“I need to drop Crystal at her car and grab my bike,” he said to Bullet. “I’ll meet you there.”
He stepped from the booth and threw cash on the table, wishing he could delve into their almost kiss, but there was no time. “I’m sorry, sugar, but duty calls. I’ve got to take off.”
Confusion clouded her eyes. “Duty?”
“Club business.” They hurried out to the truck, and he explained about Scooter on the way back to Truman’s to get her car. His great-grandfather had formed the Dark Knights, and his father, who went by the road name Biggs, for his six-five height, was the president. Bear and his brothers had been brought up to respect the brotherhood and honor its creed.
“‘Love, loyalty, and respect for all’ runs as thick as blood through our veins. A blessing and a curse.” He went on to explain how they’d connected with Scooter and gave her examples of when they’d helped in similar situations in neighboring towns.
“So, if a kid or an adult is bullied—”
“Or abused,” he corrected her.
“Or abused, you guys all sit outside his house until he feels safe?”
“Essentially, but not always. It depends on the situation. Schools, teachers, even the police, can’t do much when it comes to bullies. The victims are left feeling weak and vulnerable. We empower them to tell and to know they have support. By getting involved and showing up in force—outside their house, for example, or around their block, or escorting them to school or work—the person who is hurting them realizes the victim is not alone and vulnerable. We’re there to protect them.”
“But what if they’re abused and not bullied, by an adult?”
Bear ground his teeth together to ward off the anger the question incited. “We’re there for those cases, too. And when they go to court, we escort them. The whole club, on our bikes, in front of and behind their parents’ cars. And we line up in court to show our support.”
“Intimidating the abuser?”
“That’s a nice side effect, but our goal is to empower the victim and make them feel safe.”
He pulled up in front of Tru’s house and climbed from the truck, coming around to open Crystal’s door and help her out. “Think of it this way. If they call a social worker at ten o’clock at night, they’re not going to get an answer. Once they’re ‘adopted’ by our club, they’re a member for life, and we stand by them no matter what time of day or night. It all started a few years ago, when my father met a family who had lost their son to suicide after he’d been bullied. They were from Florida, but it opened his eyes. He brought the mission up to the members, and now it’s part of who we are.”
She dug in her bag for her keys. “That’s impressive. I’m surprised there haven’t been articles about you guys.” Finally finding her keys, she unlocked her car door.
“We don’t want press. It’s all about helping the victims.” He stepped closer, and she backed up, giving him a clear signal that whatever had scared her off in Woody’s was still hanging around.
“I had a nice time tonight,” he said. “Thanks for letting me dip my fry in your shake.”
She smiled and shook her head, her eyes sliding to the ground. She looked adorably sexy. Another glimpse into that softer side of his tough girl.
With a finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face so she had to meet his gaze. “That goes for you, too. If you don’t feel safe at any time, any hour, you know you can call me.”
She looked at him for a long moment, as if she was struggling to decide if she should make a smart-ass remark, or go with the heat between them. It seemed to be the look du jour.
A smile crept across her face, and she climbed into her car. “And feed into that big head of yours? I don’t need protecting, but I’m glad you’re helping that little boy.”
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. He’d snuck kisses like this a few times, but it always felt like the first time. His lips lingered on her warm skin, soaking in her feminine scent. “You haven’t seen my big head yet, sugar. But I’m pretty sure you’ll like it even more than the one you’ve been staring at all night. Drive safely.”
She closed the door and rolled down the window. “Why do you keep texting me your name?”
He felt himself grinning. “I may have been out of sight, but I’ll make damn sure I’m not off your mind. ’Night, sugar. Drop me a text to let me know you got home okay, and lock your doors.”
She rolled her eyes. “I will if I want to.”
“Oh, you do.” He blew her a kiss, listening to the sound of her locks clicking into place and wondering how long it would be before his phone vibrated with a text.
Chapter Two
CRYSTAL SPREAD THE designs she’d been working on out over the table at the boutique Thursday afternoon and stepped back, giving Gemma room to assess them. A few weeks ago Gemma had mentioned wanting to expand the boutique, and they’d discussed several options, including creating and selling their own costumes. Crystal had gone to college for business and fashion design, and she’d tinkered with designing her own clothes ever since. She had transformed her dining room into a quasi design studio when she’d first moved in and had been dabbling in making her own clothes ever since. Recently she’d begun playing around with a few new costume ideas. They purchased costumes in bulk from large suppliers, which allowed them to keep a nice variety in stock.